Profile
Long ago, a faithful follower (and sibling of sorts) of the great pelagic guardian whose domain extended across the oceans of every world in the Tianhai within which the First-Awoken swam. When the guardian was murdered, he fled, fearing for his life, and for a very long time he wandered the stars seeking a way to deal with the tremendous grief that he felt.
Few who meet him in the present era would suspect such a history from him. To those he appears to—usually warriors, wanderers, or adventurers from among the merfolk species—he seems preternaturally perceptive and always cheerful and optimistic. He finds a way to meet up with those who pique his interest, offering to journey alongside them and making himself useful as a friend and confidant. He stays until his companions have accomplished whatever quest they have set out on, and then disappears as suddenly as he appeared. He has done this many times over the centuries—often enough, in any case, that a heavily distorted interpretation of him has entered the folklore of several of the First-Awoken civilizations as a trickster figure of sorts, or one who brings good fortune.
In truth, he has taken on a cyclical form of existence in order to escape the grip of sorrow. When he awakens, he does so with his personality and skills intact, but only the faintest of memories, leaving him free to enjoy life and to take up the role he once served for the guardian with a new set of friends and allies. Yet as he journeys, meets new people, and embarks upon new adventures, eventually his past memories begin to resurface. Before they can fully emerge, he must bid his companions farewell and return to a state of deep, death-like hibernation, during which his body regenerates itself and his ancient memories once again fade into his subconscious mind.
To this day he has only the vaguest notion of the calamity whose remembering he is perpetually running from—only that it is better that he doesn't know. He does know that in past 'lives' he has made friends he no longer knows, accomplished things he no longer remembers. For this reason he is constantly, almost obsessively journaling, writing down detailed accounts of the life he lives so that he might pass down some knowledge of the happiness he once knew once the cycle begins anew.
The more cynical among the merfolk quietly grumble that he is good only for moral support. In truth, although he will not fight, he is quite capable of sneaking into places without being noticed, and discerning that which has been hidden or concealed. His instinctual lishu allows him to create phantom 'eyes' which are as astute as he is. If he is close to them, he may see as they see. If they are far, he may place them so that they may observe, then return later to collect them and absorb whatever insights they have gained.
