A young tiefling, wandering the alleys of city after nameless city. She could never stay long if she hoped to not overstay what little welcome was offered to her kind. Home was as far a concept to Astraea as parents, neither of which she could conjure memories of save for a vague feeling lost in the depths of her battered soul.

Fate changed its course one day, but in what direction Astraea couldn’t tell. All she could do was keep running, forcing herself through the pain in her chest. At this point, she didn’t care about the food, but the angry vendor must have felt otherwise. He’d already chased her through a maze of backalleys that tore through her bare feet and threatened to topple her to the ground with every sharp corner. Astraea was filled with hope when she made one last turn, and there it was. Daylight, streets, and a crowd to get lost in. And for a second she thought that she had noticed the man start to slow. This was it!

Dashing, almost lunging, she ducked her way into the crowd. A dagger flew through the air, close enough to feel on her skin. But it would not find the target it was meant for. Astraea stood in shock, all of her previous momentum rooting her at the spot. The dagger had sheathed itself inside the chest of the mayor, a man who was now collapsing towards her. Astraea cried out to the gods, how could this have happened? It was supposed to be her, but she could already hear guards rushing closer and now they would both die.

Hot tears burst from her eyes, and she looked down at the man she was holding. A man she had never met, but killed nonetheless. The clanking of armor was upon her now, and Astraea braced herself for the worst. But as she did, everything stilled. Her vision filled with golden light that grew brighter and brighter until it was all around her, and when it vanished, so too did the wound. And that was the day Astraea Astheneia performed her first miracle.

“I have seen the very worst this world has to offer, and that is why I choose to be the good.”