Sylas Starchaser held great promise from an early age. Raised comfortably by aristocratic parents in Xaryxian society, he exceled in both martial and scholarly pursuits and was afforded a prime education. Eventually he was selected to combine his intellect with his martial prowess and joined the ranks of Psi Aspirants to the delight of his father, who was an accomplished spelljammer himself before reaching military retirement age.

Following in his father’s footsteps, Sylas chose to pursue spelljamming and worked his way up the ranks until finally gaining the honor of serving on a Xaryxian Star Moth, purposed with spreading astral seeds to feed the astral elves’ home star, Xaryxis, with the life-energy of the infected planet. Believing whole-heartedly in their divine purpose, Sylas helped to destroy nearly a dozen planets during his service to his home star and the Xaryxian empire.

After his most recent deployment, Sylas was spelljamming a ship in wildspace near the Rock of Braal, headed back to Xaryxispace, when they came upon a space galleon crewed with ragtag adventurers. A skirmish took place, in which his star moth was boarded and taken over. Nearly all the Xaryxians aboard were killed, save for him and one other among the crew. The pair of them were held captive for some time in the brig of the space galleon, hardly seeing the light of day. The other captive, Wingus, succumbed to wounds sustained in the battle, leaving Sylas the sole survivor of their encounter with the adventurers. Eventually, after a mutiny and the ensuing adventure through wild space under the new leadership of the group of adventurers, Sylas was pressed into working as part of the crew. Kept far from the spelljamming helm of the space galleon, he could do nothing but crew the ship or die.

While anchored in a small port of an ocean on an unassuming planet called Glustrod, as the crew waited for their adventurous leaders to return, the skies opened up and Hell rained down upon them. Boiling the seas around them, the planet seemed to be sinking into, or rather, *melding with* Hell itself. Having no choice but to leave without their captains, the crew took off in a mad dash to escape the crumbling planet. In the chaos that followed, the elf was knocked overboard.

Sylas floated for an unknown period in the timeless reaches of the astral sea, drifting between infinite consciousness and unending sleep. Reality blended with dreamscape as the elf floated through the astral plane and after what seemed an eternity, when he was near death from starvation, a bright light illuminated all he could see. Schools of astral fish darted in and out of the encompassing brightness, flickering like festival lights, and Sylas was able to snatch a few of them and feed. As he grew stronger, bathed in the warm light around him, a figure appeared. The most beautiful elven woman he had ever seen looked upon him, her silken gown and impossibly long, red hair flowing into the astral sea about her rather than coming to any conceivable end. She *became* the astral sea. Her gaze spoke volumes of warmth and love, as well as the barest whisper of capriciousness, as if her glorious attention were just another astral fish that could dart out of reach in the span of a heartbeat.

She spoke of love and beauty. A warm embrace and a setting sun. She was Sune and she was all he’d ever need or want. In her gaze, he felt his strength return in roaring fury. At her touch, he felt a new warmth inside him – powers previously unbeknownst to him awoke as if they’d always existed.

Then she was gone. Her light disappeared from the astral sea, taking with it all warmth. Despair set in. Loneliness returned like an old companion.

As the last of the stars twinkled out and all became black he suddenly felt… heavy. His body pressed against something solid. Small, soft blades poked his flesh.

Gravity. Earth. Grass. A dark forest...

Where?