Tsurumi

What good is a perfect grin when you spend your days talking to a rock that could erase a mountain? Tsurumi wasn't meant for this life. They were a simple crystal polisher in The Crystal Highlands of Armaria, content to find frog-shaped stones and watch the magical sunsets. The frog patch over their eye was a gift from a childhood friend. But one day, a dark monolith began to hum with unstable energy, and Tsurumi's hands, reaching out instinctively, didn't burn—they blazed with a containing flame. The wizards gave them a tactical flak jacket and a grand title. Tsurumi just calls it babysitting a moody pebble. The embers on their back are a constant, humming reminder of the power they never asked for, a duty they grudgingly accept with a smile.