Sazamefuki

Sazamefuki ducked under the whistling arc of a steel staff, their own carved cane coming up to block a follow-up jab. The crystal monoliths of The Crystal Highlands of Armaria threw back fractured images of the daily ritual. Every sunset, their rival tested them; every sunset, Sazamefuki had to prove they were worthy of guarding Hogo-sha’s shrine. A tremor ran through their hands, the familiar buzz of anxiety. Their rival was stronger, faster, born to this duty. Sazamefuki was just a wanderer who’d found a reason to stop. But their rival didn't have the Eyes. The lenses flickered to life, painting the world in lines of probability and highlighting a single weak point. They lunged, not with strength, but with perfect timing. A sharp crack echoed as the staff clattered on the crystalline ground. Neither had won. They never did. They just made each other sharp enough for tomorrow.