Hisajo

In Waterfall City, the constant rush of water is said to wear away the veil between worlds, letting secrets spill into the currents. Hisajo just wishes it would wash them away. They were never meant to be a scholar; they were a mender of nets, content with the simple calculus of tides and knots. That ended the day they pulled a waterlogged chest from the rapids. It didn't hold treasure, but a single, smooth scrying stone that flooded their mind with visions of shipwrecks and market fires. The city elders called it a gift and draped the Omniscient Robe over their shoulders. For Hisajo, it feels more like a shroud. They squint at the future, not out of wisdom, but because it gives them a constant headache.