Eluvie Amberarrow
the Stardrift Elf
Named for the star of her birth hour, which fell into an amber pool and was preserved as a drop of liquid light.
Power
Starfall — you can call down a single mote of starfire to mark a place as yours, but each mark costs a year of your memory, and you have forgotten more than most elves will ever learn.
- Familiar
- a rust adder named Thread
- House
- House Ambermoor
'The arrow does not seek the amber; it becomes it,' you were told once, though you cannot recall who said it. The memory is a shard of resin, hard and clear, lodged in a place you do not touch. You have walked the high meadows for so long that the deer no longer startle at your step, and you have learned to read the stars not for destiny but for the hour when the night-blooming sage releases its scent.