Yumeya

When the magical fogs of The Dragon Wastelands first rolled in and swallowed the path, Yumeya was still just a trainee counting the days until they could go home. Their carved cane was meant for walking, not for fending off the phantom beasts that lunged from the mists, and their bright pink visor felt like a useless toy against the oppressive gloom. Lost and shivering, they finally sat on a slick rock, ready to give in. But as a spectral dragon roared, its form wavering, Yumeya noticed something through the visor: the illusion was imperfect, woven from stray light and their own fear. They tapped the cane against the stone—once, twice—a solid, real sound in a world of ghosts. The fear broke. These days, they no longer count the days, but the inconsistencies in the fog, learning the land’s lies to find its truths.