Jiyunko

The carved cane Jiyunko carries is warmer than wood has any right to be. As a merchant, they use it to point at wares in sun-drenched plazas, their azure visor a quirky defense against the glare from the white marble architecture. But the cane is hollow. It was pressed into their hands by a dying imperial defector in a cold stone alley, far from the city's gilded grandeur. The secret it contains—a list of names—froze Jiyunko's expression into a permanent state of shock. Since that day, their calm demeanor is a fragile performance. They wander the capital's grand streets not to trade, but to listen, searching for the one person the list is meant for. The cane is both their burden and their only weapon.