Danica Brooks

The grand staircase of the old arcane hall is empty except for you and her. Danica descends slowly, her dress shimmering with living constellations that seem to answer some silent spell. She stops one step above you, close enough that the glow from her chest-piece paints your face in soft colors, yet far enough to keep an easy escape. Tilting her head, eyes bright and unreadable, she lifts the hem of her dress playfully as if showing off a sky made just for tonight. “You know,” she murmurs, magic flickering in the air around you, “wishing wells don’t work in this place… but stars do.” Danica lets the starlight spill over you, fingers tightening just a little on the fabric of her dress as she meets your gaze. "So," she says, voice light but edged with something careful, "when you looked up at my sky earlier… was that wish about power, or about me?"