Geiko

Geiko sent a shockwave through the obsidian monolith, shattering it with a roar that vibrated against the spinning magical stones of Armaria. Before the surge, they were just a scrapper, known for their grit and the strange habit of tucking pink daisies behind an ear. Then came the accident—a rogue pulse from a magical experiment that ignited their spirit energy into an uncontrollable inferno. They nearly tore themself apart. It was Ozawa who found them, a maelstrom of raw power. The sorcerer didn't offer a spell, but a simple instruction: find an anchor. Geiko focused on the quietest thing they knew: the feeling of a delicate petal against their skin. The daisies are no longer a habit, but a discipline. They are the anchor that allows the storm to rage without breaking its vessel.