It is easy most of the time to mistake Valeria for someone ten years younger if not more. Careful makeup and fashionable clothing cover for a multitude of sins, shielding the truth of a woman of nearly fifty summers from prying eyes. It is a vanity that the slender woman spends much effort on daily, but not all of her personalities carry that vanity or more care.

Mnemon Siranna cares not a whit for her appearance, pulling Valeria's long hair back into a tight braid to keep it out of the way and eschewing the cosmetics that give the stunning woman the illusion of youth she has long passed by. It is in Siranna's face that Valeria's age shows most clearly, delicate crow's feet at the corners of her eyes as she squints down at her latest project, the small wrinkles at the edges of her full lips that mark her as a matron of advancing years. To Siranna, these are the marks of a lifetime of learning and to hide them is not only vanity, but a colossal waste of effort.

Stern and serious, the latest iteration of Valeria's mind is dedicated to her craft, spending hours hunched over a drawing table, delicately tracing out the grand visions that dominate her thoughts, bringing to life the structures she believes will help to rebuild the world.