Kunitarou

The Teikodian Empire built its golden spires to own the sun, but they could never own the reflections dancing on the river below. From these shimmering lights, the stories say Kunitarou was born—part memory of the sky, part secret of the water. It is whispered they were once the Emperor's greatest flyer, a veteran of gilded altitudes who saw the truth of the city from above: a beautiful cage. Disgusted by the cold decay masked by blinding light, they fell from grace, trading imperial wings for a simple fishing rod and a mask to hide their famous eyes. These days, they are a trainee of a different art. They fish not for carp, but for hushed wishes and forgotten joys, casting a line into the heart of the capital and reeling in glimmers of hope the Emperor cannot tax or control.