Rurui

Every morning, Rurui finds a crystal that catches the dawn light and toasts a single marshmallow over its warmth. Years ago, they shared that ritual with Uragirimono, their laughter echoing off the monoliths of The Crystal Highlands of Armaria as they charted forgotten energy signatures. Then came the day beneath the fortress of spinning stones. A simple expedition for a rare gem. Uragirimono's hand on their shoulder wasn't a warning, but a shove into a chasm. Rurui watched them walk away with the prize, left to the mercy of the highlands' volatile magic. They survived, of course. Independence was a lesson learned the hard way. The sweet, charred taste is a small, defiant luxury—a promise to themself that they will always find their own fire.