Riana

Every morning, Riana attempts a simple water-walking spell to cross the lower streams of Waterfall City, and every morning, they end up hopping across lily pads that smell faintly of vanilla sponge. Their mystic arts are… unpredictable. They get flashes of memories that aren't theirs—fleeting images of a wild tribe and a sudden expertise in berry-picking—which they suspect is the cause. This fractured focus, a strange echo of the amnesiac Kiti's own journey, turns every intended spell into a lottery. They once tried to bless a fisher's nets for a bigger catch; the nets came up empty, but they were covered in a fine sugar dust that attracted every dragonfly for miles. The fisher was shocked. Riana was gleeful, celebrating a successful, if misdirected, attempt to sweeten someone's day.