The pull to Santos that Ruger had imposed on Taran had been a nuisanance and complication that interferred with his plans of revenge. Now it was gone. Not the revenge, but the spell that bound him to The Lightbearer. The Archishop Ruger was not on Taran’s “list”, but he wasn’t far removed from it. During his recent adventures with his companions, some of whom were no longer with them, Taran had seen things in Majeria that could hardly be explained by a young warrior from the east. Things of both a dark and light nature. Santos, his prodigy, and others from his church had clearly demonstrated great power that could be harnessed and used. In the wrong hands or mind, these powers could clearly cause devastation to innocents. The same could be said for The Dark powers, no doubt. Taran’s belief in god’s belonged to nature and the world around him, albeit a magical one, not to some church’s doctrine. He was gone. He knew it. The darkness closed in around him and he slipped away. Taran’s breath returned to him and the dark pit which engulfed him was pushed aside by new light. Opening his eyes, The Cleric stood above him. Taran was weak, in pain but alive. Helped to his feet by his companions he felt a presence surge through him that was foreign. Clearly Santos had a connection to something he did not understand but now he had not only seen The Cleric wield it on a battlfield but had been saved fully by his power. Perhaps there was more to Santos’ words and mission than any in the group first believed. Standing there feeling his lifeforce returned to him the thoughts of honor, revenge, light, dark, The Divine Augmentor, Ruger, The Council, Tarbald, The Ranger, The Dragons, Master Ovsun and Tallara all raced across his mind and flushed his face with a deep red and a new sense of vigor.