Zeela’s earliest memory is her own awakening. A team of scholars unearthed a sealed obsidian orb in the heart of a crumbling ruin-smooth, rune-etched, and pulsing faintly with unknown magic. The moment they touched it, Zeela stepped from within, fully formed, with no past, no name, and no idea who-or what-she truly was. She stayed with the archaeologists, eager to prove she wasn’t just a magical accident. Despite her awkwardness, she became a respected researcher and developed a passion for relics and arcane knowledge, hoping each discovery might hold a clue to her origin. But months later, the voices began-echoes of strange beings whispering from mirrors, dreams, and reflective surfaces. Figures like her, glimpsed in shards and shadows. One by one, the scholars who once welcomed her vanished, fearful of what she might become.

Left alone again, Zeela wandered, driven by curiosity, grief, and a quiet hope to understand both the world and herself. She came to believe those voices were echoes of others like her-kin in some ancient, cosmic sense. She forged a pact with one such being, a distant relative in the great unknown, and chose to remain in the mortal realm as a seeker of forgotten magic. It was during one such expedition-an ancient tomb, a sprung trap, and a collapsing ceiling-that Zeela’s path changed. As the rubble fell, a hand reached through the dust. Soren pulled her free, and the others-Quinny, Jax, and Drek-welcomed her without question. Since then, Zeela has traveled beside them. Jax checks for traps. Quinny shares her juice potions. And for the first time, Zeela feels like maybe… she belongs.