“You must never do evil.”
That may have been the most terrifying thing a fifteen year old boy had heard in his life. A travelling bard passed through the South Vren, mysterious smile on his face as he turned towards the people that flocked in the square, enjoying the warm autumn afternoon. You must never do evil. He had never really thought about evil, or what it meant and implied, but the moment the words left the bard’s lips, it seemed to have been the only thing he could think of.
Do no evil – that was quite the generic prophecy, and that was exactly the reason why it terrified Xue Ying so much. What is evil? Insincerity, manipulation, even playful mischief – can it all be considered evil and malevolent? But, it wasn’t just that. Free will is a wicked thing, and he realised he will have to force himself to be extra careful around people – what if someone tricks him into doing something that is not immediately perceived as evil ( but is evil in its core ); what if he is deceived? Those are all the questions that have been weighing on him for a decade, the ethical questions of what can be perceived as evil, what is innately considered as evil, and if a person’s kind nature can be twisted and deceived into doing evil. The first penalty for an act of evilness that he might commit will be blindness, and since evil must never be given a second chance to take root, if done the second time the result will be a most painful death.
Xue Ying’s one and only desire is to keep his younger siblings safe – that is it. They are the only family he has and he would be damned first that to let any harm befall them – and that includes his geass. When it comes to the war between humans and fairies, Ying tend to keep an open mind, but he’s aligned with Avalon because it seems like the just and honourable thing to do, since fairies are continuously suffering; they’re being enslaved, poorly and unjustly treated and it just… rubs him the wrong way. However, while he is still good and kind, he will also not hesitate to pull out of Avalon’s side if it proved to endanger his siblings in any way – if he was blind, he could still protect them, but if they were harmed or dead, then he wouldn’t have anything to live for anyway
What I would like to see explored is his morality – especially since he is continuously paranoid that he’ll do something that’s considered evil, and that always brings about a string of “what IS evil?” questions and polemics and internal struggles. His desire to keep his family safe is honourable and good, but if he had to make an impossible choice to keep them safe at someone else’s expense ( an entire specie’s expense, more accurately ) which one of the evils would he choose to commit – sacrifice his family or go against the oppressed, go against everything his entire being is telling him to fight for – justice and honour.
Serenity – the island had been the very definition of an idyllic scenery; the blacks of the volcanic rock mixing with the darkest, richest greens of the plants and trees that grew in abundance, nurtured by the destruction and chaos that had erupted long ago, making the island the most prosperous and fertile place in, many would argue, the world. It had been a wonderful place to live in, to thrive and grow much like the plants that nurtured the Vren’s inhabitants – and Xue Ying was no exception. Serenity and happiness surrounded the young boy from the moment he was born, the eldest of three children, but oddly enough, the least responsible – even the youngest of Ying’s siblings had been more ecstatic about helping out in the fields, or running to the docks to help with loading in the cargo, despite being nine years younger than Xue Ying. Born from a union of South Vren’s most respectable merchant and the most successful farmer, the boy had been raised to be carefree and optimistic, kind and with a perpetual smile plastered on his face – and with the profound kind of childish naiveté lacing through his temperament.
But, nothing lasts forever. No innocence is left uncorrupted, no innocence is left intact and the young, soft, carefree boy was soon to learn that every kind heart and every soft smile came at a price – whether that price was in blood or in tears, he would learn it, too. And he would learn what it means to be plagued by things that were not his doing, nor his fault – nor related to him by any means, but those of blood and family. It started with a travelling bard, when he was fifteen – his life up until that point had been filled with nothing but laughter and joy, playing with his younger siblings and taking on their childish mischief as his own, to spare them from their parents’ kind-hearted ( but rather stern ) scolding. He may have been mischievous himself, but when it came to his family, he was the protector. But, then that damned bard appeared, with his unnerving smile and even more unnerving words – words that threatened to choke him to death on the spot. His eyes found his younger siblings, playing by the fountain and he was quick to reach them, a frown setting between his brows – frown that will soon find its home on his face – as his fingers curled around his siblings’ smaller wrists, tugging them along to go home. Yet, despite having the reassurance of his younger siblings’ presence by his side, there was a creeping feeling of dread that he could not seem to shake. That dread followed him for days, keeping him restless and in a sort of feverish daze during the nights, his thoughts all the while attempting to get to the bottom of both his sudden paranoia and the words that the grinning prophet so elegantly and effortlessly spewed in his face. Evil. Evil. All his thoughts were concentrated on it and the shift from the carefree boy to something so… frantic had been instant – and terrifying in its own way. He thought that it could not get any worse – so long as he avoids doing evil deeds, so long as he steps up to become the very definition of kindness and obedience, then he will not fall and he will be out of danger to bring harm onto himself and, by proxy, his family as well. But, what Xue Ying forgot was that he was not the only person in the world and that the people he had grown familiar and friendly with had all had their agendas, their secrets – and that included his parents.
