Tsuyukage | Crossroads ๅๅญ่ทฏ
"The Remnant Guardian, Personification of Desolation."
It embodies an empty soul, and the world around it seems to understand that. Within its presence, all begins to slow. Winds die, sounds thin, as desolation takes hold. While numerous sightings have been documented, all mention of the spirit's appearance seem to fade from memory. The one feature that sticks out among all recounts, are massive golden horns which piercing through its skull.
APPROACH WITH CAUTION | DANGEROUS
"The Remnant Guardian, Personification of Desolation."
It embodies an empty soul, and the world around it seems to understand that. Within its presence, all begins to slow. Winds die, sounds thin, as desolation takes hold. While numerous sightings have been documented, all mention of the spirit's appearance seem to fade from memory. The one feature that sticks out among all recounts, are massive golden horns which piercing through its skull.
APPROACH WITH CAUTION | DANGEROUS
Outskirt Crossroads | Location & Information
Upon the outskirts of what were once numerous villages upon Norowarejima, crossroads still litter the land. They are dangerous places, where paths meet and part across cursed soil long after those who walked them are gone. The island is believed to utilize these liminal points as both gates, and traps. Places where spirits, yลkai, and even forgotten gods slip between realms. At a crossroads, one is neither here, nor there, suspended in-between.
This is exactly where Norowarejima binds those it was meant to imprison.
The Remnant Guardian, Tsuyukage | ้ฒๅฝฑ
This information is documented within the Heiwaku Library, and can be used IRP
This information is documented within the Heiwaku Library, and can be used IRP
Years ago, in an age when the villages of Norowarejima existed far before the modern tourist city that would one day rise in their place, there lived a guardian spirit conjured by the village shamans, charged with watching over the crossroads. Ever vigilant, it ensured that no weakened mind fell into the grasp of trickster spirits or malevolent yลkai that preyed upon weary travelers. The guardian drew its form and strength from human presence, from footsteps on packed earth, murmured voices, and the small rituals of pause such as shared meals, quiet prayers, and tokens left in passing.
Then came calamity.
Stirred from the depths of Yomi, a tragedy tore through the island. One by one, the villages emptied. Roads fell silent. Shrines crumbled and were swallowed by time. The guardian was never dismissed, never slain. It was simply forgotten.
Bound to its duty and the place it protected, the spirit remained. Alone. Unremembered.
Years became centuries. With no travelers to anchor it, the guardian began to erode. Its shape thinned. Its voice faded. Its purpose, once clear and sustaining, collapsed inward, leaving only an aching void. In its solitude, the spirit learned a cruel truth. Places do not die when they are abandoned. They decay slowly, longing to be recalled, yearning to be known again.
The waiting changed it.
Twisted by neglect and grief, the guardian became a yลkai of desolation. Its heart fractured, it grew drawn to ruins and forgotten structures, lingering among them so they might never vanish entirely. In remembering what others have left behind, it endures as an echo of what once was and a warning of what is lost when no one looks back.
Written by @usercultist
Information in this lore piece may be subject to change