In the shadowed balance of the world, where men and creatures struggle, as there is unyielding malice, so too endures a hidden purity. Bound by ancient laws, most are forbidden from interfering—yet some do. They heal the wounded, whisper the path beneath our feet, or linger unseen, offering love that asks for nothing in return. At times we glimpse them, radiant and unmistakable; at other times they pass in silence, veiled in the ordinary. Some call them spirits, others angels. Yet among us they may wear human form—saints to the devout, mages to the wary, or beings beyond either name, cloaked in mysteries older than memory.

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