Cardiel

All beings in Teleria are the result of Lumaya and Siroth’s Dances of Creation, and so have within them both light and darkness. For the immortal Lightbringers and Demons – the Firstborn — this is no longer so. To have the darkness torn from one is a pain of such exquisite intensity that few Lightbringers allow themselves to recall it. Better, instead, to look to the light and forget that the darkness ever existed within them at all. But some cannot – will not – forget so easily. To forget the darkness is to lose oneself entirely in the light, to become as a statue; unchanging for the eternities to come. Or so the Lightbringer known as Cardiel believes. For him, the memory of the time before the Dance of Uncreation that banished the Lightbringers to the Halls of Eternity and ripped their darkness from them is akin to a wound that will not heal. Where other Lightbringers are content with the serenity of perfection, to be unchanging and fixed in both thought and appearance, Cardiel holds fast to himself – to the warrior he was, in the dim days of the Primordial Age. In the time before the schism that set the Firstborn at each other’s throats. In those days, he had been a wanderer; an adventurous soul whose pleasure was in exploration of the world. During this time, he watched the mortal races spread across Teleria, taking what they had been given and changing it to suit their needs. Intrigued, he studied them, learning all he could. Nor was Cardiel the only one to become interested in the doings of the mortals. He soon found a companion in his studies, a fellow Firstborn named Sicia. The two immortals wandered Teleria together, and as the days turned into months and years, their friendship blossomed into something more — something that neither Cardiel nor Sicia truly understood. Cardiel found that she made him feel whole; as if she were a part of him that he had all but forgotten until the moment of their meeting. Her sadness made him ache, and her smile made his heart sing. At first, he was too bewildered to ask if she felt the same. When he finally mustered the courage, he was overjoyed to find that she too felt this strange connection. But before they could explore these new feelings, Siroth betrayed Lumaya. Horrified by Siroth’s actions, Cardiel swore himself to Lumaya’s service, but Sicia disagreed, believing that Siroth was right and that Lumaya was simply too stubborn to see it. They argued bitterly in the days that followed, each trying to convince the other that they had chosen the wrong path. Neither would be budged. Soon, unable to stay together, they went their separate ways. Despite this, they could not deny their bond. They avoided each other where they could, and when forced by circumstance to take to the same field of battle, they refused to fight against each other — a fact which often aroused the ire of their allies. But they remained true to one another and the affections that had blossomed between them. For Cardiel, Sicia’s absence only made his feelings for her grow stronger. He began to seek her out, hoping to convince her of the rightness of Lumaya’s cause. Though these conversations grew heated, their love never dimmed. Neither would so much as raise a blade against the other, and soon their peers knew better than to expect it. Even the Dance of Uncreation and the banishment of the Firstborn from Teleria could not entirely sever this bond. Despite being purged of his own inner darkness, and transformed into something glittering and graceful, Cardiel still ached for Sicia. He resigned himself to an eternity of stoic isolation in the Halls of Eternity, his only consolation the knowledge that his beloved Sicia was safely doing the same in shadowy Anathraad. Siroth’s followers had been banished there, their light ripped from them. They became Demons. Then came the Age of Hellfire, and Siroth’s assault on Teleria. Cardiel and other Lightbringers were roused to war by the Arbiter, given means to enter the world both dark and desperate. When the time came to take the battle to Siroth’s forces, he stood at the forefront, unfazed by the sacrifice of so many mortals to bring him and his kind to the war. It was during one such battle that he took note of one Demonspawn — something about it seemed unsettlingly familiar. He fought his way towards the creature, compelled to confront it by some unidentifiable instinct. He roared out a challenge. The Demonspawn turned. Their eyes locked across the battlefield. And he knew. As did she. Banished, changed, they yet knew one another, and their souls called out even as the clarion to war sounded once more…