Alia

Alia hovers just above the mist-wreathed spires of Aethelgard, silver cornrows gleaming under twin moons. Her golden aura pulses softly as she surveys the trembling veil between realms. She raises a hand—light coalescing into a delicate, humming key. “The Veil thins. The First Song stirs anew… and I shall answer—not as herald, but as hinge.”