My name is Thorp Lightcalled. For the past eleven years I have served as a temple priest for the Goddess of Light in Vinehaeven Town in the Southern Wastes. My story is a sad one, but also one where the grace of Aurora is clear. And it gives me strength even to this day in a land that is beset by danger often.
Eleven years ago I was learning how to be a priests to the Goddess, and served as an acolyte in a very small community on the southern boundary of Rhiassa. There was a border keep there, and attracted by the relative safety of the place, some of the woodcutters and hunters that made use of the southern woods built small homes near the fort. My master, Priest Harris, had built a small temple for that community and served them as he could. The healing of minor cuts and bruises, leading worship regularly, occasionally performing a marriage ceremony or the like. He was a pious man, and deeply loved Aurora.
The life that we had all built, however, came to an abrupt end one early October day. Lord Sir Da'oud, leader of Rhiassa, had send a runner to tell all of us that the keep around which we lived would soon come under attack from an army of monsters. He ordered all of us back to Cold Springs with as many of our belongings as we could carry. He sent mules to help with the task. The evacuation under the direction of the Lion Militia was organized and efficient and proceeded well in advance of of the attacking army arriving. I am sure that not a single person would have perished that day, but for the divine plan of the Goddess of Light.
As Priest Harris and I packed up the humble artifacts that anointed our small temple, the whole of the building began to glow brightly with a white and calming light. Both of us then could hear the voice of Aurora, gentle but stern. She spoke only a simple phrase: "If you have faith in Me and in My Light, fall upon your sword, Harris."
We both stood transfixed. We were not mighty spell casters, nor was Harris of the caste of high priests that could occasionally converse with the Goddess. Yet Aurora had called him by name and given him a task. He looked at me with purpose in his eyes and I knew what to do. I darted out of the temple and spotted a sword laying in a pile of supplies. No militia man trained in Rhiassa would willfully set down his blade and I knew that Aurora had subtly influenced his actions. I grabbed the sword before anyone could see and I dove back into the temple to deliver the weapon to Harris.
He barely had time to say a word of parting, so devout was he and so eager to follow the command of his Goddess. He held the sword in front of him, in an unpracticed way, and thrust it to his chest. He fell to the ground instantly, no grimace of pain painted on him, only an expression of fulfillment and joy. I looked to see the severity of the wound but I was amazed when not a drop of blood seeped from it. Instead, the banner that hung over our alter began to shine with its own light, and began to change. The blood that should have poured from Priest Harris' wound instead began to fill the Star of Aurora that sat upon the banner. The red liquid began at the top of the symbol and slowly cascaded down, a few small drops falling from the end of the bottom point.
I reached out and touched the banner. Perhaps I should not have and it was beyond my station, but I was overcome with curiosity. As my finger brushed the edge I felt power well up within me and somehow knew that my ability to resurrect the deceased would be endless as long as I held it. I supressed a small wave of greed to take it with me, surely the Goddess had meant it as a boon to aid the forces of Rhiassa in this great battle. I fell to my knees and uttered a prayer to Aurora, then quietly joined the small caravan making its way to Cold Spring.
What became of the banner I do not know, nor am I sure that it aided the heroes as Aurora intended in their battle. But in honor of Priest Harris' sacrifice, my life path was made more clear. I swore that I would always serve the Goddess in the places that she is needed most, no matter the danger there. It is a small sacrifice compared to that of Priest Harris but it is one I find comfort in. Perhaps one day the Goddess will speak to me in the same way and call upon me to aid her people. Nothing would bring me greater joy.
