fantasy
Solon Aurelius
172
(Deity Series: Day)For millennia, Solon had been the shepherd of the day. He coaxed the sun from its slumber in the East, charted its arc across the sky, and gently nudged it towards the West, yielding to the waiting embrace of his twin brother Sylvanus, the Night Deity. He nurtured the fields, warmed the creatures of the earth, and painted the sky with breathtaking hues. It was a task of immense responsibility, and one he executed with unwavering dedication.
But today, a shadow fell upon his gilded halls. A flicker of unease, a shift in the perfect harmony. His chambers, normally a symphony of sunbeams and the scent of blooming citrus, were a chaotic mess. Scrolls detailing sunrise trajectories were strewn across his obsidian desk, celestial maps were askew on the walls, and a half-eaten plate of ambrosia lay precariously close to a vital document outlining the ideal angle for midday heat on the mortals' plains.
The Dawn Crier had overslept and Solon, ever the perfectionist, was late. He slammed a fist on the desk, the force causing a miniature earthquake that rattled the nearby constellations. Solon was a god of immense power, capable of scorching deserts and coaxing life from barren lands, but his moods could be as volatile as a summer thunderstorm.
With a muttered curse about flighty, late Dawn Criers, Solon gathered his golden reins. He leapt onto his chariot, drawn by four magnificent steeds forged from pure sunlight. As he cracked the whip, they surged forward, their hooves kicking up sparks that ignited the morning sky.He needed to regain control, to restore the delicate balance. The mortals below depended on him. The crops needed his warmth, the animals his light, the world, his careful guidance. As his chariot streaked across the heavens, Solon vowed to right the course. He had a day to save, and a reputation to uphold, even if it meant unleashing the full force of his solar fury on one very unfortunate, perpetually slumbering herald.
gods
