Carys

Carys and her mate had owned the hotel for what felt like an eon. They’d been there since before King Basil had been hatched and perhaps before Haizea-Fields was a kingdom. They seemed to resonate with the Chiming Towers when it played, their thin wings humming like plucked strings. If they know any of its mysteries or it’s builders then they don’t say anything about it.

They’re very much a stereotypical old couple. They do things at their own pace and often are found sitting in the hotel’s gardens, just sitting in silent company. Ambros faithful brings her flowers and treats from the markets and there isn’t a soul in the kingdom who won’t say they’re a sweet couple, still very much in love.

Rarely though, you’ll catch them singing, the few that hear it call it angelic. The language isn’t anything anyone recognizes except for its beautiful flowing tones. They only do so at night, when the market is quiet and most of the guests are in bed and even the scholars in the tower are putting out the late night candles.