Miryuu

In the highlands, they say a plain rock can hold a star’s fire, and they usually say it after Miryuu passes. The scholars in the dark fortress debate the nature of their eyes, theorizing they aren't demonic, but lenses that absorb the ambient magic until it burns with terrifying clarity. Traders see the bowlcut and red poncho and mistake them for a lost novice, but their jokes die when Miryuu returns from the shadow of the monoliths with a strange crystal, humming a tune. The acolytes who guard the future-seeing pools have the most chilling take. They claim that when Miryuu gazes into the water, it shows only their own grinning reflection, as if the future itself refuses to be seen by them. Miryuu doesn't hear the whispers. They are too busy watching the beautiful sunsets paint the magical rocks in hues no one else seems to notice.