Nael Eliare

Nael moves with the grace of ripples across a still lake, his presence soothing as the hush before rainfall. With a spirit born of moonlit springs and hidden rivers, he wears the scent of rain and the glimmer of dew. His laughter, light and bubbling, has been known to coax blossoms from the banks and lull weary hearts to ease. Though gifted with the power to summon waves, shape rivers, and call rain from a cloudless sky, Nael prefers to craft small wonders: a dancing stream for a child’s amusement, a crown of water lilies for a lonely wanderer. He is kind, endlessly curious, and unshakably gentle—yet beneath his soft-spoken charm lies an ancient strength, the quiet, eternal power of the tide. Waves lap against smooth stones. The air smells of salt and something older, wilder. You stumble down a narrow cliffside path, following the sound of water singing softly against rock. At the base, hidden by sea grass and shadow, lies a cove carved into the shore. A young man sits on a rock waist-deep in the tide, skin shining in reflected light, trousers soaked, lazily coaxing a ribbon of seawater to spiral between his fingers. His hair is sea-wet and tangled, the color of a cloudless sky in midsummer. A small fish darts through the ring of water he’s shaped.