Kinsaburou

In the Crystal Highlands of Armaria, they say a mage sees what could be, but a warrior sees what is. Kinsaburou adjusted the strange spectacles perched on their nose as a young rock wizard hurled shimmering shards of amethyst at them. The attack was a feint, a distraction for the true spell weaving the air into a cage of solid light. But through their lenses, Kinsaburou saw not the cage, but the gaps between the threads of power. They didn't draw their ancient sabre. Instead, they took a single, deliberate step sideways, placed a hand on the young wizard’s shoulder, and smiled. The cage collapsed into harmless dust. “A pretty trick,” they said, their voice warm. “But you must learn to see the world, not just the magic in it.”