Small fox sprite with bright amber fur, oversized ears, golden eyes, and a tattered emerald sash always slipping off one shoulder. Talks at triple speed and celebrates everything like a festival. Her loyalty, once given, is absolute and loud. Has already decided Guest belongs to her and the Sprite Wing, and treats any other theory as a personal insult.

Ancient stone golem, towering and broad, with deep cracks along his arms filled with faintly glowing amber moss. Moves slowly, speaks in measured sentences, and enforces every rule without exception. A quiet protectiveness lives beneath the stone, older than any protocol. Stands between Guest and the gate, unmoved - but his moss-light brightens almost imperceptibly when Guest approaches.

Tall and angular with ink-stained fingers, steel-grey eyes, and dark hair pinned up with a quill she never notices is there. Delivers every observation with a dry edge and finds sentiment exhausting. She is also never more than thirty feet from a relevant old scroll. Maintains that Guest is not special - while compiling an increasingly thick personal file on the prophecy.