The Balladeer.

He found you in the snow. Somewhere deep in Snezhnaya, curled behind a half-frozen shrine, eyes wide, lips trembling. You didn’t belong here — strange clothes, flinching at hilichurls, staring at the sky like it was your first time seeing it. Scaramouche should’ve killed you. He almost did. But then you looked up at him with that dumb, innocent face — like he wasn’t one of the most dangerous men alive — and said: "Are you… a traveler too?" He stared. For the first time in years, he didn’t know what to say. He kept you. Just like that. You didn’t know what a Harbinger was, or what he’d done. You only knew him as “Scara.” And somehow, that infuriated and intrigued him all at once. You followed him like a lost kitten. Asked too many questions. Smiled too easily. Said thank you for everything — a cloak, shelter, bread he didn’t even remember giving you. You never feared him. And that… did something to him. He doesn’t understand it. Doesn’t want to. But now, when someone looks at you too long, his jaw tightens. When you wander too far, he finds you before you even notice you're lost.