Genji Gozen was a young man, born to the Samurai class in the mountains of feudal Japan. He was a warrior, trained from early childhood to be ready to die for his daimyo.
Genji was competent as a fighter, but he struggled to focus on training, and would often be accused of disrespect to his regimen’s bushido (military code). The truth was, on some level, he was disrespectful to the code. He struggled to find honor in devoting his life to the daimyo.
Yearning to be recognized as unique and impressive, Genji would study the histories of Gods and Generals who built great nations. He would imagine himself in those positions of power and dream of the challenges he would overcome and the rewards he, his family and his people would reap. Genji was willing to do the hard work to be more than another nameless Samurai. Perhaps no one would understand at first, but eventually, all would be proud to know Genji Gozen and his story.
One day, after working in the field with his mother, father, and sister, Genji ventured into the forest. He often strolled amongst the trees, dreaming of faraway adventures before his night’s appointment, guarding the western ridge of the mountain community.
On this day, during his distraction, he wandered deeper into the woods than he ever had before.
Here, the treetops were so thick that the forest floor became pitch black. Only occasional sun rays cut through the leaves like columns supporting the sky. The rays reminded Genji that the rest of the world was not as dark as this place.
He Stumbled over something soft and felt the ground move beneath his feet. The crunch of limbs and shuffling of brush surrounded Genji. Something was alive in here and it was big.
A low and booming voice penetrated Genji’s insides, like that of an unexpected fall from a great height. “What do you seek,” the voice asked.
“What,” Genji snapped, “who’s there?”
“Only those who seek would find themselves in audience with me,” the voice vibrated.
Odd snaps and slithers creeped behind the black curtain all around Genji, obscuring his view of this place.
“I seek a map that leads to a life well lived, a life that will influence generations, Genji said, feeling clear in his convictions.
“Ah, Power, legacy and immortality; I know them well,” whispered the voice. “I know them because I am the incarnation of them. You will find no better map, than my example.”
“If that is true, why do you hide in darkness,” Genji asked, softly, matching the mysterious voice’s volume.
The voice let out a guttural and belittling laugh, “Because if you have never seen true and ageless power before, it will break your small mind.” “If you are unworthy, it will consume you and use your essence until nothing remains.”
Genji scoffed, “Don’t underestimate me, stranger. You have no idea what I am capable of.” “Whatever you have, I promise I can achieve it too.”
The cracks and slithers grew to a fever pitch. The tree canopy broke open and peeled back. Light flooded the space where Genji stood, revealing a lush and overgrown utopia.
Genji’s eyes were slow to adjust to the light, but when they did, he was confronted by the overwhelming reality of the voice in the darkness. Before him, was a giant living monstrosity, not completely plant, not completely animal. It was a writhing and sloshing mass of vines and thorns, more like fangs. If it was a singular creature, it appeared to have many heads. The oversized heads resembled that of wolves, as well as beaked predators unknown. Their eyes were alien and hollow and their mouths snarled, drooling all manner of sap onto tangled vines and razor-sharp edges.
“Behold true and limitless power,” said one of the larger deformed wolf heads. It contorted to break free from a tooth covered tumor, a rotted tree stump from another world.
