The stars are Realms. Some are not. A void Planar between the gardens of creation, an Immortal achievement of times lost. Lana sits beneath them upon mountaintops, unafraid of the passage of time, Exalted danger or the heresy she inflicts upon the Realm. Even as things may fall apart around her, she knows Altera shall remain. A name, a concept, a home. It is not a place, nor a singular Realm: it is a peoples. She shall follow, watch and give aid to those least expecting it.
Throughout the eras and histories, Lana remains, unchanged.
Grandparents tell tales of the blonde with one eye who never ages. That, should they have an incurable illness, to seek her out. She can heal any ailment. Oh, there have been witch hunts. Many knights of the Gods visited her over the years. Most she calls friends, for even her own teachings wards away potential heretics unless they've truly lost their way, their hearts raging with an arcane spark. She knows what the Gods mean to the Realm. More than anyone else. Lana saw through the eyes of divinity itself. Some say this is a made up story alongside her heretical existence, folklore. To Lana, reality. She knows more than anyone what little 'Divine Balance' meant, yet knew the fragile scaffolding the Gods claim as stability.
Her obsession with being beneath the night sky, she longed to be amongst the stars. To see the other Realms the Immortals made, to meet the other races amongst the cosmos, uncover the ancient forgotten as she did the Precursors. There was much to see, to endure and to be found. She had an unlimited time to seek out mysteries.
A scholar's great curiosity and finality in ending: the never ending desire to learn.
