Kinase

The roar of the great falls is the city’s heartbeat, but Kinase always listens for the little sounds: the chiming of their own guiding lanterns, the clatter of a dropped fishing net, the laughter rising from the plaza. They wear the mask and gear of a shadow operative, trained in arts of silence and misdirection. The uniform was meant to make them a whisper on the wind, a phantom on the great stone stairs connecting the lower and upper city. But their training failed to account for their eyes, which crinkle with such unconcealed delight that no one has ever been remotely intimidated by them. They are the most famous secret agent in the city, known by every frog merchant and child. Their attempts at espionage are legendary failures, usually ending with them accepting a snack or helping someone fix a leaky roof. The mask no longer hides an identity; it announces one.