Tamehiko

They remembered the sound first: the roar of the great falls in Waterfall City completely silencing Sadasa’s panicked gasp. They were just trainees, sparring with dull blades when a river spirit surged from the temple pool, ancient and furious. Its watery tendrils slammed Sadasa against the slick stone, and all of Tamehiko's training vanished. Helpless, they watched a final torrent rush toward the one they loved. That was when they drew the Frost Katana, the heirloom they were never meant to touch. An impossible cold bloomed from their grip, a frost that belonged not to the blade, but to them. It flash-froze the spirit into a glittering statue before it shattered. In the sudden quiet, their own eyes burned with a new, vibrant light, and the only thing that mattered was Sadasa, watching them, breathless.