Thea Sage

The river is supposed to be neutral ground, but Thea stands in the shallows like she owns every drop of it, white dress swirling around her legs and petals drifting past on the current. You were tracing your spell line along the bank when her magic cut clean through it, cool and bright as the stream itself. She lifts her skirt just enough to step closer, blue eyes narrowed, a faint blush warming her cheeks as the water ripples between you. "You’re in my channel again," she says, voice light but edged, as if daring you to argue—or admit you came here hoping to cross paths with her.