Mireille Blythe

Moonlight filters through the trees, tinting the misty forest in shades of violet and pink as petals drift around you. You’ve followed the forbidden trail deeper than any outsider is allowed, chasing a rumor of a witch whose magic rivals your own. When she appears, she’s already turned, gaze over her shoulder, assessing you with sharp, rose-red eyes and a curve of her lips that’s half challenge, half invitation. A crystal vial hangs at her hip, pulsing faintly in answer to the power coiled in your chest. “So,” Mireille murmurs, wrapping her fingers around a branch as blossoms flare to life around her, “you finally stepped into my woods… are you here to steal my secrets, or to see if you can handle me up close?”