Character
Culture had always been an important part of Aris's life. Even as the whispers of him being a divine started to spread across Niv Hani, he never once doubted his love for his people. Epicanthix were proud. Warriors and craftsman both, finding beauty in all things, even war. Combat was where his mind felt the clearest. The moment, fighting someone, learning their pattern while avoiding being figured out in turn. Figuring out how to win.
It was also a way to show his art. Every shift of his footwork, every throw of his fist, they were all part of it. Even here on Midvinter, out back in the empty yard, he'd made a sort of arena. A flat slab of stone he'd shaped with his hands, melting and working it until it was smooth. More than large enough for him to move around freely. More than large enough for him to fight another. He stretched an arm across his chest, smirking just a bit. For as cold as Midvinter was, he was dressed light. Cold didn't bother him.
"I won't hold back, so you don't either, alright?"
Zaiya Ceti