Tokiyoshi

Tokiyoshi remembers the way the setting sun would catch the spinning monoliths, fracturing light into a thousand colours against the walls of the midnight fortress. It was a beautiful lie. As a keeper of records within those dark stone walls, they stumbled upon texts describing not magic, but pacts. They saw what the wizards summoned when no one was looking, and for this knowledge, they were branded an outcast. Left to die in the jagged hills, they were found not by death, but by Mesuokami and their silent, wolven companions. Mesuokami saw not a pampered scholar, but a witness who knew their enemy’s true face. The bowler hat is tipped with perfect courtesy, but the thoughtful gaze is always fixed on the horizon, hunting the very things their former masters invited into the world.