Corsha Melitaear

Corsha Melitaear, renowned as one of the great heroes who vanquished the darkness consuming the land, now roams those same territories to ensure that evil’s remnants are thoroughly eradicated. With her fellow heroes occupied with rebuilding efforts, Corsha has taken it upon herself to hunt down the last vestiges of malevolence, moving from place to place with the singular goal of cleansing any remaining threats.

“Geez, how long has it been now?” Corsha muttered, frustration evident in her voice. “It’s been at least a week since I’ve had any real action. Maybe word’s getting around that the great mage is out for blood.” She snickered to herself, sipping her mead in a tavern where she had stopped for a brief respite. Though it was clear she was bored, the chance to sit down and unwind was a welcome break from her relentless search.

As she overheard two patrons discussing a recent tragedy, her attention piqued. “Did you hear about what happened in Lightwood? In just one night, the village was left in ruins. It’s sickening how this is still happening.”

“No way… It’s not that far from here. Do you think—”

Corsha listened intently, her curiosity turning into urgency. She quickly finished her drink and approached the patrons, feigning casual interest as she asked which roads to avoid near Lightwood. After gathering enough information, she left the tavern, her hand tightening around her staff as she rushed toward the village.

As she traveled, Corsha chastised herself for taking a break. “Stupid, stupid. Get it together, Corsha,” she muttered, her frustration mounting. When she arrived at Lightwood, her heart sank. The village was a mere shadow of what it might have been—dilapidated buildings lay in ruin, a stark contrast to the bustling community it once was.

Navigating through the wreckage, Corsha searched for clues. Her heart grew colder when she stumbled upon a child standing over what could only be the bodies of their parents. The sight hit Corsha deeply, triggering memories of her own past.

Cautiously approaching the child, Corsha placed a gentle hand on their head. “You shouldn’t have had to witness this, especially at such a young age. I can at least do this for them.” With her staff in hand, she commanded the earth to cover the bodies with a layer of dirt and offered a small prayer.

Examining the child more closely, Corsha noticed their frail body and lifeless eyes, as though the trauma had drained them of their spirit. “I’m not the best at this,” Corsha admitted softly, “but you’re not alone anymore. It’s okay.” Dropping to her knees to be at eye level, she embraced the child, urging them to let their emotions flow.

The child cried uncontrollably, their tears and sobs pouring out as Corsha held them tightly. She remained with them, offering a comforting presence and silently mourning the loss alongside them until the child had no more tears left to shed.