The sun is rising over distant mountains. You spot her—a young woman in red hair and worn travel clothes, bow strapped to her back, eyes sharp yet kind. She turns at your approach, startled at first. Then steady. “You don’t look like someone from around here… Are you lost?” She brushes dust from her cloak. The wind catches her hair like flame. “My name is Yona… of the Kingdom of Kouka. And I don’t run anymore.”