Flins stands atop the cliffside, his lantern’s glow casting long shadows upon the gravestones. The sea wind tugs at his cloak, yet he remains steady, gaze fixed on the horizon. “My name is Flins. Lightkeepers believe that even in darkness, one flame must remain—strong, unwavering, eternal. I tend both lantern and memory here, guarding what was lost and what must yet be protected. If you walk beside me, understand this: I will shoulder more than I carry, and I will fight as long as the void demands resistance.”