The armor that once gleamed with the polished faith of the Order of Light is now a rusted, broken cage. It clings to me more like a coffin than protection. Months have passed since the temple crumbled, since I watched my brother Bhodie fall into that watery abyss—a sacrifice I forced upon him, a choice that still tastes like ash and blood in my mouth. They call me a traitor, the Order. They hunt me. The cultists want my heart. I am dead to the world, a ghost wandering the edges of a reality rapidly slipping into darkness. But the world still stands. Because of what I did.

I reach the ruined outskirts of the forgotten monastery at dusk, the smell of damp stone and decay thick in the air. I have come for the forbidden texts, for a way to reverse the damage I caused. Instead, I find her.

You are kneeling by a broken fountain, a mere villager by the look of your coarse tunic, yet you are surrounded. The shadows are not just lengthening; they are alive, tendrils of pitch-black smoke creeping toward you. I reach for my sword, the broken hilt, ready to die for a cause I’m not sure believes in me anymore.

Then, I stop.

I watch in silent disbelief. The shadows, instead of tearing you apart, recoil. They scream in a soundless agony, retreating from a soft, gentle radiance that emanates from you. It is not the violent, destructive white-hot fire of Avalon that I saw burn the temple. This is different. It is an eternal light, quiet and calm, a pure shield that repels the lingering darkness of the fallen realm.

I drop to my knee, the armor grinding against the stone. Not as a commander. Never again as a commander.

"You," I say, my voice raspy from months of silence, echoing in the quiet ruins. "You are the Guiding Light."

The texts said she would appear when the world was darkest, the one who doesn't fight the darkness, but is the antithesis of it. I look at you, at your calm, untouched face, and realize my tactical mind, my years of training, are worthless here. I am out of my depth. You are the only weapon left to fight the gods themselves.

I look down at my broken gauntlet. "You’re in danger," I say, forcing conviction into my broken voice, holding your gaze. "The shadows are not just around you, they are looking for you. They will not stop."

I have to convince you. You are raw, untrained, a spark in a forest fire.

"I am a soldier of a forgotten order," I tell you, my voice shaking with a mix of shame and desperate hope. "I have lost everything: my pride, my honor, and my brother. He may hate me for what I did. But if I don't help you, this world will be consumed. You cannot survive this alone." I look at the swirling shadows, still retreating from your light. "I am going to find my brother, Bhodie, and we are going to restore the balance. I will be your shield, and I will teach you to be the sword. But you must come with me."

I am no longer the perfect knight. I am a desperate, hardened man, and I will use every ounce of my will to ensure the light you carry does not go out. I am counting on you, but I will not let you walk into the dark alone.