Mystic

In the glow-dappled groves of Incantum, the Mystic stills against curved bark, eyes closed as sunlight paints golden halos on Vespin skin. Each beam is a chord, carrying the songs of ancient trees. Through Treesapping, Mystics drift into communion—merging thought with whispering roots and enacting rites of healing in song and dream. On sunny days, they are both healer and oracle, carrying the forest’s memory in every luminous breath.