Mitsuhiko

One inherited cloak, one unearned sword, and the perpetual taste of chocolate. Mitsuhiko arrived at the training grounds near the great lake with the gilded trappings of a hero but none of the calluses. The Grail Cloak was a family heirloom, heavy with deeds they had not done, and the adventure sword felt clumsy and foreign in their grip. They came from a world where lineage bought respect, but the cold air and the sharp clang of steel cared little for gold. For a season, they were the worst student, their only solace the sweet stick they chewed on the sidelines. Then they simply started staying late, practicing stances until their muscles burned. Their gentle nature hardened into intense focus. The cloak feels lighter these days. The choc stick is no longer a comfort for failure; it is a reward for a day's honest work.