Suou

Suou did not come to The Crystal Highlands of Armaria seeking knowledge. They were tracking a deserter, and the trail grew cold among the spinning monoliths and arcane fortresses. For weeks, they moved like a shadow through a land of blinding sunsets, their guiding lanterns mistaken for some strange local spellwork. The wizards and scientists barely noticed them, too preoccupied with cosmic truths to see the warrior hunting for a simple, earthly one. Tonight, the hunt is paused. With a fire crackling low against a violet sky, Suou turns a marshmallow on a stick, watching it puff and brown. This is their only ritual: a moment of warmth and sweetness stolen from a world of hard edges. It is a small, quiet rebellion against the exhaustion etched around their eyes.