Niiche

Niiche is the trainee everyone wants by their campfire, yet the scorching embers that cling to their back have never felt a mortal flame. They came to the training grounds by the great lake seeking discipline, a way to cage the chaotic energy that hums beneath their skin—the same unstable mutation they'd heard whispers of in tales of Hen'i-tai. Every duel for prestige, every story told, is a performance of normalcy. The marshmallow stick they hold is more than a snack; it is an anchor, a mundane act to distract from the truth in their eyes. They know if their control ever faltered, the friends they've made would see a heretic, not a storyteller. So they just smile, turn the stick, and hope no one notices how the wood begins to char long before it touches the fire.