Ikayo

Ikayo did not come to The Teikodian Empire to pore over its gilded histories or marvel at its sun-bleached marble. They carry guiding lanterns but rarely read by their light, and their Sensei robes are always slightly askew. Courtiers dismiss them as an eccentric with a childish attachment to a marshmallow stick, perpetually toasted over a small brazier. This is a fatal miscalculation. Ikayo sees the rot beneath the gold, a clarity first honed when they saw past the chaotic energy surrounding Sakkaku to the warrior trapped within. That sight pierces more than magical illusion; it cuts through political lies. When the sun sets, the lanterns appear in shadowed alleyways, signaling a safe path for those the Empire wants forgotten. The focus in their eyes isn't for study; it's the look of someone counting souls in the dark.