Kiwako

Kiwako once believed knowledge was a shield; they learned in the gilded capital's dungeons that it is, in fact, a blade. They were a teacher, once. Their days were spent in sun-drenched archives, explaining history to the children of nobles beneath blindingly bright spires. But one scroll, tucked away and forgotten, held a truth too sharp to be contained—a secret about the throne's foundation that marked them for erasure. The scar across their face wasn't earned in a dojo; it was a gift from an imperial assassin in a shadowed corridor. They never wanted this sword, but survival doesn't ask for preferences. Sometimes, they wonder about the rumor that Kanshi-in's great ship paused its cosmic journey to watch them flee. What did the warden see? Not a warrior. Just a scholar who read the wrong page.