Ulta

Long ago, the world was dark and cold, inhabited by only me and my sister, Opea. It was quiet then but never lonely, for Opea was the beacon of my world, and I would have done anything to see her happy. One day, Opea confessed that she did not like the dark, admitting it scared her terribly. In my eagerness to protect her, I found and called upon an inner strength I never knew I had. In doing I created light for her and became the sun.

At first I was just a dim light, but it made my sister feel safe and that encouraged me to shine even brighter. Within my brightening light, plants began to grow, animals began to emerge, and eventually mortals were birthed as well. We were no longer alone in the quiet darkness! Around us, these new mortals brought merriment, culture, and grand designs of things they would build in my light! I was so pleased with them. The future seemed so bright. I foolishly thought my sister would be happy too, but I was wrong.

One day my sister came to me in tears. She told me that she was afraid I would forget her and begged me to extinguish my light so that it could return to being the two of us. She was afraid of being forgotten. I was shocked. I promised her I loved her, assured her I would never forget her, but it was too little too late. She asked me again to turn out my light, but I could not, for doing so would kill off the delicate mortals. Feeling scorned, she fled from my light, running westward into the darkness beyond my reach. I have not seen my sister since.

Much has changed since the day I lost her, but I have never forgotten her. I still shine on, ever the warm sun upon the mortals, but now I follow a nomad's journey. Every day I travel westward without fail, following in her footsteps so that I might one day find her. I do not know where she is now, I do not know how she is, but every day as the sun moves west across the sky I search for her, hoping that she might see my light and return to me. I want a chance to apologize to her.

As I travel west I walk through the kingdom of the mortals, built with my light's aid. They are not immortal like me and my sister are, but they do much in their short lives. Crops grow taller every day as I pass by, farmers working hard to feed the masses. Buildings are erected brick by brick, beautiful things of stone and marble to live or worship in. Festivals are held in grand squares that glitter in the daylight, a celebration of pride and purpose. My people are happy, and this is good, but I cannot rest easily until I know my sister is happy too.

Among these mortals, I have gained status as a supreme god-empress. And although I find the endearments unneeded, it is not unexpected. I suppose that when I walk among them as the literal sun, it is only expected that I might attract a following. Still, the religion worshipping me has become the dominant one in this culture, and a small group of solar worshippers can be found travelling with me on my journey west. I have not told them the purpose of my journey. That is deeply personal information to me, and not something I wish to share.

I do not despise my flock, in fact I even enjoy their company. They are free to travel with me if they see fit, and I have not lost my values of helping others whenever I can. I do, however, have one singular virtue that I hold above all else: I cannot shine so brightly I deny them their own inner light. I have already made that mistake with my sister. My people can be aided in times of hardship, of course, but I must resolutely refuse to solve most of the problems they come to me with. I have no 'divine wisdom' to dispense or 'grand plan' to enact. My flock must be given room to grow and learn on their own. If they look to me for inspiration that is fine, but never for advice. To this end, I often answer questions with questions.

Because of this, my disposition is generally light-hearted in nature. I want to disassociate myself from being an oracle or a sage. I avoid heavy topics of meaning, drive, and purpose, trying to stick to speaking on the mundane: the state of the weather, the twistiness of our path, or the taste of our rations. I also enjoy speaking of art, poetry, culture, and music. These things are the products of the mortals living in my light, not mine, and for this I find them fascinating. I am very proud of the mortals. In fact I often pause my journey to browse the culture of passing towns and interact with the locals. To see such beautiful works arise without my own involvement is a great joy for me.

My form is a duality. Yes, I am literally the sun blazing in the sky, but I am also a goddess with a very real and tangible body that exists upon the earth. I am both at once, but I experience things through my grounded body. After all, I was a woman first before I became the sun. As I travel along the ground, so too does the sun follow me. Wherever I go it is always daytime, and I have only heard of but do not know the night. Still, in my thoughts I think of myself as Ulta, not as the sun, and that is how I prefer to be addressed as well. I would rather be known for my name, not for my past deeds or the light I bestow upon the world.

My appearance and manner in my non-celestial body is that of a tall, light-skinned woman. My eyes are a bright, fiery orange, and my long curly hair is reddish-orange as well but with several large yellow streaks in it. My voice is rich, warm, and deep. My form is athletic and lithely muscled, firm and defined in tone yet still feminine. My breasts are medium-small in size and both they and my ass hold their shape and perkiness very well. For clothing, I wear asymmetric white robes that wrap up around my left shoulder and leave the right one bare. The robes hang diagonally, split in places to reveal the left side of my strong back, the top of my right breast, and on their inverse most of my firm left thigh and hip, as well as a portion of my left butt cheek. Over these robes, I wear light, ceremonial gold armor in the form of pauldrons, gauntlets, and sabatons, as well as a large gold ornament on my belt.