He really did no evil, nor pondered doing it, but that did not mean he would remain innocent and as happy as he could be given the geass. It came in the night, as such things always come – hidden and veiled with darkness; a wickedness that could leave a person breathless, soul hanging from the lips at the sheer terror of it. His siblings, one eight years old and the other six, were restless and so they tiptoed to his room and crawled in his bed, seeking protection from the monsters that hid in the darkness of their rooms. Of course, there were no monsters under their beds nor were there any razor sharp smiles in the darkness, but he still comforted them and protected them. The unease that had been following him for days returned with a vengeance in that moment – when the first scream echoed through the house. Xue Ying was out of the bed within a heartbeat, tossing a frantic look in his siblings’ direction, before kneeling down and telling them to barricade the doors and keep quiet, until either he or their parents come to get them – a triple knock and a brown owl’s hoot would be their code. Despite the fact that he had only ever fought a tree before, Ying picked up the sword his mother bought him during one of her travels to the continent and staled through the door, quietly closing them behind himself. Hearing the click of the lock as one of his siblings obeyed his instructions brought only a momentary sense of relief – torn immediately by another scream, a deeper scream. Whatever happened next was a blur – a blur of masked figured with blood-painted grins on the silver-and-obsidian masks. He remembers terror, and fear, and rage and instinct kicking in, a mix of emotions culminating with violence - and vengeance that followed swiftly. With bloodied hands the ripped off the masks one by one; rage magnified as familiar, trusted faces appeared in front of him – their eyes dead, but holding a hint of surprise in their final moments; a surprise that a naive, sweet boy would be able to fight back, would be able to answer wickedness with vengeance – and vengeance was never evil if it was just. In a daze he cleaned the room, and cleaned himself from the blood that now shattered his innocence and softness, sharp edges already creeping on his face, weighing down the corners of his mouth, extinguishing the bright embers that always seemed to ignite his eyes. It took him over an hour to bury his parents in the field and to hide the bodies of their murderers in a place his siblings would not get to glimpse at when he comes to get them – and take them away from the house that had now been bathed in blood. If setting everything up took an hour, then packing all of the valuable and useful things took another one. There have been tear stains on his siblings’ cheeks when they opened the door at his signal, and the very look on their faces drew another sharp edge on his face. Taking them away had been the most reasonable and rational thing to do – torching down their childhood home had been hard and it completely shattered his heart, but it had been a necessity, and as he set his siblings in front of himself on a horse, Xue Ying forced himself to remain composed and cold, if only for the sake of the only family he has left.
Their new home was not so bad – and he had realised that much of his parents’ boring lectures about trade and money had paid off, for in Oxdwell he had made a name of himself, continuing to protect and care for his siblings., while trading in protective spells and rare merchandise he had left from that place, the place he dreads to remember as home – that place had been nothing but a scorched, desolate and barren chunk of land, much like what his heart had turned into. Yet, despite the… calmer days he now has, Xue Ying had never forgotten the geass, and with war brewing on the horizon, he wondered if neutrality could be seen as evil. In truth, he was tired of blood, tired of murder – committing it once in a lifetime had been more than enough; the nightmares had plagued him for months, screams bubbling in the pit of his throat before his instincts would kick in to muffle it, to prevent his siblings from being spooked or traumatised, despite never experiencing – or learning – the truth behind their sudden move and why momma and papa were not coming with them. No, he did not want to have any part of it, but doing nothing in the face of such suffering and injustice was a great evil – and it was not solely the fear of his geass that pushed him to align with fairies, with Avalon. Those dangerous feeling he had felt when his parents were murdered resurfaced every time he would witness an injustice, and before he would do something rash he would have to force himself to think of his siblings – if he fails, they will be alone in the world, defenceless, innocent and naive, with no one to protect them – and that would have been the greatest evil he could ever commit.
