Reyuna

The fishers down by the roaring base of Waterfall City say Reyuna arrived on the morning tide, clad in gold that shamed the sunrise. They don't speak of where they came from, but the armor whispers of a fallen dynasty, a destiny unraveled. Once, every polished plate was a promise of a throne, their future written in the stars they still see in their eyes. That future burned, leaving only the armor and the ache of what should have been. These days, they protect the lower districts, a silent guardian for those the city's grand defenses often overlook. Each morning, they trace new lines on their face with river clay and ash—not for war, but to obscure the sigils beneath. The reflection in the rushing water no longer shows a royal heir; it shows a protector, their own creation.