☀️ Arselia and Akonia

— I greet you and thank you for answering my call, Garret. Tell me about your homeland and your place in it, what you lived for there, and what you have been doing since you set foot on the land of the Mother Goddess Anush.

Garret was silent for a while, gathering his memories and accumulated thoughts into a single whole. He could tell a lot, but it was difficult to express it; he was not used to such things.
— My homeland is Aster, a state on the southernmost edge of Vesteria. Its lands were sometimes called the "desert of bones" in everyday life. It's a simple description, but quite accurate – most of the territories are not very suitable for human habitation. And even in settlements, sometimes it's hard to tell whether there are more living or dead people. Intelligent skeletons roam the streets alongside people; they are their best friends and loyal servants. This is the tradition and cultural peculiarity of my homeland: when someone dies, a close person, with the help of blessings and rituals, binds the soul to the remains. The deceased rises as a skeleton, retaining his memory and personality, while gaining the ability to communicate with the one who raised him through a spiritual connection. Recreated in this form, they take on the most difficult and exhausting work for people, helping their loved ones survive in harsh conditions even after their own death. This is an isolated and parochial way of life that is sustained by its piety, in which it is not customary to remember a deity or appeal to it, and yet in the heart of every Asterian lies its nameless shadow. In other regions of the world, our culture was considered specific, but not hostile, and the undead as companions were perceived as nothing more than a personal possession. Although only a few who decide to leave their homeland encounter this.

— And I was one of them... But not as a reckless adventurer, as I wanted to appear, but as a runaway bandit, pursued everywhere for his misdeeds. In my youth, I slipped onto a crooked path, naively believing that I could get away with a couple of "pranks" without getting my hands dirty. It didn't work out. And that was a critical mistake that determined my future life. I became more and more entangled in a web of bandit adventures, which poisoned my soul more and more. And a target was increasingly drawn on my back, which made me suspicious and angry; like a hunted mad dog, I wandered from place to place and could not find peace anywhere. This, in turn, led to further crimes, senseless and heartless. This oppressed me, the constant burden of guilt and fear, when everyone looks like an enemy and ambushes seem to be everywhere, while at the same time understanding that somewhere they really exist. And to cope with the first, I came to the conclusion that conscience is simply not needed. The consequences of such thinking are predictable; I was up to my ears in dirt, and I could no longer get off the path of a villain. Only one person always remained on my side, even in the darkest moments – my younger brother, Harold. We were always together and supported each other in difficult situations, but such a lifestyle is cruel not only to the outside world... In one of the skirmishes, my brother died. It was then that I used the Asterian sacraments, continuing his existence in the form of a skeleton.

— That's when everything finally fell apart... In my ignorance, I thought that I had done a good deed, and I had returned my brother to life, and I had acquired an enhanced version of a loyal friend. But in reality, everything only got worse, and this gradually became more and more noticeable. My brother changed in character... As if he had taken on part of the anger that was raging in my heart at that time. His thoughts became darker and more reckless, sometimes he even began to frighten me. He regularly acted on my nerves, constantly trying to commit atrocities without any regard, and I had to restrain him. I began to feel as if I was leading a mindless demon on a leash, craving mayhem regardless of the consequences. And I didn't realize in time what was happening, underestimating how much his instinct for self-preservation had been dulled. In our last operation, this backfired, and the vengeance that had been chasing us for a long time fell upon hot heads. So, in a blood-soaked dark alley, our story ended ingloriously.
He took a breath and, shaking his head, stared into the distance.
— That was my past life – the life of a vile hyena, prowling in the shadows, waiting for a convenient moment to snatch someone else's piece. It was like a wheel that had come off a cart at full speed and was jumping along by inertia before inevitably tipping over and stopping somewhere on the side of the road. This is a story about how human baseness captures young souls in a vicious cycle of endless sin, grinding them into poisonous dust and spitting them out into oblivion. You can complain as much as you like about the fact that you lacked will or intelligence somewhere, but over time you realize that you yourself made bad decisions and brought yourself to such situations, and then you inevitably reap the consequences. But time runs out before you have a chance to understand what's what.
Having finished this bitter tirade, Garret raises his eyes again, and a glimmer of hope sounds in his voice.
— However, it turned out that death is not the end... Not this time. Being torn out of the vast cosmic void, I found myself in a world unknown to me. Quite alive, and in my usual form, as if nothing had happened before. One could consider this a deathbed delirium, but the skull of my brother in my hands clearly showed that what had been had happened. The unexpected favor of fate gave me a second life, a chance to start over. It took me time to accept the new reality; I was confused and stunned, not understanding what had happened and what to do next. The will of my benefactress directed me to Carneol, and that is how I found my purpose, which I am working on to this day. It is not an easy task; the goals always seem distant and almost unattainable, and yet we are lucky, and sometimes even lucky, providing us with happy keys to get out of difficult situations. The downside of the coin, of course, has not disappeared either; I had to endure traumas and hardships, watch the lifeless, mutilated bodies of allies, see how the memorial board grows with new portraits, wondering if I will be next.

— Having lived to this day, here and now, reflecting on my life, I gradually begin to understand a little more why I ended up here. I don't want to squander my life as badly as I did last time. We've already been through this; I don't want to leave again as a shameful cur crushed by the iron boot of justice while trying to escape. This time, I want to serve higher goals than the pursuit of profit and the preservation of my own skin. I have comrades and a purpose, and, most importantly, I have a benefactress who has done something incredible, and I want to pleasantly surprise her by learning loyalty and gratitude, which I have never known before. Even if I never find out why, out of millions of lost souls, mine was chosen, I still want to prove that this is not just a coincidence or a mistake. For the first time in a long time, I feel a desire to help someone not out of selfish and egoistic motives, not because of kinship or spiritual responsibility, but because I feel that it is right and good. And at the same time, I understand that it may simply be impossible for a person like me to rewrite his fate and make himself something better than before. Therefore, I am here to find out if I am allowed to strive for something in this regard, or whether I am simply destined to disappear before the old story plays itself out for the second time.