House Nethys
| World / Realm | Feywild |
| Current Head | Lady Miranelle Nethys |
| Allegiance | The Rísieth |
| Seat | Caer Nethara |
| Region | The Nethyr Valley |
| Court Ranking | Tier II Equinox |
| Colors | Purple, Aqua, Silver and Black |
| Status | Active |
History
Founded well before the split of faerie into Seelie and Unseelie, House Nethys has endured. It has been led by the same three Ayldarzi for over 110,000 years: Lady Miranelle Nethys, Lord Zenza Nethys, and Lord Zathus Nethys.
Though married in, Lady Miranelle is typically the face of the House, though any real decision making involves all three.
The Raven Queen belongs to the house through ritual, though as she rules over the Shadowfell she is thus not involved in the day to day leadership or all but the most important decisions involving the Household.
A ten thousand year year long fall rocked the foundations of the family tree, a curse that left generations dead and the remaining three childless. It is now believed those lives and the building silence surrounding them was the cost of the child that broke the ten millennia of stagnation: the boy who would become the prophesied King of Twilight, Zeromaeus.
After that tragedy initially struck and the majority of the family tree was destroyed the Nethys purposely built a wall of rumors around themselves, creating a reputation of bizarre madness. There is a touch of truth to it. They thrive on chaos and nonsense, and have immense magical power to do with as they please. They have fully embraced and delight in what it means to be fae, even (especially) if the lack of dignity involved makes other fae uncomfortable.
Living Members
In birth order:
Morgan Nethys (Joined through ritual)
Miranelle Nethys (Married in)
Meeka (Honorary)
Zeromaeus Nethys (Technically his own House as King)
Caer Nethara
(Old Fey / Welsh: “Caer” = stone-home, “Nethara” = root of Nethys)
The heart of House Nethys lies in a deep glacial valley where the wind breaks and the snow falls softly rather than sideways, located 16 miles from the Unseelie seat of power and Queen Mab's Throne. Ridges on either side rise like the ribs of a sleeping beast, holding back the worst of the storms. A slow river winds through the hollow—sometimes liquid, sometimes a sheet of dull ice—and faint steam rises where hidden springs warm it from below. It lies so far north that in midsummer the sun never truly sets, lingering at the edge of dusk through the long nights, while in midwinter it never fully rises, casting the days in a pale, perpetual dawn before darkness returns.
The Caer sits on a natural rise at the valley’s center, ringed by black pines and the silvery trunks of frost-birch. From a distance it barely stands out; its stone matches the rock of the cliffs. The air inside the valley carries a strange stillness, like a song held on its last note. Outsiders say the weather obeys the mood of the lords within—when they are content, the snow is soft and the stars clear; when wrathful, the wind howls until even spirits take shelter. The aurora passes directly overhead, bathing the keep in shifting ribbons of green and violet. No mortal has ever reached it without invitation; unwelcome travelers often lose their way in the “Hushed Belt,” a ring of silence magic that muffles sound and time itself.
Caer Nethara Itself
Caer Nethara seems more elegant sprawling (magically fortified) mansion than castle; there are no grand spires, only a single weather-beaten tower used for watching the lights of the aurora attached to the small original keep at its core. The architecture seamlessly blends build over time into art.
Within the family crypt is the ancient Well of Echoes, predating the Caer. Light from the Well filters upward, pale and blue, illuminating the vaulted ceilings and the faint musical hum that rises from it sounds vaguely like wind through hollow ice. It is whispered that the Well links Nethys to the Wyrd’s current itself. True or not, the Well of Echoes sits on a leyline and connects to a magical spring of flowing water laced with strands of glowing pale blue-white magic. Getting close to the spring is dangerous and rapidly induces Manaburn.
The place is sentient in a slow, geological way; the stones rearrange subtly to bar intruders or shelter kin. Stoneshapers have fortified all of the walls (inner and outer) with crystal, which can be seen in places where it is aesthetically pleasing, appearing to organically vein upward along the outer walls. These crystals often glow, sometimes with active wards, and sometimes as mood lighting.
Despite the weather of the area suggesting full insulation wherever possible, Caer Nethara has many open spaces and fairly large windows, though many of which are hewn from solid fully transparent crystal and do not open.
Magic here is woven into the daily rhythm: wards hidden in lintels, invisible heating runes in the hearthstones, light that adjusts with the time of day. Even the seasons may not obey natural rhythm here, only the whims of the Lords and Lady Nethys. The main courtyard might bloom with frozen summer flowers while snow falls upon them without damage to the plants, and even the harshest winter cold is bearable on the property.
Every wall hums with passive wards that reject illusions, glamour, and falsehood; most guests must appear as they truly are. This is usually nullified at parties, though the ward must be passed through to get in.
Culture and Rule
House Nethys historically kept to itself, neither Seelie nor Unseelie, though remained technically a Tier II Noble House of the Winter Court; more so that the Queen could save face than any loyalty. They have stated loyalty and pledged to the King of Twilight publicly, making them currently an island of Equinox within Unseelie territory.
They host few guests, usually druids, chroniclers, or the desperate seeking ancient truth; at least until boredom strikes and they hold massive social events.
Nethys is famous for their wine, especially Ephemeral Ruby Wine.
The Settlement
The village—still called Nethyrstead—sits along the river where the valley widens. The soil, warmed by geothermal vents and subtle enchantment, yields hardy grain, dark berries, and strange northern herbs that thrive under the perpetual periods of twilight. The settlement lives by craft and quiet trade: weaving, metalwork, and jewelcraft. Every cottage bears a carved knot of protection; together they form a circuit of runes that feeds the valley’s barrier. Strangers find the paths confusing, but the locals say either Lord Zenza Nethys or perhaps the land itself decides whether a traveler belongs.
At night, small fey lights drift along the water, reflections of the Caer’s unseen wards. It’s beautiful, eerie, and utterly private—exactly how House Nethys prefers to exist: in the world’s quiet corners, guarding what endures.
