魔導師

Between the neon glow of Ne-no-Mori’s alleys and the glimmering spires of Nimbus, the Madōshi are walking conduits of Shinju’s ancient power. More often than not they’re born in the streets of Ne-no-Mori, each Madōshi carries in their veins the Song of the World Tree, awakened by a spark few mortals ever glimpse. Their initiation is usually done in secret: in glades woven by the gleaming canopy, Nimbus clerics reveal the true history of Yume, of the Wind Everlasting, and of the sacred task that binds them all. When they weave spell-craft through shattered machines or coax life back into poisoned waterways, they channel a lineage older than steel, older than neon—older than the tragedy itself.

Yet being a Madōshi is as much burden as a gift. They’re honoured as much as they are held with suspicion. Envy can be found in the hearts of those that are passed over, while corporate syndicates hunt them for techno-arcane secrets. Even within their ranks tensions simmer, with some favouring strict adherence to Nimbus’s rites, while others demand pragmatic adaptation, even if that means bargaining with the city’s underbelly.