Freedom
Freedom is something that Sanctuary doesn't have.
Its people believe otherwise. They know otherwise, given the scope of their ignorance. Angels and demons, Heaven and Hell…mere folktales, many of them stemming from the "madmen" that witnessed the price of the Great Conflict for themselves over a decade ago. New Tristram, the site where it arguably all began…even here, the slaughter is forgotten. The cathedral looted, the only place of entertainment the tavern I find myself in…a place of freedom.
Like them, I am not free. But unlike them, I know it.
I glance at the men and women around me, none meeting my gaze. No-one seeks the advice of a man living past his time. None are willing to stay awhile and listen. I may as well be as non-existent to them as the Horadrim from which I stem. Even with myself and Leah being the last of the order designed to make Man free from the Prime Evils, we already do not exist in the eyes of the people the adventurers set out to serve. No-one knows or cares about the name of Deckard Cain.
It is hard not to be crushed under the weight of that name, such weight having been steadily added to since the days of Jered. What would he think now, I wonder, if he was aware that the binding of the Three had been their plan all along? What would he think that his descendent had prevented their plan from coming to fruition? What would he think if he knew that few people cared about such events, or were even aware that they happened?
I do not know. But wherever he is, he is free.
And bound to the mortal plane, both aware and unaware of the intentions of the planes above and below, we are not.
