Shiemi

The faint scent of ozone and polished crystal always clung to Shiemi’s haori, a smell they could never quite wash out. It was their sibling Tazuse’s by right—or it would have been, had Tazuse not traded the family's warrior path for quieter pursuits among the autumn trees. Shiemi, the one who always talked their way out of sparring, was left with the heirloom and the duties that came with it. These days, they wear it with a rogue's charm, navigating the fortress cities of The Crystal Highlands of Armaria with a smile. But when the monoliths hum at sunset, Shiemi runs a hand over the worn silk. The fabric is a constant, tangible reminder of the person they protect the family name for, and the person they're still pretending to be.