Natsuto

Natsuto snapped another bamboo stalk in two, the sharp crack echoing in the thin mountain air of The Great Panda City. They used to create art for the Panda Council—delicate flutes and screens that captured the city’s serene beauty. They believed in the Council’s wisdom as they believed in the sturdiness of bamboo. That faith shattered the day the “dragon” appeared. The Council called it an omen, a blessing. But while harvesting on a high peak, Natsuto found a discarded magical amplifier and a scrap of enchanted silk, still warm. The divine beast was a grand illusion. Since then, their craft has changed. The dragon believer robes they wear are a bitter mockery, and their poker face is a shield. They still carve, but now they make listening devices and hollowed staves, each piece a silent question aimed at the city’s powerful.