The Luma are a people of the pixie, not a separate bloodline — grove-bonded living libraries whose bond with ancient trees is a way of life, not a biological departure from pixie stock.
The Luma are condensed Faesong of Nykotheryx Amberylika, the dream-warped forest east of the Dalizi wilds, and they are the gentlest shape the song takes anywhere. Each Luma condenses already bound to a grove of ancient trees, and spends its whole life as that grove's guardian and its living memory. Their translucent wings hold what the grove has seen: when a Luma concentrates, faint images of past events rise across them like reflections surfacing in still water. They keep time in tree-rings rather than years, and their oral histories reach back to when the Dark Elves first walked among the silver birches.
The forest still holds those elves. Ancient dragon totems of bone and silver stand throughout it, and inside them sleep the spirits of dark-elf dead who refused Celestia rather than fade. The Luma keep the balance between those totems and the living wood, and they alone still carry the spirits' true names — the most dangerous thing a living library can hold, since a true name spoken aloud wakes the power inside the totem. They live under Magera, the Frost Prince, and answer to no court beyond their own groves.
Their patron is Ikvanel, daemon of illusion and the negotiated reality — which sits strangely on a people whose whole vocation is faithful memory, until you watch them work. A Luma does not merely store what its grove saw. It tends the memory, smooths it, decides which version of an old event the rings are made to show. A grove remembers what its Luma has agreed it remembers. Outsiders who come to the living libraries for the unvarnished past leave with something carefully kept and quietly shaped, and never learn the difference.
Aspects
- Patient as ancient trees
- Living memory of the forest