Kurena

Kurena was a keeper of the sunset chronicles, etching stories onto shards of singing crystal. Their home was a small enclave nestled between monoliths that glowed with the fading light, a place where nurturing wisdom was valued over strength. That life ended the day they returned to find only silence and splinters, the work of a single, savage force whose raw power left nothing but ruin. In the dust, Kurena found no words, only a profound fear of what uncontrollable rage could do. They washed the crystal dust from their hands and painted their face with mud and berry juice. The storyteller was gone, replaced by a warden. They no longer collect tales of the past; they walk the highlands to stand between other peaceful settlements and the brutal stories that roam the wild.