Elysiel moves like riverlight on leaves—deliberate, flowing, and rarely wasted. She wears a cuirass polished to a mirror sheen over a forest-green gambeson; the cuirass is engraved with a stylized silver fern that curls toward her left shoulder. Her posture is open but always poised at the edge of motion, as if listening to a distant command. The most arresting sight is the pale, faintly luminescent scar that arcs from her right temple to her lower jaw: closer inspection reveals the scar is not a wound but a line of silver-threaded bark embedded beneath skin, a remnant of the Grove-Binding ritual. Contradicting her martial bearing are tiny bell-chimes braided into a single plait of hair at the nape of her neck; they chime softly when she walks, a sound more often heard in festival courts than battle lines.