The youngest of three sisters, Vel’ythra, was the least expected to survive. While her sisters vanished into guilds and courts, she remained in the barracks of her house, training with spear and shield. The noble daughters mocked her devotion, calling her “stone-bound” and “the matron’s pet.” She answered with bruises.

Her loyalty was tested the night assassins came for her matron. Vel’ythra fought alone in the antechamber, holding the threshold against five killers while the matron’s guard scattered. Her shield shattered, her arm broke, but she stood. At dawn the matron still lived, and Vel’ythra was sworn as her honor guard.

Unlike her sisters, she bore no illusions of freedom. Her life was bound by oath — vigilance by day, steel by night. Yet the bond of three was never far from her thoughts. When Nyliss’rae’s name was whispered in court as a threat, Vel’ythra made it clear any tongue that spoke it would be cut out. When Ssin’riss vanished for months into the surface world, Vel’ythra carved her name into her shield as a reminder: a sister lost, but not forgotten.

To mock Vel’ythra’s loyalty is to court her wrath. She has no patience for intrigue, no love for contracts, but when devotion is broken, her vengeance is the purest of the three. More than once, the stones of Veythar have run red from her hand alone.