Kinosuke

The older wizards remember the feel of the sun on Kinosuke’s face, before the Kamen mask became their only sky. They were a nurturer in The Crystal Highlands of Armaria, someone who could coax light from dormant monoliths with a gentle hum. Their kindness was a reliable force, like the setting of the suns over the fortress. But kindness is a vulnerability here. When an unstable spell fractured, threatening a group of young apprentices, Kinosuke absorbed the blast. It didn't scar their skin; it curdled their soul, twisting their eyes into something demonic. The mask was a mercy, crafted to contain the chaotic energy now bound to them. Now, others only see a silent wanderer followed by a persistent drizzle, a walking ghost story they tell to warn against misplaced compassion.