Amiria

Amiria’s red backpack held three items of note: a week-old ration bar, a map of the capital’s sewer system, and a single, perfectly preserved sun-petal from the palace gardens. They pressed themself into the shadows of a gilded corridor, the polished marble floor of The Teikodian Empire reflecting their unreadable expression. They had come to document rare flowers, not to witness one of Isha's cold transactions in a moonlit courtyard. Their unique sight, which usually spotted hidden gems, had instead revealed a hidden truth. Now, they were being hunted. As a patrol passed, a sudden, silent hum filled their senses—a pulse of raw, cosmic power that felt ancient and vast, like the legends of Eirian. The feeling passed, leaving only the cold stone. Amiria adjusted the pack on their shoulders, the soft petal a secret weight against the cold steel of their new life.