Miriri

In The Heart of the Forest, rain is a historian, washing old stories from the amber leaves. For Miriri, it only ever tells one. The Elder Armour they wear wasn't made for them; the pauldrons are too wide, the steel cold against their skin. It was a legacy, meant to be earned on a final patrol with their mentor. But in the wilder green of the outer forest, they were ambushed. Miriri hesitated, a fatal second of fear, and their mentor paid the price. They returned with the armour, but not the one who was supposed to be wearing it. Now, every drop of rain that strikes the metal sounds like a broken promise. The armour keeps Miriri safe from harm, but it also keeps the memory of their failure perfectly preserved.