[Quatral]

Beyond the sky
Where the night is king
In the bleak, black void
Glows the Gold Ruler
The gilded Mother
Hark, oblivion
Hark, radiant nothing
So vast, cruel, loving
 

The Golden Sun

  

 

Within the vastness of the astral realms, deep beyond the night sky and in the blackest places... lies the golden sun. Where the blinking glow of Leonaus' light hardly shines, that even from the planar realm of Eternia- its distant golden hue is dull and dim... this massive celestial figure still looms, inevitably. Droplets of a fiery golden ether dissipates into the black of the void, remnant of the ancient being which glimmers in the dark. Texts have forgotten its name, volumes left untranslated offer no verification of its history or birth into the universe.
 
It goes by many monikers and nicknames, varied by region and culture, united in a private adoration for the Golden Sun.
 
For the Beast and the Hunter
 
A baleful and primal star hanging in the night sky, its great distance from the material plane of Eternia makes it difficult to make out amidst the twinkling mass which dots the heavens. Yet it still beckons to some, those beings and creatures which exist upon the boundary of wild and civilization. In the liminal tract between deep forest, and the populated glens of Meranthian woodland. As such, it is not uncommon for some huntsmen, woodsmen, and those who make their home in these remote places to find an allure in the golden mother, a warmth provided for the lonesome and hungry. Yet there is no distinction in the light the Golden one offers, for man and beast alike.
 
Only in the prime potential of a mortal soul, can the mother's light truly touch, bend, and shape the spirit of the stars from distant eons.
 
The Lonesome Star
 
For the night watchman, the drifter, and the hedge knight, the motherly warmth of that gilded sun extends its hand even in the bleakest of eventide. Tempered in the frigidity of loneliness and dark evenings spent hunched by fireside, those who stray and wander even when none other walk in their step, might see the Golden Sun twinkle just a mote brighter in their eyes... a beckons, to be sheltered in that primordial fire of aureate excess. Strength of arm and spirit against both foe and the cold of the night.
 

Warbled, the fire sputters

Panted breath

Woe, the world beneath me

But

I am not wholly alone

Mother? I am coming