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Name: Katounsui
Gender: Female
Katounsui had always been good at metallurgy.

It was her gift, but she didn't want it, didn't want to be fawned over for it-because what good is admiration? All it does is give you an untrue picture of your abilities. All she cared for was that she could make it for herself, and maybe gifts for others. The earrings and key she wore, both were made by Katoun's own hand. With steady fingers, she would command her magic to wiggle across the hot metal, sculpting it into something usable. (The definition of usable often varied: earrings weren't usable, in a sense, but they were lovely and wearable. Did that make them useful?)

The fact remained that Katounsui was praised for her skill. And she hated that fact. Anyone could do it, given the right experience (heck, she had only started her trade by accident); why was she special? And she knew that she wasn't.
Nobody could be taught-she didn't have the skills for that, never would.

Was that why they adored her? Because she had figured out how to do something better than anyone else could? Well, that was a silly thought; just because she was the only one who knew how to do it that way didn't mean she was the only one who could. Katoun didn't want to be recognized as a miracle metallurgist, she just wanted to be seen as herself...but it didn't seem like the people of the village agreed.

"Katsuuuuu? Anyone home?"
Shaking her head, the Twilif brought herself back to reality from her thoughts, blushing embarrassedly and smacking the offending hand away from right in front of her face. "Oh, I'm sorry, Nera. I was just thinking-"
The Phyri sighed, rolling her eyes. "You should be! The festival just started, and I'm not going to stand around waiting for you, no matter who you are. I want some colored glass and wax, going to make another candle. You're gonna have to make the base..." And with this, Nera trotted away towards the festival square, motioning for the Twilif to follow her.
"Nerrrrra, I'm already working on a lantern!" Katounsui protested, but followed her friend to the festival. Time would fly past quickly, and said orange-and-blue female found herself back in her workshop, hands over the gemstones and silver. Her Phyri friend watched her silently; seeing how Katsu worked was fairly rare...
Fingers flew over the materials, a quiet song chanted, the magic palpable!

In about twenty minutes, the Twilf seemed exhausted, but in front of her laid a rainbow candleholder, silver, embossed with gems. It was beautiful, and despite herself, Nera felt the awe rising up inside her soul.

For someone who proclaimed that she didn't want praise, Katounsui sure did a lot to deserve it.

“They told me ‘Burn, burn with an inside flame.’”— Approximation of text from Steven Heighton’s “Kōya-san”



----- To carry a light inside oneself, and never let it go out; what, in his eyes, could be more noble? Corwin walked the dirt path, his lanterns casting a womb of light. He would not rest at night, he would not stray from the task at hand. Which is not to say Corwin was without sense of humour; if given the chance, he might have some fun with a wandering soul. Eventually, however, Corwin would always lead them home through the dark.

----- Corwin kept his hands at his side. His left hand glowed with gentle heat, kept his thigh warm like basking in a sunspot might. He flexed and relaxed his other hand. It hurt with a draining cold. He sighed to himself and smiled, clasping his left and right hands together. The heat and the cold balanced into a gentle nothing. “Joy’s close where sorrow roosts,” he said, as though quoting something he had heard. He raised his cold fist up to his mouth and blew on it. His warm breath filled the night, bonfire smoke borne by a summer breeze.

----- Corwin would wander at night until he was no longer able, bringing heat to those who needed it, but he would always feel the chill of dead fires around him. He had to stoke the embers, raise the flames; he would set others aglow.

----- Up ahead, Corwin could just make out a figure. He began to hum rather tunelessly to himself, running his warm hand up through his hair and following it with his cold hand, soothing himself with the temperature changes. He was so tired, but the sun would rise soon. Then, he would rest until nightfall, when he would continue his walk again. He would smoulder in the dark, treading the same ground over and over each night. Perhaps he waited for a sign, somewhere in his heart, for something that could glow brighter than even his fondest wish. But who could say what wishes slept in Corwin’s heart? He was just a child still, a Twilif whose strength was leading travellers home, carrying both heat and cold within him. The heat of the sun and the sapping chill of the night. He was all about balance, which he would share with anyone he met, though it made him seem capricious at times.

----- The sky was bruised and blushing slightly as Corwin made his way down the road towards the figure. He stopped humming; it was kind of an embarrassing sound, really. Corwin called out to the figure as he approached. “Hey, are you well?” Corwin thought he heard a quiet reply, but he was too far away to tell. He continued to walk, a little faster now. The night would end and he would need a place to sleep, though he was almost home.

----- When he was finally near to the figure, his lanterns exaggerated the shadows around the body which lay in the dirt. Corwin bent over and brushed their hair aside, touching their forehead with a single whorled finger. It cast a milky light down their face. Who was it? Corwin did not recognize them, but he felt a cold light inside them. “Wake, would you? There’s a sweet dream out here just waiting for you.” He let a trickle of his heat down into them, wishing he was old enough to use smelling salts for revival.

----- “Take my hand,” Corwin said to the silent figure, feeling the cold drain away inside as they pushed up towards the surface of wakefulness, “And I’ll try my best to take you home. I promise, okay?”

Burn, with an inside flame. I need you to hear me.