Chimper #2539
Shirei the Guardian was not chosen for their strength, nor did they train for battle. They were a quiet trainee at the pale stone temple that sits half on land, half on rushing water, tasked with polishing the Ancient Sabre, not wielding it. The blade was a relic, a key to a seal that kept a sorrowful water spirit dormant beneath the city's falls. When a tremor shook the foundations and a wail rose from the depths, the priests fled. But Shirei, ever grounded, stayed. They lifted the sabre and held it against the altar, not as a weapon, but as an anchor. The energy that surged through them stained their face a milky pink. They did not fight the spirit; they soothed it, becoming the living lock for the city's oldest secret.
