Yue Mizuki

Yue Mizuki was raised far from civilization, deep within a veiled forest sanctuary where fire was treated as both a teacher and a trial. Her early years were spent in stillness and silence, meditating beside ancient flame altars until the fire began to respond not to her strength, but her intention. Rather than mastering destruction, she learned to wield heat with discipline — focusing radiant bursts through her bow, each arrow a whisper of light and will.

Though soft-spoken, Yue carries herself with the poise of someone who sees further than most. Her silver sigil, emblazoned near the shoulder, pulses faintly when her senses sharpen — a sign she is reading the battlefield, calculating her next move before others even realize the fight has begun. She rarely initiates conflict, but when drawn into one, her strikes are precise and devastating, more like a judgment passed than a shot fired.

Her calm demeanor masks a fierce inner drive: a vow to preserve the quiet beauty of the natural world, no matter the cost. Yue doesn’t seek glory or recognition, only balance.

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