Blind Rebirth (BL)

Blind Rebirth (BL)

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A boy forced to hide his emotions died. But he was reborn - blind. In his second life, he lived as fully as one can, but also died a miserable death. Third time he was born, faith taken away his sense of smell. He tried to live that life to its fullest extent, but ended up ripped apart. By his next reincarnation he started to get suspicious. He had lost his sense of taste completely, and died pitifully. In his fifth life, he could no longer speak. In the sixth, he'd lost his sense of touch. In seventh, he had gone deaf. He became like a doll. Aware of being alive, but being unable to move, hear, speak nor see. He didn't know how he died, but he was glad. Again he lived only to die. It was infuriating. A man who ended his first life, only to be reincarnated time and time again - at first gain hope, that later turned into a tool that crushed him - to once more lose the will to continue. What was it for? Why did it have to be him? Why?! But that wasn't the end. In his next life he could sense something. It wasn't anything that he felt before, but he could tell what it was. He saw auras, every person had one - him included. Some people could manipulate theirs... By the time he started to experiment with his own, he died. Next rebirth allowed him to take control over his energy. It allowed him to send his words directly to the minds of others. In the life that followed, he could move his body thanks to the energy. In that life he also gained a companion. Spirit animal, that melded with his soul and swore to fallow him to his next life. And there he was. A master in cultivation, with a soul stronger than others, with a faithful comrade by his side. In a body of a young master of a family that thought of him as a waste. What will he do? (pictures do not belong to me)
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Growing up in chaos isn't simple for all. Not many could cope. They would struggle and kick, but ultimately drown. However, for Dakota, that was his normality. Torturing. Maiming. Killing. That was his life, the life of a hunter. The Arizona line was elusive, written fame in the lore of hunters, and infamy for their prey. They were the best. No one could ever compare to their skills, their abilities, their ruthlessness. But Dakota was something else. His siblings might have learnt to enjoy the hunt, well most of them anyway, but Dakota didn't. There was always something missing for him, something he was waiting on. Silent and everlasting hope. A promise had been made to him, the day his twin brother was stolen, taken by the enemy, plucked right from the very home the Arizonas had grown up in. A promise of something better, something that he might actually want in his life. Now, almost sixteen years later, something was coming. A change was begging to be found. Maybe it would be for the best. Maybe Dakota would finally find that certain something that had been missing his whole life, something to fill the dark and fractured abyss that ached and wailed within. But nothing was ever that simple. Because, of course, the promise that had been made to Dakota would never be anything plausible for him, anything tangible to have and to hold. He had been promised a new life, by the greatest enemy of them all. It wouldn't be easy. Not with his family still clinging to his heels, the teachings of blood and violence burnt into his mind. No, leaving them behind wouldn't ever be easy. Then again, staying with them would only bring his inevitable death. Why not take the chance to die happy? After all, out of the ashes, a phoenix will rise...

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