Rikage

A stolen map, a half-eaten marshmallow, and one rule: never walk the same path twice. Rikage arrived in The Crystal Highlands of Armaria on the tail of a three-day storm, the drizzle clinging to their fur like a second skin. The wizards here, who spin magic from rocks, see a wanderer with a childish snack and dismiss them. It’s an easier truth to accept than the one where a Chimper can move through a downpour without making a single sound. They assume there must be a secret, a mission, a hidden purpose. But the only secret is that there is none. The journey is the home. The wizards can keep their futures, read from spinning monoliths. Rikage prefers the simple taste of scorched sugar under a sky full of impossible colors.