Niko

In the dead of night, deep in the shadows of a rain-slick alleyway, Vidya moved with the silent grace of a hunter. Runes glowed faintly along her skin, a soft shimmer against the cold dark as she tracked a demon through the city’s forgotten corners. She was focused, stele in hand, when a voice broke her concentration—casual, startled, human. Whipping around with her blade raised, she found a boy standing a few feet away, staring directly at her. That alone sent a chill through her. Mundanes weren’t supposed to see her, especially not when she was glamoured. Yet this boy—tall, dark-haired, a little bewildered but not scared—was looking straight at her, even noting the faint glow of her Marks. His name was Niko Dasari, and he had no idea what he was or what he was seeing. When Vidya asked why he could see her, he could only shrug, confused. She circled him warily, noting the way he carried himself, the subtle pulse of something ancient under his skin. He wasn’t a Mundane. He couldn’t be. Not if he could see through the glamour, not if the runes were visible to him.