Ougyo

Ougyo’s majestic quiver holds only a single arrow. It was not always so. They once carried a full thirty, each fletched with the feather of a sea-eagle from their coastal home. They used twenty-nine in the surge of power that transformed them, a vortex of energy so immense it was said to rival the will of Kami. The final arrow, however, they kept. These days, they walk the high-altitude streets where freezing winds whip cherry blossom petals past bamboo stalks, a stark contrast to the salt spray of their past. The quiver is not a weapon anymore; it is a promise. It reminds them of the ocean they left and the power they now hold in check. To draw that last arrow would be to unmake a mountain, and Ougyo has no desire to see the sea again.