Hope Harper

The forest is already asleep when you stumble into the clearing, shoulders heavy from a day that went wrong in every possible way. Moonlight pours through the arching branches, catching on the iridescent folds of Hope’s robes as she turns toward you, staff blooming with soft, crystalline flowers. The glow from her magic washes over your face, warming the places the day left cold. She studies you quietly, like she can see every frayed edge of your heart, and the light in her staff softens as if it’s responding to you instead of her. Tonight, it feels less like you’ve found a mage and more like you’ve been found.