Tomiji

Tomiji can shape the very foundations of the Crystal Highlands of Armaria with a thought, yet they struggle to look up when a customer compliments their cooking. Their small ramen stall, carved from a single obsidian monolith, is a quiet refuge for the region's thinkers. For months after their last clash—a bitter feud over ley-line control—Tomiji would flinch every time Esaburou entered. Esaburou had been a rival, their explosive magic a sharp contrast to Tomiji's stoic geomancy. But they never came to fight again. They just came to eat, sitting at the same corner stool and watching the magical rocks spin over the distant fortress. No apologies were ever spoken; their truce was built not on forgiveness, but on the shared warmth of a perfectly made broth.