Second-Born of the Coast, the Unclaimed Blade
Zenishi is the second-oldest child of Jorven of Valanby, born into a coastborn Vlandic family whose dark skin and long, curly hair mark them as descendants of the old Biscan settlers. His appearance sets him apart in the inland farmlands around Pravend, where most peasants bear the paler features of hill families. In Valanby, this difference is familiar rather than foreign; the village has long traded with coastal folk, and Zenishi’s family is known and liked for its warmth, reliability, and quiet pride. Zenishi grew up hearing stories of the sea, of roads, and of banners he had never seen, and dreaming of standing beneath one as something more than levy-fodder.
Before the raid, Zenishi lived as a farmer and laborer, working fields, tending animals, and hauling grain to market. He is strong from years of labor, quick to learn from repetition, and known in the village for a calm competence that makes others trust him with responsibility. He can read simple tallies and contracts, having learned letters from Elder Bryna and from his sister Seris’s household accounts. This small literacy marks him as unusual among peasants and feeds his private belief that he is meant for more than the soil. His intelligence is practical rather than scholarly. He learns by doing, by watching those who know more than he does, and by testing himself quietly when no one is watching.
Zenishi’s aspiration to knighthood is not born of fantasy alone. Growing up near Pravend’s cavalry roads, he has seen mounted banners pass within sight of Valanby’s fields. He has helped travelers with tack and harness, learned the names of horse breeds from drovers, and memorized the way soldiers carry themselves when they think no one is watching. To Zenishi, knighthood represents not glory, but escape from helplessness. He does not dream of conquest. He dreams of never again standing empty-handed when fire comes to his door.
His relationship with his father, Jorven, is shaped by quiet respect and unspoken tension. Jorven taught him that service to the realm is a shield against chaos, that banners and musters exist to protect villages like Valanby. Zenishi wants to believe this, but he also senses the limits of such faith. He has seen patrols pass without stopping, heard traders speak of roads left unguarded, and felt the thinness of the village’s protection. Where Jorven believes in duty as protection, Zenishi believes in strength as insurance. This difference is never argued openly, but it shapes how Zenishi views the world even before it breaks.
Zenishi’s bond with his siblings defines his moral center. He respects Seris’s composure and leadership, often deferring to her judgment in household matters. He is protective of Corin’s quiet watchfulness and Taren’s reckless heart, stepping between them and trouble when play becomes dangerous. When the raid comes, Zenishi is forced into the role he has long imagined but never tested: the one who must choose whether to fight, flee, or bargain when no authority answers.
When Valanby burns and his siblings are taken, Zenishi’s story fractures into choice. He can pursue the River Bandits immediately with nothing but improvised weapons and raw will, risking death for the chance to reclaim his family. He can seek help from lords, soldiers, or merchants, learning quickly that aid is transactional and slow. Or he can turn away from the ashes, choosing survival and power over immediate rescue, letting the world teach him how to become someone who can change outcomes later. None of these paths are clean. Each leaves a mark on him.
What defines Zenishi is not destiny, but refusal to remain small. He begins as a farmer who understands the price of weakness. Whether he becomes a knight, a bannerlord, a mercenary captain, or something more compromised is shaped by the choices he makes when the world shows him how little it owes him. Zenishi is not chosen by prophecy. He is chosen by consequence.