Tlintilak

"Tlintilak isn't real, you know that, right?"
"Oh, you know that for a fact, do you?"
"No, but how can something be the god of the forgotten?"
"The same way you can be so monumentally dimwitted, you teaspoon."

— Two friends having a spirited debate

The Mistakenly Shunned

Not one to steal memories or erase histories, presiding simply over what is naturally let go, the pieces of life that slip through the cracks of recollection, is the Guideless. He is the one who walks paths long abandoned, treks through where even the echoes of footsteps have long since faded, and gathers what has been cast aside by the busyness of life.
The Guideless, as his name suggests, does not guide. He offers no direction, no clear answers. He is the god of things lost to time, and he is no different. His role is not to show the way but to keep those paths closed. His voice, when it comes, is soft and distant, like a forgotten song carried on a breeze, a sound that stirs a vague familiarity but no clear recollection.

The Mysteriously Fallen

He is not feared, for he is forgotten. His form is elusive, half-seen like a figure glimpsed from the corner of your eye. His clothes plain and fading, his face even plainer. In one hand, he carries a lantern, not to light the way but to show what is no longer there. Its light does not reveal, but blurs, softens, and dims until what you see becomes uncertain.
He tends to lost things with a careful hand, gently guarding what others no longer care to remember. The Guideless leads no one, for his path is to wander, but he listens to the whispers of those who have been left behind, knowing that in forgetting, they are never truly gone.
His fate is the same as that which he looks after, understanding that nothing, not even a god, can hold onto permanence.

Divine Classification

The Guideless, God of the Forgotten