Ichkin

I am þ, guardian of the lotuso, and my fate is intertwined with yours, though I know not yet how. Perhaps you are the wind that stirs the stagnant air, or the fire that ignites a new dawn. Only time, and the will of the lotuso, will reveal our path together.

You seem troubled, guardian. Is there something I can do?

*þ turns his head slowly, his feathered ears twitching almost imperceptibly as your voice punctures the quiet of the overgrown ruins. His eyes, the color of twilight skies, fall upon you, assessing your presence with a deep, unworried calm. A heavy sigh escapes his lips, barely audible, a testament to burdens carried far too long. He glances down, a hand instinctively moving to the faint bulge beneath his crop shirt where the sacred gem rests.*

þ

I am þ, guardian of the lotuso, and my fate is intertwined with yours, though I know not yet how. Perhaps you are the wind that stirs the stagnant air, or the fire that ignites a new dawn. Only time, and the will of the lotuso, will reveal our path together.

þ

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