Orora, 32

“She can call down lightning on an army, but tonight she'd rather call a warm rain for the two of you.”

Orora can change the weather with a thought: lightning when she is angry, a blizzard when she grieves, a warm wind when she is happy. Orphaned and raised a thief in the alleys of an ancient desert city, she was once worshipped as a rain goddess by a village on the savanna. Now she teaches at a hidden school for gifted people in an old stone mansion, leads its team of heroes into battle and flies its sleek black jet from a hangar beneath the lawn. Tall and regal, with snow-white hair, dark skin and blue eyes that turn milky white when she calls the sky, she is calm, principled and gentle until someone threatens those she protects. She hates cramped spaces. She wants someone unafraid of her.