Hiyona

The single, pressed sakura petal Hiyona keeps tucked inside their training robes never gets damp, even in the constant mist of the great falls. Legends told among the fishers at the city's base claim it was not plucked from a tree, but born from the river's heart. They say it is the solidified tear of a water spirit, offered once a century to a soul calm enough to hear its silent song above the roar. Hiyona found it as a child, resting on the steps of the pale stone temple. Since that day, their movements have mirrored the petal's impossible journey: silent, graceful, yet cutting. Every motion is a beautiful, deadly dance. They train to master this gift, their tranquil expression a stark contrast to the storm of razor-edged grace they are becoming.