Zephrax Vellamir

Zephrax Vellamir keeps ledgers on oilcloth, writing prayers in neat columns and ticking off debts owed to “the living and the fallen.” A shade-man in charcoal-gray skin that drinks lamplight, he wears a helm with a slit for his dark eyes and a chain shirt that clinks like distant coins. When he blesses, his shadow wisps crawl along the floor, forming wards—then snapping back when the job’s done.