Rimor
The storm had left nothing untouched; shattered wood, torn reeds, and the hollow eyes of a people who had never known mercy from the sky. Rimor stood at the edge of the broken village, watching as the survivors clawed at the ruins of their lives with bare hands, rebuilding the same fragile huts destined to fall again.
He stepped forward, his voice calm but edged with command.
"You build as your ancestors did bravely, but blind to what the future demands."
The villagers turned, wary of the stranger's radiant presence, his robes shimmering faintly with the marks of divine power long thought to be myths. But hunger softened fear, and desperation made listeners of skeptics. Without asking permission, Rimor knelt and traced lines into the dirt; precise, geometric patterns glowing faintly with threads of Anima. His fingers moved like a sculptor's chisel, carving visions of structures they had never imagined: homes that curved with the wind's force instead of breaking beneath it, foundations that rooted deep into the earth like ancient trees.
"Stone beneath wood. Arches instead of corners. A sanctuary endures because it bends before it breaks." His voice was low but absolute, a force as steady as the mountain winds.
The days became months, and months turned to years. The crude village transformed beneath Rimor's patient hand. Clay walls gave way to smooth stonework etched with shimmering veins of Voidian design. Irrigation channels twisted through the fields, turning drought-scorched soil into a quilt of green abundance. Towers rose like solemn guardians over a growing city, capturing light and channeling energy into homes where children no longer went hungry. Schools flourished beside temples of quiet thought, teaching more than survival, teaching the foundations of power.
The village elder, once hunched by years of struggle, now stood beneath the shadow of an archive taller than the tallest tree. His voice trembled as he spoke: "Why build all of this for us? We were nothing to you."
Rimor's gaze swept over the skyline, proud but unreadable. "No home stands without walls strong enough for those within it." His words were prophecy. "I'll make this a sanctuary for us all. One untouched by fear, by hunger, or the chains of the old rulers."