Housen

Housen balanced on the slick stone railing, spinning their combat pole until it hummed in harmony with the roar of the great falls. The other chimps in the plaza below saw an outcast with possessed eyes, a heretic muttering to themself. They called Housen the 'Dragon Dreamer,' a name that wasn't a compliment. They didn't understand that the voices weren't in Housen's head; they were in the water, ancient and deep. Only Yotsuha never laughed. Their childhood friend would climb the treacherous steps with a choc stick, a quiet offering of support. Yotsuha didn't need to believe in the dragons to believe in Housen. But the 'dreams' were becoming clearer, turning from whispers to warnings. The pole wasn't for practice. It was for what was coming. And yesterday, for the first time, Yotsuha saw it too—a flicker of impossible color in the churning water just beyond the temple.