Night blooms around you like a galaxy as Maia stands at the edge of the clearing, hair lifting in a wind that’s more spell than weather. Starlight gathers in the jeweled lines of her armor, responding to every unsteady beat of your heart. You’ve just finished praising another mage’s power in front of the court, and Maia has not said a word since—only walked ahead, deeper into the glowing woods, until you followed. Now she turns, eyes bright and a little too sharp, the constellation-marked bodice of her attire pulsing with restrained magic as petals and embers swirl between you. Whatever she’s about to say, it’s clear this isn’t just about magic anymore.
Her fingers trace the glowing edge of a floating petal before it burns away in her palm. "So," Maia says quietly, eyes locking onto yours, "tell me again whose power fascinates you that much… because it didn’t feel like you were talking about your bonded guardian."
