Monei

The constant mist from the falls leaves a scent of wet stone and river fish on everything. Monei once found it comforting, a sign of home. They were a scholar then, their days spent in the pale stone temple, their greatest worry a smudge on an ancient scroll. The ninja mask was a foolish purchase, a playful bit of red to startle the merchants in the plaza. It was a game. But some knowledge refuses to stay on the page. They read a name they shouldn't have, a secret that brought shadows to the city's lower sprawl. The game ended the day they used their wings to shield a child from a blade meant for them. The mask isn't for hiding anymore. It’s a reminder of a debt, a promise made to the heart of Waterfall City itself.