I was raised between two worlds, the child of a human father and elven mother, but it was the light of Illus, the Lantern, that gave me a true sense of belonging. From childhood, I believed the gods spoke through signs and omens. A flickering flame, a chance encounter, even a sudden change in the weather could carry meaning if one was willing to listen. That belief eventually led me to become a cleric of Illus.
I have sworn to uphold my sacred vows, bring light and knowledge to those who need it, and show kindness whenever I can. I would gladly give my life defending my faith. Yet I have one failing: I am quick to judge those who reject the gods. To me, the faithless have deliberately chosen darkness when the light is there for all to see.
Years ago, I discovered an ancient lantern in a forgotten shrine of Illus. When I touched it, the flame suddenly burned without fuel and showed me an image of a man standing alone in darkness. I took it as an omen and began searching for the man, convinced that Illus had given me a sacred task.
I eventually found him. He was a bitter, faithless man who had lost his family and blamed the gods for abandoning them. I judged him immediately and nearly walked away.
But the lantern continued to burn.
Now I travel with a question I cannot answer: Why would Illus send me to save someone who has rejected the gods?
I believe the answer is important, but I fear what it may reveal about me. Perhaps the Lantern is showing me that even those who have lost their faith are not beyond its light. Or perhaps I have misunderstood the omen entirely.
I intend to find the man again and learn why Illus brought us together. Until then, I will continue to follow my vows, watch for the signs, and try to remember that sometimes the greatest darkness is not found in others, but within ourselves.
Captured, but still alive. Waiting for rescue.