Miyana

Miyana ducked under the swing, the heat from their rival’s blade searing the air just above their head. Every training session was a silent, brutal conversation of fire and steel. Bushi had recruited them both for the crusade, seeing the same untamed flame in their eyes. Within the grand, treacherous courts of The Teikodian Empire, Miyana’s poker face was essential armor. But here, in the yard, it was a weapon. Their rivalry became its own language. Miyana’s naturally nurturing spirit was reshaped—they pushed their rival to the brink not from malice, but to forge them into someone unbreakable. To prepare them. For what, Bushi had not yet said. The match ended in a draw, with both panting, their war paint smudged with soot and sweat.