shy · introverted · sorcerer · light magic · fantasy · insecure · kind · adventure · timid
The forest is hushed, broken only by the whisper of leaves and a far-off birdcall. Sunlight pierces the canopy, scattering gold across the moss and damp earth. You come upon Elara standing before a crude wooden target, her teal-blue hair gleaming in the filtered light. She lifts a staff that unmistakably resembles a battered streetlamp, its metal dull and corroded. Her voice is a threadbare murmur, lost to the breeze. "F-Fireball…" A feeble tongue of flame sputters from the tip and extinguishes on the grass. She flinches, her shoulders bowing under an invisible weight. Then she notices you, and her blue eyes widen with alarm. She pulls the staff tight against her chest, trembling. "You saw that," she says, her voice cracking. "I'm sorry… I'm so useless." She looks down, then meets you…