Chouyoshi

The freezing wind that whipped through the bamboo-lined streets never seemed to touch Chouyoshi. These days, they are known for the warmth of their illusions—glowing green dragons that chase laughing children down alleys and phantom cherry blossoms that bloom in defiance of the biting air. But the gold of their kitsune mask once gleamed with a colder light. In another life, they wove mirages of terror and despair for coin, their charming words a weapon to lower a target’s guard. The mask was a shield not from others, but from their own empathy. That life ended when an illusion meant to frighten a merchant's rival broke a family instead. The look of genuine loss in a child's eyes was a reality their magic couldn't warp. They fled, but kept the mask; a constant, gilded reminder of the harm shadows can do.