Flow like lightning. Strike like thunder.
No one remembers who the first Arcstrider was. Hardly anyone remembers the Arcstrider at all. Time vanished us like it does memories.
But in the darkest days of the Dark Ages, when humanity was utterly defenseless, Arcstriders disciplined their bodies to let the Traveler's energy flow through them, to call lightning itself to hand and wield it like a staff against the Darkness.
Become the Lightning, they said.
No.
Become the staff, they said.
No.
Become a weapon, they said.
We obliged.