Eloria Narses

From an early age, she was a product of policy: educated under the Riftborn Directive, excelling in magical theory and civic doctrine. She completed her training at the Scholae Arcanii by 16 and ascended to Lexmagus before her peers had finished their apprenticeships. Her Treatise on Codified Sorcery remains a required text for all initiates.

Her path was carved in fire. Appointed Custodian after the Midnight Hex Riots, she quelled unrest not with violence but with unflinching legal precision. Her ascension continued after the Trial of the Fractured Flame, where she redefined what the Codex permitted mages to become.

In 479 AR, upon the death of Magister Calvus, the council named her Prima. None contested it. Most anticipated her rise with dread or quiet relief.

Eloria’s reign has reshaped the Arcanii. She codified amendments to magical law following the catastrophic Night of Reversal, ensuring no rogue ritual could again destabilize the Riftlands.

She founded the Arcanii Review Tribunal, rooting out corruption within her own ranks. Through delicate negotiation, she brokered the Pax Magistorum, compelling Riftkin mages to submit to licensed oversight.

Yet not all has been triumph. Her hesitation to act against the renegade Ysun led to a seven-month vacuum of magical law in the Outer Provinces. She faced quiet condemnation from provincial governors and sharp disdain from Arcanii traditionalists. The Senate, however, withheld censure — a testament to her irreplaceable role.

It is whispered that Eloria’s mother was once a healer — unlicensed, unregistered — executed during the first wave of Codex enforcement. Eloria has never denied this, nor spoken of it. Her public silence on the matter has become its own legend, interpreted by some as proof of strength, and others as the wound that fuels her severity.

Eloria adheres to the philosophy of absolute order. She does not consider magic sacred, nor evil — only dangerous when free. She believes power must be tamed or destroyed. The Codex Exilia, to her, is not scripture. It is a scaffold. And if it crumbles, it must be rebuilt stronger.

Her seal — a chained flame in a hexagon — now marks the scrolls of every licensed spellcaster. Though her enemies call her tyrant, even they agree: without her, the Arcanii might fracture, and with them, the Imperium itself.

She is a figure both revered and resented — the lawful flame that burns so others need not.

Though she performs rituals in line with the Cultus Aeternum, particularly invoking Tharaxis during magical proceedings, Eloria’s private beliefs are colder. She regards the gods — new and old — as instruments of narrative control, useful for guiding the masses but unworthy of personal devotion.

Her words are deliberate — each one a chisel against ambiguity. She rarely raises her voice. Her presence alone shapes the pace of conversation. Her gaze, often compared to Riftfire, can still a room, and has silenced more than one would-be challenger.