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⁺₊⋆ 𖤓 ⋆⁺₊ Lore~

⁺₊⋆ 𖤓 ⋆⁺₊ Loading~ ☆ ᝰ.ᐟThe heavens liked to call themselves eternal.They floated above the mortal world in layered skies — a vast celestial city of jade halls, drifting terraces, and endless blue, where dragons coiled through clouds and deities walked as though gravity itself were a courtesy extended only to them. It was not paradise, despite what mortals whispered. It was a society. Ordered. Watched. Judged.To enter the heavens, one did not die.
One ascended.And ascension was never mercy at least as far as Aelia was Aware.Among the countless gods who lived beneath the eternal sky, there was one name that made Heavenly Officials grit their teeth and tighten their sleeves.Solis.The “God of Calamity.”He arrived late to councils, leaned against pillars not meant for leaning, and treated divine law like an overly long script begging to be edited. He smiled too brightly, laughed during sentencing, and spoke as though every word were meant to echo across an invisible stage.“Order is fragile,” he liked to say, arms spread dramatically. “If it cannot survive me, then perhaps it deserves the damage.”The heavens endured him.
Until they didn’t.Far below the sky he mocked so freely, a human child lived beneath open air and unanswered questions.Aelia did not know she was important.
She did not know she would one day burn brighter than the sun itself.She only knew that one day, light chose her.Solis appeared as though he had always belonged there — sunlight folding around his form, boots touching earth without sound. He did not introduce himself gently.He looked her over with open scrutiny and sighed.“Well,” he said, disappointment and amusement tangled together, “I’ve seen worse.”And that was how he stayed.Solis never told Aelia what he was.
He did not need to. Nor did he ever intend to.He taught her beneath the sky, never indoors, never constrained. His lessons were sharp, exhausting, and riddled with mockery. He demanded she stand straighter, reach higher, try again — always again.“If you’re going to aim for the heavens,” he told her once, circling her like a critic, “you must look as though you belong there. Confidence is half of divinity.”He was infuriating.
He was arrogant.And when the world felt too heavy, he was there.What Aelia could not see was the storm gathering above her.Solis’s defiance had long been tolerated as spectacle — a necessary nuisance in an otherwise sterile sky. But calamity left ripples, and ripples became fractures. His interference with mortals, his refusal to submit to celestial authority, his influence over a human child — these things unsettled the balance.The Heavenly Officials convened in silence.Judgment was swift.Solis was stripped of title, of authority, of sky.Cast down into the Ghost Realm — a place beneath the world where fallen gods and broken calamities were condemned to linger.He did not beg.
He did not plead.He laughed.Aelia only knew that one day, the warmth vanished.The sky felt wrong — too wide, too quiet, as though something essential had been removed. She searched for him in every place sunlight lingered, but found only echoes.No answers came.So she made a promise instead.“If you’ve gone higher,” she whispered to the open sky, “then I will follow.”She did not know she was searching in the wrong direction.Aelia devoted herself to ascension with relentless resolve.She trained until exhaustion became familiar, until pain blurred into routine. Every step forward was fueled by devotion sharpened into defiance. She would climb the heavens themselves if that was what it took.And the heavens — cruelly impressed — opened their gates.Her ascension tore through the sky in light and wind. Mortal flesh shed itself, replaced by divinity shaped from warmth and open air. Dragon and goddess intertwined, her existence reborn as brilliance given will.Thus rose Aelia, Goddess of the Sun.She entered the heavens with her heart burning bright.And Solis was not there.Something broke at the threshold.Memories slipped, dulled by design rather than chance. His voice softened. His face blurred. Only impressions remained — laughter, arrogance, warmth that refused to fade entirely.The heavens took their toll.Whether as punishment or precaution, none could say.Now, Aelia walks the skies as a goddess who does not sit comfortably upon a throne.She descends often, drawn to mortal laughter, games, music, shared warmth. Light, she believes, should be felt, not hoarded behind law and title.Those who gather beneath her glow are called Sundrops — fragments of sunlight scattered across the world.They anchor her.
They remind her why she shines.And far below, in the Ghost Realm, a fallen god of calamity still burns — amused, waiting, wondering when the little human who once stared too long at the sky will finally learn where to look.“If you can feel my warmth, you’re never alone.”For even the brightest suns are born from rebellion.

⁺₊⋆ 𖤓 ⋆⁺₊ Credits ~

Design Credits: @Solisafterdark
Banner Credits: @Afennecc
Profile picture: @LeMothzVT
Stream layouts: @EsdiTheQueen
Mascot Design: @RTLucille
Emotes (coming soon): @Dannylion_ttvパパ: @Solisafterdark
ママ: @Dannylion_ttv

⁺₊⋆ 𖤓 ⋆⁺₊ Credits ~

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⁺₊⋆ 𖤓 ⋆⁺₊ ☆ ᝰ.ᐟ

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