The rise and fall of Ty'Loren

In the Spire of Antana, amongst its thousand steps, a man slowly ascended towards the Pillars of Antana, the central meeting point of those loyal to the goddess of Life. He was a man who had seen better days. His face was covered by a long, draping hood, and of the parts of his body visible, he was covered in scars notably from battles of his earlier days. As the man made his final step to the top, an Antanan Priest appeared before him.
'Please, sire. Approach the Pillars of Antana and behold her wisdom and power. Let her grant you long life and may her blessing be upon you.'
The man bowed his head in acknowledgement of the priest and began towards the Pillars.
'I am old,' he began.
'I have seen much. Some would agree too much. I was there the day Ty'Loren became. I was there through the ages that followed. I am still here now, and I feel it is about time someone knew how it all began.'
He had made his way to the Statue of the Goddess Antana by this stage and had begun speaking to her.
A Priest made his way over to the man.
'Would you like to make a donation to the Spire of Antana, sire?'
The man turned towards the priest.
'All I would like right now is for someone to hear my tale. Perhaps after I will make a donation to our Goddess.'
'As you wish, sire.' Replied the priest, and he turned away.
The man turned his attention back to the Statue of Antana, and continued.
'My story begins, well at the begining. Right at the beginning. The day Ty'Loren Became. The day life became.'