Ichizaemon

"Watch the light, but don't get too close," the locals warn their children during festivals among the amber-leaved trees. "It remembers everything it touches." They speak of Ichizaemon and the lanterns swaying on their back. Once, those flames were tools of creation, carried alongside Mokuzai as they shaped the wilder parts of the forest, their glow pushing back the primal dark. But the lanterns did more than illuminate; they absorbed. One evening, deep in an unmapped grove, they captured a fleeting shadow, an ancient secret that should have remained unseen. Now, Ichizaemon is no longer an explorer but a warden. They walk the known paths with squinting, suspicious eyes, guarding the memory trapped within the glass.