Sister Maelune Nayra is a towering Yotunn woman with the slow, deliberate grace of someone who has spent years walking stone galleries lined with heat and incense. Her presence is startling at first, broad as a doorframe and nearly as imposing, yet she moves with a careful, almost reverent economy, as if she is perpetually aware of every footstep reverberating through holy masonry. Her robes are layered in smoke-blue wool and ash-white linen, their hems embroidered with tiny stitched flames that shimmer when she sings. The most striking contradiction is her hands, huge and workscarred from copying hymn tablets and handling cathedral mechanisms, adorned with delicate silver prayer rings that jingle like wind chimes when she gestures. Her expression is severe until she begins to explain doctrine, when her eyes soften with the joy of someone speaking about a beloved and difficult truth. She often smells faintly of hot stone, oil lamp smoke, and orange peel tea.