As a soul fades, so too does the light it once cast on the world... and so it falls to darkness, without a guide to care for it.
In the bitter, rocky cold of
Vuorenmaa, it is said that the dead do not move on as they should. They do not enter the cycle of souls, and their pathway to final rest is one twisted from what it should be. This is the nation's deepest and eldest of stains, the original blot occurring millennia ago and leaving the land abandoned for centuries. Desperate
Vaeltajat travellers settled there, seeking respite from the bitter winters of the
Kylmävikk Desert but finding harsh rejection in the countries of
Xin-Jiyu. In this bitter, shadowed land, they knew how to persist. And so they did. When their dead lingered, they instead found ways to wield
necromancy for their own benefit, twisting the process of death enough to grant the lost souls the ability to move on.
Over time, the role was formalised, the rites set in stone. Stone towers were built to attract fresh souls, storing them in soul-lanterns that cast blue glows across the rocky landscape. Beacons, if you will, for the Caretakers.
The Caretakers of the Lost Light are those trained in collecting and freeing the souls trapped by their homeland. Faceless beings with little life beyond their duty, they roam the roads of Vuorenmaa in search of wayward souls that have yet to find their lanterns when not carrying those that were already trapped to their final rest. Their duties align with those of the
psychopomps, and many swear allegiance to Pharasma and her psychopomp ushers, despite how their necromantic abilities oft run contrary to her power over death.
O Death, I offer you myself in sacrifice. Allow me to walk betwixt death and life, to bring the lost to light and right this broken river.— oath of the Caretakers
The general public are not aware of the sacrifices and oaths the Caretakers make to gain their eerie powers. This is by design: the Caretakers wish to be seen as trustworthy helpers, and to know what was sacrificed for the sake of others would be to taint that image.
Simply put: the Caretakers sunder their very souls, sending half to the realm of Death and leaving the rest to roam the realm of Life. It is a brutal, painful process that has an unfortunately high mortality rate; many would-be Caretakers are discouraged from making the attempt, and of the few that do try, only a handful are ever able to succeed. Too regularly, the rest are unable to leave only half of themselves in Death and remain there. As their souls are sent straight to the realm of Death to perform the ritual, there is no chance of any would-be Caretaker passing in the ritual and turning into an undead horror to be brought down by the Caretakers; the lost souls simply rejoin the usual flow of souls, and seek their final judgment unfettered.
The ritual is not without its prices, for the splitting of a soul is a horrific deed and
psychopomps would usually come for those who practiced such barbaric acts. The Caretakers are aware of this, and each pays their toll in advance: their soul, once split, is to be rejoined in Death when their time comes to an end, and is to serve in Death's realm until their sentence is paid. How long that sentence may be, none know but the psychopomps - and their gods - themselves.
Caretaker's Lantern by Hanhula (via Midjourney)
Form of Address
Mother/Father/Guardian
Why Mother and Father?
The custom of referring to a specific Caretaker as Mother or Father is an odd one, borne of years of trust.
Local legend holds that it derives from when a village's elder became a Caretaker - one of few to reveal their identity - and retained the titles he held in life, but it is very likely that the title too derives from their connection to life and death, and the comfort they offer Vuorenmaa's inhabitants.
Ooooo, I kind of love them. In a scared kind of way. The mystery surrounding the forging of their lanterns is really interesting. I wonder what the truth is.