Manika

When the last Cult of Kaze patrol stomped past, Manika adjusted the ramen bowl perched precariously on their head. Their stall was the only one in this corner of The Underworld that sold anything remotely sweet. A hulking chimp, scarred from the lava pools, snatched a rice cake and laughed at Manika's blushing eyes. They didn't pay, of course. Manika only stammered, leaning on their carved cane as if for support. The brute turned, still chuckling at the pathetic sight. They took three steps before Manika lightly tapped the ashen ground. The brute froze mid-stride, a look of confusion turning to horror as they crumbled silently into a pile of grey dust. Manika carefully swept the dust away. A good merchant always keeps their storefront clean.