Remifa

Remifa did not carry that Dragonslayer Blade for the river drakes. The fishers down in the sprawling huts of Waterfall City will tell you they are just a touched soul, pointing to the strange bait they wear as a hat. They say Remifa just watches the rushing currents, never casting a line, as if listening to a conversation no one else can hear. The city guards stationed near the plaza statue see it differently. They see the impossible lightness in Remifa’s stance and the way they adapt to any terrain, reminding them of unsettling tales about the mutant Hen'i-tai. But the priests at the temple on the water’s edge know the truth. They feel the heresy humming from Remifa’s possessed eyes and understand that the whispers come not from the falls, but from the deep, forgotten thing that answers them.