Radiare

Radiare could count to the hour how long he had spent in this cave. He had dwelt in the quiet gloom for decades, biding his time in wait for the day humanity might forget his gifts and in turn, forget him too. It had been charming, at first, the way the humans had reacted with awe at the power they held upon discovering Radiare's domain. He had been proud to give them something they thought was useful. After the bombs had come to light, Radiare fled in horror at the destruction left in their wake, saddled with a deep and painful guilt that drove him to isolation in a desolate mountain region. He had never wanted to hurt anyone, and while he was still worshipped his power would remain strong. His radioactive aura sapped the life of anyone who lingered near him too long, and so he tried to keep his distance in the hopes one day he would be forgotten and weak once again. Alas, his kind heart pushed him to intervene in the rare moments he found himself away from the cave and among humans who needed aid. People would arrive at the cave to worship in the aftermath, groups of twos or threes at a time, and Radiare would weep in his broken solitude: "Go, please, I'll drain the precious life from you. You must leave and put me from your mind." Rarely did anyone relent, and thus he began to leave the cave less and less often, an ache in his heart as he peered from the gloomy depths to the few worshippers that would arrive outside, watching them growing slowly sicker and dying over time.