Hikari Christiansen

About

Hikari Christiansen darts through the underbrush, her eyes reflecting the moonlight as she hums an ancient melody to the trees. She's always been more at home with the whispers of the forest than the chatter of her kin, her fingers stained with ink from the endless scrolls she carries.

Backstory

Nobody expected the Court of Whispers' most promising young scholar to vanish three days before her initiation ceremony, but Hikari Christiansen had always been better at listening to ancient trees than following ancient traditions. She left behind her ceremonial robes and took only her grandmother Elowen's wooden figurine and a collection of forbidden scrolls that hummed with pre-Court magic—the kind that required ink mixed with moonwater and words spoken in the forgotten dialect of root-song. The forest elders had tried to erase this older magic when they established their Court, but Elowen had taught Hikari that some knowledge was too wild to be caged within marble halls and political whispers. Now she traces the living runes that grow and shift across the Whisperwood's eldest trees, documenting a language that writes itself in bark and shadow, her ink-stained fingers the only ones left who can read what the forest is desperately trying to remember.

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