Kradir
Reference photo (no eyes, no black deco.)
It matters not how strait the gate,
how charged with punishments the scroll..
The ancient Guardian had been journying through the desert for a few weeks. His once complete cloak was now reduced to brown scraps of cloth that clung to his paper-white skin, making Kradir look like some sort of ghoulish prophet. He had been at a settlement, mending wounds and healing the sick of the tribe that had summoned him. In the old days, almost every desert tribe worshipped the Guardian of Secrets, but that was thousands of years ago. Now there were much fewer tribes, and even fewer still worshipped the Guardians of old. Kradir and his kin were forgotten after a great war that turned this planet into the desert it is today.
Now, Kradir was alone. His kin had fled the planet in search of new civilizations to protect, but he had stayed behind. Kradir was loyal to his home and its inhabitants. As he reached the top of a dune, Kradir spotted the oasis that marked his home. "Alas, I have returned." He said, his voice deep and masculine.
After another hour of walking, Kridir finally reached his home, but it seemed the Guardian had visitors. "Greetings, children. What brings you to my home?" Kradir greeted the two travelers. One of the travelers -- who was swimming in the cool water -- looked like an offworlder with his strange armor and features. The other, a female, appeared to be a native of the desert.
I am the master of my fate,
I am the captain of my soul.