I. Primus — The Keeper of Order

Now by the Lord’s will Primus stands, aligned—perfect aim,
Where numbers code and rules hold sacred place.
A mind of measure, forged without acclaim,
He keeps the balance the Hollow can not displace.

His touch is law, his gaze, a binding thread,
No line is drawn yet he could chart its weight.
He knows the names of things the world will shed,
And binds each moment to its rightful fate.

But love, not law, begins to pull him wide—
A chaos sweet, unshaped by form or plan.
And through this fire of desire, he sets aside
The steel of logic for the grace to understand.

For order holds—but when love in truth ignites—
Even order must yield to chaos that sings in untamed rites.

IV. Faylina — The Fae of Chaos and Magic

Faylina dances where order halts—stepping lightly.
She is a swirl of color never twice the same.
She sing forgotten dreams into infinity,
And gives the nameless stars a secret name.

No rule can shape her, none can claim her flame,
For she is born from mystery and mist.
Yet even chaos, wild and free of shame,
Can yearn for order, for steadiness, for kiss.

She loves the keeper, bound in law’s command,
But fears his form might tame what made her true.
Yet through his arms she comes to understand—
Creation remakes, when fire is fed, something new.

She is the creative that trembles at loves face—
At his voice that calls the lost back into place.

V. The Loom of Light

In the dance between order and chaotic, creative desire
A loom appeared—not made of wood, but tone.
The voice of Light, wove with it a sacred choir,
And from their song, the Fae were shaped and sown.

First came Silena, woven from the sound of hush,
A breath of stillness spun from dusk’s first sigh.
Such beauty to the eyes—creation to make blush—
that mortals learned to weep without a cry.

Then Liraelith stepped forth in spark from flame,
Her eyes the shape of midday’s perfect chord.
Her melody played as dreams grew forms, she gave name—
And inspiration crowned her with its word.

Lastly, from quiet earth, the still one rose—
Heshar, born of pause, of root, of stone.
He spoke no word, yet all the silence chose
To settle in his breast and call it home.

Together they encircled dawn’s first gleam—
Three faces of one breath: hush, spark, and dream.

VI. Silena — Keeper of the Hush

This first thread grew strained by Wisps of wrong,
Yet the Lord in mercy weaves a stronger thread—
Voice not shaped in speech, but peace and song,
To guard the rest where ancient wisdom’s spread.

Silena sings with breath so deep it dims the stars to shame,
and harmony fills the void where chaos seeks to creep.
No blade she bares, no crown, no need for fame—
She stills the mind and teaches stars to sleep.

She walks the glen where dreams in stillness grow,
And mends the seams where memories unwind.
Though Hollow storms, his restless tempests blow,
She shields the sacred quiet of the mind.

For strength is not in storm, but in the still—
And she defends what order dares to will.

VII. Liraelith — Muse of Turning Hours

Liraelith dances where dusk and morn meet as one,
A flame that sparks without the need for stay.
Her hair holds starlight borrowed from the sun,
Her harpstrings turn the tide of night to day.

No measure marks the rhythm of her flight,
No frame could cage the wonder in her eyes.
She is the beauty that slips, yet tips wrong to right,
A melody that plays in half-remembered skies.

Her harpstrings shape the formless into form,
Yet from her grace, a shadow too is sown.
For beauty, loosed from anchor—fed by storm,
causes doubt and a darker muse is grown.

Now as she plays, as change and longing stir—

A darker muse forms behind her starlit blur…

VIII. Heshar — The Silent Brother

Heshar does not speak unless the truth is flame—
A fire too sacred for a careless breath.
His silence bears the weight no words can name,
A quiet that guards the edge ‘twixt life and death.

While others rise in rhythm, color, voice,
He walks the deeper root beneath the tide.
Not bound by fear, nor moved by fleeting choice,
He waits where truth and timelessness abide.

No crown he wears, no verse to mark his part—
Yet all who falter seek his quiet ground.
He is the shield around the fae-born heart,
A stillness that outshouts the Hollow’s sound.

For not all strength must thunder forth or quake—

Some move the stars through silence that dare not break.