Hello! So, I'm doing Azurrin Week for 2018. Hopefully this will give me the kick I need to finish off Darkhearts. I'm going to try to incorporate both prompts into the tales I tell, and none of them are related unless stated otherwise.

DAY 1: BLESSING/CURSE

People think that living forever would be a blessing.

The figure sighed as he made his way down the busy street. Gyges city, once a ruin populated only by the Faceless monstrosities and a Mad God, had been rebuilt a dozen times since. The time of marble and stone of the Wanderer's day was long since gone. A city of glass and steel had taken its place. Buildings that touched the clouds themselves dominated the skyline, whilst 'Horseless Carriages' clogged up the streets below, and huge 'Arrows with Wings' ruled the sky.

Cars He reminded himself. They call them cars and aeroplanes.

It had been Nohr that had created them both. He sighed again, ever since magic died centuries past, technology had taken its place. Nohr had adapted to the change better than Hoshido, who had almost completely collapsed to civil unrest. It had only been the twenty-times great grandson of Takumi that had managed to keep the nation together, although a number of smaller Daimyo's had declared and gained independence. It was only two centuries ago that Nohr had finally broke into pieces. Whilst the largest of these was still known as the Kingdom of Nohr, it was not the Nohr the Wanderer knew. The von Krakenburg line had long since died out.

Magic was gone, Pegasi and Wyverns had been hunted to extinction, as had the Kitsune and Wolfskins. Purged in the name of the Twin Dragons. The Vallite King that perpetrated it now held up in similar reverence as he himself was.
It disgusted him how twisted his Kingdom had allowed itself to become. What had been his reward for saving the world, the legacy he had built with his Beloved and their friends was now Valla in name only. A disgrace to his memory. A disgrace to everything he had fought for.

Once, about three years prior, he had visited a museum that was hosting an exhibition of him and his life, which had been...surreal, to say the least. Things that were not particularly significant had been given significance by virtue of being owned by him, or at least thought to have been owned by him. So much history had been forgotten, or twisted to serve some random Monarch's agenda. He was remembered as the King that ruled with a firm, sure hand for nigh on seventy years, supposedly unaging. Whilst most 'modern' scholars thought it was simply old nonsense, a way to show that he had been more than a mere King, but semi-divine. The scholars were unknowingly wrong, of course, but the Wanderer did not mind. Immortality was not something he had wished for, nor did he wish to inflict it upon others. He had abdicated in the end, after Azura's death. He was not, as 'history' now remembered, the bastard of King Garon and the sister of King Sumeragi. A bastard that had conquered several duchies and prefectures in the north of Nohr and Hoshido, and slew the 'Dragon King' of the small Kingdom of Valla, claiming the throne that way.

Azura. His beloved Queen, history had not been kind to her. Two thousand years since she had stood at his side when they slew Anankos, and Vallites now believed the only woman he had ever loved had been the evil High Priestess of Anankos and had been gloriously slain along with her master when Corrin had seized the throne. Lilith was remembered as his wife now, not his sister. His heart ached at the thought that Azura was now the monster that haunted the nightmares of small children, rather than the wonderfully kind woman she had been in life. He missed her, even now. Even after such a long period of time he had lost count of the years, it was still playful streaks of blue and gold that chased him in his dreams. It was still her voice, singing in her ears that kept him sane and the nightmares away.

It was her he missed the most.

He returned to wandering the world, trying to find a way to die, to join his friends and family and Beloved still awaited him.

As of yet, that way eluded him.

The Wanderer kept on his journey however. One day, he hoped, whether it be soon or not, he would find a way. However long it took.

People think that living forever would be a blessing. In Corrin's opinion, it was a curse. One he was unlikely to be freed from any time soon.