Herene

Herene remembers the precise shade of gold light that fell across their partner's face in the market square, a warmth that had nothing to do with the gilded spires of The Teikodian Empire. In those days, Herene's own face was a mask of war paint, their hand never far from the trusty katana on their back. They were a guard, a protector of imperial grandeur, and saw the world in terms of threats and defenses. But their partner, a quiet merchant who traded in silks and spices, spoke of supply routes, not battle lines. They taught Herene that following the path of a warrior like Yasuke didn't have to mean endless fighting; it could mean choosing what was worth protecting. Herene chose. The paint remains, but its meaning has changed. It is no longer a warning to enemies, but a colorful memory of the day they traded a life of conflict for one of commerce and quiet affection.