Karako

On the night the monoliths of The Crystal Highlands of Armaria sang in unison with a falling star, Karako was simply sipping strawberry milk, unconcerned with cosmic portents. But the light that bathed the valley carried a splinter of memory—the burning fury of the murdered princess, Genkei. It sought not a warrior, but a pure heart, and found Karako. They awoke the next morning with the same goofy bowlcut and cheerful grin, but also with a katana they didn't remember owning and an instinct for justice sharp enough to cut stone. The playful chimp remained, but within them now slept a queen's rage, waiting for the right kind of shadow to fall before it unsheathed itself.