Chiasa

Every morning, Chiasa meticulously aligns their ninja mask, straightens their pink yukata, and balances the prized cake slice on their head. Their tutors believe it is a discipline exercise, honing focus for their noble duties within the grand, dark-stone fortress. They are half right. It is practice for navigating the corridors as the magical rocks spinning high above cast shifting shadows on the walls. The true mission: to reach the kitchens undetected and secure the first, perfect slice of morning honeycake. Their lineage is one of ancient, grounded tradition, but Chiasa found their true calling avoiding the squeaky floorboard by the armory. Their greatest foe is not a rival house, but the head baker, who guards the pantry with a wooden spoon. Today, victory smells like cinnamon and toasted almonds.