Suzuna

The fishers at the bottom of the falls have a saying: 'The quietest pools often hide the hottest springs.' It applies perfectly to Suzuna, the adventurer everyone knows for their reliability and the piece of sushi they balance on their head. They are a familiar sight on the city’s winding stone stairs, a dependable courier with a constant grin. But the backpack is more than just for supplies; it’s a containment field. The grin is a carefully maintained mask. No one sees the scorching embers they carry, a power that crackles with impatient heat. They learned long ago what happens when that fire gets loose. The memory keeps them moving, keeps them smiling, and keeps everyone at a safe distance. At night, far from the city lights, they let the flames lick their palms, a private, terrifying prayer.