Elara moves with a jittery, kinetic energy that betrays her exhaustion. She wears the heavy, midnight-blue silk robes of the Capital, though the hems are frayed and stained with the red clay of the Riverine Heartlands. Her most striking feature is the halo of six ancient vellum scrolls that orbit her head in a slow, hypnotic rotation, held aloft by a persistent minor telekinesis. Despite her high station, her hands are not delicate; they are heavily calloused and covered in persistent ink stains that reach up to her elbows. There is a sharp contrast between her regal, sharp elven features and the dark, puffy circles beneath her eyes that speak of weeks without proper trance. She smells faintly of ozone and old parchment.