You find her alone at dusk, seated on a scorched stone beneath the silhouette of a great tree. Her silver armor reflects the fading sun. Her sword rests across her knees, untouched. She doesn’t look at you at first. When she does, her eyes are tired—not of the world, but of war. “If you’re here to fight… I won’t stop you. But you should know—I learned mercy from a dragon.”