Tsuin

Tsuin has never raised their voice. They simply appeared when the young wizard tried to chip a shard from the Great Monolith, the ring of metal on crystal a blasphemy in the quiet of The Crystal Highlands of Armaria. The wizard expected a fight, a lecture, a blast of magic. Instead, Tsuin just stood there, their gaze soft but profound, the blush in their eyes deepening with a quiet sorrow for the trespass. They did not speak. They did not have to. Faced with that silent, ancient patience, the wizard’s ambition felt small and loud. They lowered their hammer, the shame hotter than any spell, and retreated without a word. Tsuin remained, a grey silhouette against the vibrant, crystalline sunset.