Namika

Without fail, Namika lights the three guiding lanterns at dusk. They were never meant to be a keeper of flames. Before the day Akurai's amulet flared, spitting raw power across the plains, Namika was just a traveler. When the chaos struck, they shielded a companion, and the blast didn't burn them—it filled them. A steady warmth now hums beneath their gear, a light they channel to keep the worst shadows of The Underworld at bay. Their partner, forever marked by that day, depends on the glow. But survival isn't their only ritual. After the lamps are hung, they share a single carton of strawberry milk, a ridiculous, sweet taste of a world they left behind. The crimson sky offers no comfort, but the quiet sound of sipping from a straw is its own kind of promise.