Mishika

The deep, unending rumble of falling water is a sound Mishika can summon even in the driest desert. They learned the art of unbreaking defense at the pale stone temple in Waterfall City, a discipline shared with the disciples of Kaunto-juba. The lessons were of stillness, of becoming a fortress against a hostile world. But Mishika's hands preferred shaping pebbles into skipping stones over raising walls of granite. Their spirit was not a fortress; it was a river. They departed without a word, leaving only a half-eaten choc stick on the training grounds as their farewell. Yet even now, miles and years away, they sometimes find a single, perfectly smooth river stone waiting for them on their path. A gift, or a summons?