Lightlocke

"He will return... he must." -Camille, Lightblessed There are regions within Tya where magic and mystery intertwine, and the wonderments of the arcane flow like rivers through strange lands made stranger by their presence. And there are shadows, as well… shadows which slither between beams of sunlight and stake their claims where they may. High Archpriest Lightlocke knows them well. Renowned for his unparalleled mastery over the arcane arts, Lightlocke drew the awe of all who witnessed his spellcasting. Particularly skilled in healing, he was highly sought after to seal wounds and quell afflictions. Eventually, he founded a school of restoration magic. Under his tutelage there flourished a young and promising apprentice, Camille. Guided by virtue and a thirst for healing knowledge, Camille aspired to walk in her mentor's footsteps. With Lightlocke's guidance, she felt as though there was no ailment known or otherwise that she could not cure. But as time advanced and her studies intensified, whispers from the corners of the arcane community of Lightlocke's involvement in dark matters reached Camille's ears. He would sequester in his chambers for days on end, emerging aloof and irritable. It troubled Camille deeply to see her mentor in such a state. One silent night, Camille sensed a bone-chilling disturbance. Stealing down the hall toward Lightlocke's chambers, she cried out reflexively upon seeing a dark figure standing over his bed, poised to strike. The distraction saved Lightlocke's life. Lightlocke awoke and cast a violent spell which smote the would-be assassin instantly, rendering his body a disorderly pile of flesh, bone, and smoldering rags. "They've come for me, child," said the Archpriest to his young apprentice, who stammered wide-eyed for answers. With a calming hand on her shoulder, he bade Camille to sit. Gravely, Lightlocke explained to Camille that he'd discovered a channel of magic that would change the world forever. Sinister forces had gotten wind of his endeavors, and were now seeking to end him. Camille and the rest of his students would never be safe as long as he remained. Despite Camille's protests, Lightlocke rose from his chair and began casting a spell. "Trust no one, my dear. Not even those of our kind. Before long I will return with answers. I swear it." Tearing a passage through the very fibers of time, Lightlocke disappeared from sight, leaving Camille breathless and aggrieved in his void.