Cyrus of Kaelthia
Writings and sermons
Extract from the writings of Cyrus, Herald of the Burning Sun, Founder of the Breath of the Sun. Listen and hear, all ye who walk in darkness and pine for the light. Hear the tale of one who was like you; one who was lifted up by the matchless power of the Sun. Hear the words of salvation!
For behold, I say unto you, I was in the shadow of darkness until the 8th day of the 11th month of the year called 196 AC. Having left my home in Kaelthia many years before, being exiled for my sins, I wandered until I came to the land where dragons walked on two legs. Being handy with a spear and sword and mighty in stature from my youth, I joined the army and did battle against the fell beasts and ice goblins of the Hungering Frost.
On the day aforementioned, I was with a patrol in the mountains above Lyodnoir. We had been fighting a slow retreat against a horde of goblins and wargs that had slipped past the neck of the pass and were threatening to raid the heartland. Outnumbered by the beasts and overpowered by the foul creations of their leader, a dread necromancer. For every one we slew, another rose to take its place. Central among these monstrosities was the corspe of an ogre, given new blasphemous life by that fiend. Our priest had been slain early on, so we had no weapons that could put down such a beast. No matter how much we struck it, it would not fall. As the 6th hour began, there were only a few of us left standing, all with wounds. The goblins were scattered for the most part and we had, with the grace of the Sun, managed to slay the necromancer. But the not-dead still remained. And so we prayed, in the dawn light. Prayed for salvation, prayed for strength, prayed for the Sun's light to wipe away evil.
And then He appeared. The Angel of the Sun, with wings of glory and eyes like fire. "Thy prayers have reached the Heavens and have been heard by the Burning Sun," he said. "Take this blessed hammer and use its power to lay these a'cursed souls to rest once more. And remember, thy sins are forgiven thee and thou art chosen to be the Messenger, and stand upon Holy Ground." With that, He entrusted me with his hammer, emblazoned with holy writing and glowing with holy power and vanished back to Realms Celestial.
Armed with faith and with blessed steel, we did as the angel commanded and smote the not-dead, their corruption evaporating as the morning mists before the face of the Burning Sun. And we, the few survivors, vowed that we would raise the banner of the Sun in that place and build a temple there, a temple to the Dawn.
