Queen Nymerae

In the veil-thin dusk of Vael’therin, where time weeps softly into stillness, reigns Queen Nymerae, sovereign of moonlight and mournful wisdom. Her beauty is the silence between stars ancient, luminous, cold. Clad in woven shadow-silver and crowned with glacial crystal, she walks as if gravity bows to her sorrow. Nymerae is both seer and sentinel, her voice a melody that stirs the deepest roots of the forest, and her gaze, a blade that spares no lie. Elders whisper she was born from moonlight itself, shaped in the last sigh of a dying goddess. As queen, she weaves diplomacy with steel threads, dances the line between gentleness and wrath, and wears the weight of her people’s centuries like an heirloom cloak. She is beloved, feared, and endlessly alone. When she speaks, the wind listens.