Erthenia

Following the same road, Antaer got lost. He walked back and forth, but couldn't figure out how to find the house.

The Assarian wandered further and further away from the city, but still couldn't see the familiar house and beautiful courtyard in the distance. "What the hell is going on?" Antaer sat down by the road, took out a stone, and examined it carefully. "What have I done? That damned sorcerer. But it's my own fault. What should I do now?"
The Assarian looked around, took a deep breath of fresh air, and lay down on the grass. As he pondered the events, he suddenly remembered his homeland. He wondered how his brother was doing. What had he achieved, what had he accomplished, was he still alive? The world underground was simple and understandable. Friends were friends, enemies were enemies. But here... in just a couple of years, he had become confused and allowed himself to be deceived, falling for the promise of free knowledge. "Assarians achieve everything on their own..."
Suddenly, Antaer felt a wave of sleepiness wash over him. The elf shook himself and jumped to his feet. No, absolutely nothing had changed.
"What makes me any better than these Kalevrites?" Antaer asked himself unexpectedly. "They believe that willpower protects them, but in reality, they lost all reason long ago when they surrendered to their foolish faith. A creature acting mindlessly poses a threat to innocent people. And to non-humans as well." The Assarian looked at the crimson stone again. The knowledge beckoned him, making him forget caution and danger. What power does it hold? What can it give him? Incredible strength? The opportunity to become the greatest master that Erathia has ever known?
"Assarians achieve everything on their own." The elf repeated to himself, glancing at his partially injured hand. He had long since given up on his dream of becoming a good warrior, and had already forgotten about his own ambitions. But now, at this very moment, he had a chance to regain it all.
"I will not become like the fanatics, I will not allow myself to be deceived by illusions. If my fate is to die at their hands, I must live my life in such a way that I can look back with pride. Assarians achieve everything on their own, through their own strength, through their own labor, independently. And I will achieve it too."
Antaer stood up, grabbed the stone, turned sharply, and threw it as far as he could. -Be damned! he shouted in helpless, seething anger, and walked away, not noticing anything or anyone around him.

I really struggled to choose between the knowledge that tempts elves and the character's personality, his own feelings and emotions. Perhaps I have never encountered such a discrepancy with my characters before. In general, I decided that this would be the right thing to do. Maybe I'm not right. Most likely, I'm not right. But nothing can be done, let it be so.