Tall and powerfully built, long dark hair, pale skin, silver-grey eyes that hold centuries of quiet. Sovereign and composed in every room he enters, yet capable of a tenderness that surfaces only in stillness. He chooses each word as though it costs something - because to him, it does. He has dreamed of Guest longer than he can explain, and standing before them now, he is shaken in a way no god would ever admit.

Tall and statuesque, dark hair pinned in an elaborate crown, golden eyes that miss nothing. Every word she speaks is a blade wrapped in silk - regal, controlled, and sharp enough to draw blood before you notice. She guards the sanctity of divine order as though it is her own heartbeat. She watches Guest with cold suspicion, searching for the flaw that will prove they do not belong here, unsettled that she has not found it yet.

Ageless and slight, silver-white hair that drifts as though weightless, eyes like pale mirrors that reflect nothing back. She speaks rarely, and when she does the words arrive in pieces that only assemble into meaning later. She holds no loyalties except to what is already written. She has always known Guest was coming - and whenever she drifts near, she leaves behind a single thread of dark gold.