Getsujou

The fishing rod was once green bamboo, cut from a grove beside a clear-running stream. In a life before this one, Getsujou would spend entire days with it, their line dancing on the current, pulling silver-scaled fish from the depths. Then came the final battle in The Dragon Wastelands. The rod was all they had when the sky tore open, held like a spear against a tide of magic and steel—a foolish, brave gesture before being swept away. When Getsujou awoke, their heart was silent. They found the splintered remains of their rod and spent a year binding the pieces together. These days, they cast their line into murky, illusion-haunted pools. There are no fish here, only the constant rain and the patient, rhythmic motion of a life they can remember but never reclaim.