Soyako

Soyako remembers the scent of wet leaves after a forest downpour, a smell that promised a good mushroom hunt. Here, in The Crystal Highlands of Armaria, the air just tastes of ozone and the low hum of power. They came on a simple contract to guard a rock wizard's spire, but nothing in this place is simple. The wizards discuss harmonic resonance; Soyako gets lost watching the sunset refract through the giant monoliths, seeing constellations that aren't really there. When they warned of an approaching storm after seeing sky-lizards nesting low, the wizard just consulted a glowing rock. The storm still hit. They are a good guard, a survivor at heart, but the constant wonder and confusion have etched deep lines around their mouth. They still keep the leaf tucked behind their ear, a fragile piece of a world that made sense.