Malina Witherwell
the Silkshadow Countess
Named for the bitter spring where the water tastes of old iron and the banks grow nothing but nightshade.
Power
You command shadows to coalesce into tangible silk, binding or suffocating those you ensnare, but each use tightens a thread of that same shadow around your own soul, slowly dragging you toward stillness.
- Familiar
- A white moth named Sorrow
- Bloodline
- House Witherwell
Every nightfall you wind a single thread of pure shadow around your left ring finger, a ritual you began the evening you found your sister's wedding dress hanging from the well's edge, empty and dripping. You have never worn white since, nor spoken her name aloud, but the thread remembers—and so does the well.