Nowaru

“As long as there’s air in your lungs and blood flowing through your veins, there’s always something to be gained. The same applies to your place in the world.” The Tilian sat back on the bed. “You know, it’s not hard to guess that I used to be a pirate. I had a great captain, loyal and cheerful friends, and a life full of adventures. But some time ago, Tilian ships, along with ours, clashed in battle with the Theosian fleet, and all the people I had known throughout my life perished. Then I was concussed, and for some time I couldn’t even fight. I was less agile, my reaction was terrible, but the worst thing was that I was left alone. No one would support you, no one to talk to, no one understands your problems. I don’t remember how, but I also ended up in Illinore, and alcohol became my only friend. I didn’t want to live, but I didn’t have the courage to end it all. Fortunately, one wonderful day, an old man picked me up. I resisted for a long time, told him to go away, but he was very persistent, and eventually, I went with him. Later it turned out that he was a true follower of the Yorun goddess Ormhild. Thanks to him and the new faith, I finally managed to get back on my feet. He became like a father to me, and Ormhild like a mother. Thanks to them, I was able to stop existing and return to life. Perhaps that’s why I want to help you somehow, because I know what it’s like, and that in life you can always find a second chance. A third chance. A hundredth chance.”