Ariasu

Ariasu was forged in the roaring crucible of combat alongside Hiro, but their greatest enemy now is a tangled fishing line. They remember the weight of a blade, the clang of steel, and the wild joy in Hiro’s eyes—a joy Ariasu never shared. After one final, brutal spar, they simply walked away, trading the battlefield for the endless roar of the great cascade. Now, they are the worst fishing trainee the lower docks have ever seen. They trip over nets and their knots are a joke. Yet, their strange habits work. They move so silently that fish swim right up to their boat, and they possess a patience honed by waiting in ambush, not for a bite. They keep to themself, the blush in their eyes a quiet plea not to be asked about the past. The other fishers see a clumsy apprentice, but the river frogs know the truth: no one watches the moving water with such stillness.