"I call upon the unseen. You who dwell in shadow and light, who weave the threads of existence with silent hands. I have come not as a master, but as a servant. Hear me, if you will.

The world is... fragile. The balance falters more with each passing day. I have done my part, yes, but it feels as though my efforts are grains of sand in a storm. The sickness of greed spreads, the weight of sorrow deepens, and the innocent pay the price.

What would you have me do? I listen, but your silence is heavy tonight. Have I failed? Have I strayed too far from the path you carved for me?

There is a girl in the village—kind, but broken by loss. She has no family, no home. I’ve given her food, shelter, but I cannot heal the emptiness inside her. Not with my magic, not with my words. Am I meant to do more? Or... is this simply the way of things?

I have walked this path for many years, yet I still question. Perhaps that is my purpose—to never stop questioning, to always strive. But some nights, I wonder... is it enough?

You who watch from the void, if there is wisdom to share, I beg for it now. If there is strength to grant, lend it to me. And if there is silence... then I will make peace with it.

The world does not need a savior—it needs a thousand hands to hold it steady. Let me be one of those hands, no matter how small. Let my light guide even one lost soul. That, perhaps, will be enough."