Tsadi Will Protect

Under the Soldier's Shield

I remember when my land was known simply as Dusk. When I was Tsadi, the warrior.

Now, it is the Golden Wasteland. And I am its Elder.

I don't know how long I lay dormant, sleeping in the starlight. But I do know that I awoke with great energy. I felt my light flare within me, spurring this old soldier into action at the call of a horn.

I leaped from my place, landed with a crash, and made a mighty display of my power wielding spear and shield.

But then I fell. It had been so long. My body, my flame, my weapons, they weren't the same.

As I knelt weakly on the stone floor of my temple, I wondered what woke me. What light had roused me? What horn had spurred me?

I heard that soft horn again and looked to my right, past my fallen spear. I will admit I was surprised. The horn was not a horn, but a voice. A little honking voice from a fragile figure draped in brown and holding a flame.

A child. What in Resh's name was a child doing in my temple?

The child approached my spear and knelt beside it, lowering their offered flame into the blade of my weapon.

It shimmered with its old glory. I grasped it and my flame was ignited brighter than before.

I stood. I stumbled. The child looked as if they would try to catch me. Blessed little thing.

I found my strength and lifted my spear toward the clouded sky above, sending my gifted light to the heavens.

My old friends gathered around this light. Their stars assembled in a constellation. They said the child had led them back to me. In return, they had shown the child their memories and taught the fragile being how to better express themself.

I couldn't find my voice to reply. My old friends and loyal soldiers, this foolish Elder's confidants and citizens, had I known you remained here trapped in stony husks, I would never have slept in starlight for so very long. Forgive me. Forgive this old soldier. Forgive your foolish Elder.

The child was still here. Their little honking voice called on my friends. They offered candles in exchange for a lesson or item. They gave each of my friends a candle or two.

I stood by, up in the depths of my temple and out of sight as I pondered the child.

A child in my Wastelands. A child in my temple. A child who had woken me up with their burning light and honking voice. Who guided my friends to the safety of my temple. Who seemed drawn ever onward by some unseen force.

As the doors opened to the Vault, the child stood at my altar and looked around. Were they looking for me?

I remained hidden. I had done all I needed.

The child gave a flap of their brown cape and soared down the vast halls of the Vault.

The door closed behind them.

I was alone in my temple.

My temple. How despondent it looked! Holes in its ceiling and sand on its floor. Dark water pooled at low spots in the sand. Pillars were askew and the wind groaned against the sealed doors on the walls.

I walked about my temple as if seeing it for the first time. Such disrepair. Such neglect. Such... age.

Only then did I remember to wonder how long I had slept? How long had it been since I had limped bleeding down this corridor? How long since the Vault had sealed me away? How long since I had beaten dents on those doors, begging whoever could hear to please let my people take refuge?