The Light

The primary force of good on Auberean. Worshiped by the Light Falatacot, the Adjanites, and the Northern Church, the main religion of the Yalain. The Light created the Deru Trees. Gromnatross are also connected to the Light.

Stormwaltz on the Gods
The following is an excerpt from an interview with Chris "Stormwaltz" L'Etoile conducted by Crossroads of Dereth:

 As for the gods, I have a somewhat different view on what it means to be a one. The prevailing belief that gods must appear in humanoid form, or that they must be even remotely comprehensible, strikes me as a particularly silly human conceit. Gods are by definition beyond human experience, so why do so many fantasy pantheons (D&D and EQ, for example) paint the gods as Olympian or Norse "humans writ large?" No, I believe that a god is a verb. A god is something that is not necessarily intelligent or conscious, but effects change in the universe merely by its presence. That is their nature; gods don't choose to make things happen, things happen because they exist. And don't bother trying to comprehend their means and motives; an amoeba has as much ability to comprehend humans. The Nameless God of the Shadows and the Empyrean Light Gods embody this principle. They're described about as well as they can be in "Brink of the Abyss." Asheron's light bolt spell - that's a small bit of what it's like to be near a Light God. Evaen's vision in portalspace is a little taste of what the Nameless is. I've often described the thing the Shadows serve as "a virus with the power of god," and as "that moment you bolt up from a nightmare, but aren't fully awake yet."

The following is the portion from The Brink of the Abyss mentioned by Chris L'Etoile:  I stood up. He was over six feet tall, wraith-slender, and golden-eyed. His gaze locked on to the grotesque Spire, and he began, almost subliminally, to make arcane gestures with both hands. I watched him, puzzled. Where was his. . .? “Zojak Quaau!” he cried suddenly, throwing his empty hands to the roiling heavens. The passage of moments slowed. They dripped by. A glacier melting. Drop. By drop. Clear water. I saw everything. White light, dazzling as the sun off Luparvium snow, flooded my view. Warmth coursed over me in torrents, raising all the hair on my arms and head. A star, a sphere of pure light, spun and flared between the white mage's fingertips. It launched itself from his outstretched hands, bowing his body with the strain of casting. Delicate coronal wisps trailed from it, like gauze or a spider's web, as it passed over our heads. Slowly, it seemed, it rolled up towards the Spire, leaving a subtle rainbow across the night air to mark its passage. Although she was behind me, I could sense Kei as a radiant impression of curiosity and wonder, as a warmth upon my back. Celdiseth, at my side, was a dark, mighty knot of worry, fluttering like a proud old hawk with a broken wing. I could smell the small flowers crushed beneath my feet, and hear tiny insects frantically digging themselves deeper underground. I could see every leaf on every tree along the shore as they showed their pale undersides in the wind. I saw a miniscule hole in the bark of a sapling on the shore, and knew that it was the abode of a small worm, hibernating until it could be reborn as a tiny winged insect that would live but one day. I could have wept for its tragedy. This is not our magic. Our magic doesn't do this. It was as if I'd spent my life half asleep, and had only now fully awoken. The star reached up to disperse the darkness looming over Cragstone. It illuminated every fissure and patch of wetness on the Spire's rubbery hide. It brushed the roughly weathered knobs of bone; it filled the empty eye sockets with radiance. The thing's pulsing heart recoiled from its approach. The light blistered the shore, turned water to cloud, and went out. Waves of roaring lanced my ears, gathering in strength, each mightier than the last. In the depths of the noise, I heard for a moment a multitude of voices crying in release, and above them all a single ringing note, as from a bell of pure silver resounding endlessly. My hearing gave out before the noise did, and I was plunged into silence.