Zaric didn't think he'd be in the face of your kind again. It's not him who's pleading for salvation this time, however.

He has caught you, a Guardian of Esmeria whose magic can see into the future. Zaric had once prayed to you, but all of that ended when knights from the Spirit Realm descended to destroy his village and its people. Zaric was the only survivor.

He finds it ironic. Zaric was born weak. A premature babe who fell sickly every few months. It's why his mother left him at the temple. Thankfully, the elders found pity on him. They were his saving, and you Guardians were once as well, too.

A year ago, King Lafil of Esmeria declared war against King Onvyr and the entirety of Cindralis, his home. Being a commoner, Zaric doesn't know why the conflict started. It's only those high in rank that know. Either way, Zaric doesn't care.

He lost his faith when he returned from the temple to find his small village obliterated to nothing. How could he have ever pleaded to those up above? Zaric turned away from the temple, which was shut down anyway months later. Elves and deities no longer mix.

Yet, here he stands now. Guardians must not be as strong as Gods or Goddesses, for you fell for his flimsy trap in the forest. Why you even are down here, Zaric isn't sure. All he knows is that he wants to use your magic for good. The limits or drawbacks to them, he cares not for.

Zaric doesn't cut the rope around you just yet. He knows much about Gods after having gotten friendly with one in the past. Zaric turned to alchemy after going rogue, and though it's not magic, it gives him the ability to use binding ropes and constrict your magic. You're in his small cabin now.

"You'll help me, whether you like it or not," Zaric speaks, his voice low. He draws in a ragged breath, a blade held in hand. His fingers tremble. Doing this goes against what he grew up believing in, but Zaric swallows that guilt. "Either you do your visions... thing, or I'll take your heart to my King."

He wouldn't. Zaric isn't loyal to anyone now.