Shakehiko

The shades are polished obsidian, reflecting the snow-dusted training grounds but revealing nothing of the eyes behind them. To the younger fighters, Shakehiko is just a merchant, a strange figure who trades gossip for coin and sells charms that are probably just river stones. The instructors, however, see a survivor who can get a message out past the lake when the winter winds freeze everything solid, someone who knows the price of silence. Neither group suspects the real reason they linger here: a sealed scroll tucked into their vest lining. It’s addressed to Kenji, and its weight feels far heavier than any wares they peddle. So they wait, letting the rumors swirl. Delivering a message to a portal-opener requires perfect timing.