In the whispering reaches of the Outlands, uncharted by the geometrized gaze of cartographers, lies the hamlet of bornstones, a birthplace to one. It's a land where twilight and dawn are indistinguishable, where constellations and nebulae hold a timeless dance. It's here that Sentina Lowrige, fondly known as the Outlander, fell into existence under a moon-soaked sky.

As a child, Sentina is sequestered from peers, girl of solitary days and crystalline nights. Weaving daydreams of dragons and druids, she dances in the constellations' shadows and draws on their wisdom. Her companions, celestial bodies whispering tales in a language only she understands. Their knowledge is her early education, woven into her spirit like cosmic embroidery.

Years whip past like wild hawks in flight, transforming the isolated girl into a mage of profundity, every moment of solitude shaping her to be in and of the world, but never completely part of it. A healer, a protector, a guide; her roles are many, but her purpose one - the seeking and preserving of arcane wisdom.

Her friend - a creature unseen by human eyes. "Rhas," she names him. He is elemental, a familiar made of fragments of her own aura tethered to the intangible spirit of the Outlands. Their bond attracts, repels, and ultimately pulls them into a symbiosis.

Her lone sibling, Dantris, a bond of blood yet a rift of paths. He chooses metal over magic, sword over spellbook. They are two halves of celestial coins spinning in the cosmos's vast expanse, touched by the same starlight yet following divergent trajectories.

Her cry is "Dusk-till-dawn," a mantra radiating with the values she holds close. To understand, to heal, to protect, and above all, to endure. Her morality, a compass guided by the cosmological bodies that raised her.

Once ordinary, Sentina catapults into the extraordinary when a celestial omen brands her as the Cosmos Guardian. This arcane inheritance buries her deeper into the celestial embrace, leaving a lasting imprint upon her heart.

The favored weapon that tips the balance in her favor is not one of iron or bronze but "Luminis," a staff carved from meteorite, humming harps' tune, pulsating with an otherworldly glow. Carrying the weight of stardust and the brilliance of a falling star - it is an extension of her.

The dream etched upon her soul is harmony; equilibrium between the mundane and the mystical, the terrestrial and the celestial. Her regret lies buried within the foundation of this dream - mistranslated words of wisdom, spells gone awry, friendships turned to bane.

She carries no song in her heart but the ballad of the cosmos, a melody composed of the whispering stars. An ancient lullaby known only to those kindred to the night sky.