For seventy-five years the Vhalandir have been guided by King Zaxus III, now in the twilight of his life at two hundred and forty years of age. He ascended the throne upon the passing of his father, King Zaxus II, who reigned until the venerable age of two hundred and forty-five. From father to son, the Zaxian line has been one of steady hands and open hearts, carrying the Vhalandir through centuries of peace.

Zaxus III is known not only as a ruler, but as a patron of beauty. The king’s halls are alive with music and craft, for he has ever believed that the soul of his people lies not in conquest or might, but in the art they weave, the stories they tell, and the songs they sing beneath the boughs of Thalorien. Himself no stranger to the lyre and the reed-flute, he delights in joining the court musicians, his deep laughter carrying as readily as any melody. When disputes arise among his folk, they are rarely grave. The Vhalandir’s quarrels are more often about artistry than land: whose tapestry shall adorn a hall, whose verse is truer to the dawn. In such matters Zaxus has long judged with wit and creativity, crafting resolutions that leave all parties smiling. His humour is renowned—his judgments are remembered less as rulings and more as tales retold around hearth-fires.

By his side stands Queen Myxas, beloved of the people and counsellor to her husband. Together they raised three children: Nurix (177), heir apparent and a thoughtful student of lore; Yixl (145), spirited and bold; and Sayox (132), whose voice in song is said to rival the morning thrush. Their presence has lent warmth to the royal halls, though in recent years the weight of the crown has bent Zaxus’ shoulders and he leans more upon the guidance of his Elder Council.

At his right hand is always Nyxen, bearer of the ceremonial mantle of Royal Bodyguard. Though violence has been unknown among the Vhalandir for many generations, the role remains one of highest honour. It is said the king’s father, upon his death, released his own guard from duty with words of gratitude that became part of Vhalandir custom: “When the king’s song is ended, so too the shield may rest.” Nyxen upholds this tradition with quiet pride, his presence less a ward against danger and more a living symbol of loyalty.

Now, in his age, King Zaxus III is revered not only as a ruler but as a living emblem of the long peace of the Vhalandir. His reign is a tapestry of art, laughter, and gentle wisdom—threads woven through the forest halls that will long outlast his mortal years.