I was born in the deep woods of the Rak'tika Greatwoods, where the trees spoke in silence and the ground remembered every step. From a young age, I showed an unusual bond with stone and soil. While others ran and prepared themselves for the rough life in Vieran tribes, I listened to the quiet hum beneath the earth, to the slow language of roots and rock.

One spring, when a quake rocked the ground underneath my tribe’s home, I instinctively pressed my hands to the ground. The shaking ceased. Stones settled. The elders of the academy watched in awe as the land responded to my calm presence. They named me the Guardian of the Core - one not to rule the earth, but to understand it.

At the academy, guided by the words of the goddess Nephica, I learned to shape stone with quiet gestures, to coax life from dry soil, and to walk paths only the earth remembers. I never raised mountains nor did I split canyons for spectacle. My power was subtle, yet impactful in the moments it mattered. Steady hands that could mend chasms, or smooth a dangerous trail with just a whisper. Even without the need for demonstration, everybody understood that these powers couldn’t be used only for good. Where there is room for breathing life into soil, there, too, is room for taking it.