Ninari

Ninari was born with a rage that was not their own, a turbulent inheritance from the bloodline of Zenchi. In The Crystal Highlands of Armaria, they tried to reason it away, drowning themself in ancient texts on curses and blood-lust. But knowledge only gave the feeling a name; it did not quiet the destructive whispers. One evening, as a violent urge crested, they fled their rock-fortress study and found a still, star-reflecting pool. They fashioned a crude fishing rod from a fallen branch and enchanted thread. For hours, they just sat, watching the line. The patience it demanded, the intense focus on something so external, starved the inner fire. It was the first true peace they had ever known. The fishing rod is their sword now, and the stillness is their victory.