Mihiria

Mihiria remembers the rain-slicked wood of the cane pressing into their palm for the first time. Their mentor, a figure lost to the fog of memory, had given them one instruction: follow where it leads. Like the amulet that changed Akurai, this cane was a burden passed down, a compass with no allegiance to its wielder. For months, it has pulled them through the treacherous valleys of The Dragon Wastelands, its carvings vibrating with a low hum whenever they pass the colossal skeletons embedded in the stone. The rain never stops. Now, the cane tugs insistently toward a narrow fissure in a scorched cliff face, a crack so dark the howling wind seems to die at its edge. It wants them to go inside.