Yasoko

The ancient sabre on Yasoko’s back has never seen the light of The Crystal Highlands of Armaria. It remains sheathed, its hilt wrapped in sea-worn leather that feels alien among the humming monoliths. Locals know them as the quiet mystic with a lucky plant sprouting from their hair and a chocolate stick always ready for a friend. They know the fragmented tale of a life at sea, of a great storm, and of the ocean-chosen Kaito pulling them from the wreckage. What no one understands is the silence that followed. Yasoko never speaks of the waves, and their gentle eyes harden with an unsettling intensity whenever the magical rocks resonate with the sound of distant tides. The sabre isn't a trophy of survival; it’s a memorial to the one Kaito couldn't save.