by Meoauniaea » Thu Dec 12, 2019 5:37 am
We are... well, our race is called the Droskians. It's not so much a race I suppose as a group of deities that control a set of aspects throughout the universe. We keep things running smoothly for the more powerful beings. After all, the gods themselves have much more to worry about than things like the weather, right?
There's a guy, his name is Moali, he controls the shadows. His literal entire domain is just the areas where something or someone blocks light from reaching the ground. He's a decent guy, I suppose.
Then there's Wyria; she controls the wind. Her entire job is to rustle everyone's jimmies. She makes the leaves move and works with the other weather deities to create storms. She's a playful spirit, but one with anger problems. If you don't believe me, just look at tornadoes.
There's Solau, who controls light. She brings light from the stars to the ground. But, ironically, she is constantly stopped by people and things, and a specific mischievous shadow deity is constantly trying to harsh her vibe.
Then... there's us.
There are four of us in total to control the seasons. We come in pairs: Summer and Winter, Spring and Fall, dancing constantly with the other couple between us. Ymbra is the Summer goddess; she brings warmth and job and pleasure, the hero of schoolchildren everywhere. Her partner is Dorvi, the Winter goddess; Dorvi likes to contradict her lover by being frigid and cold, but still is a hero to the children as she brings snow down to enlighten them to the joys that also come with the cold. They are, quite literally, polar opposites.
I'm Ausko, and I control Spring. It's a period, I'd like to think, of transition: bringing warmth to the world once again, and beauty, too. I encourage the flowers to come from the ground, the brilliant Azaleas and Daffodils that herald my arrival each year considered signs of new life and rebirth. Many cultures, the humans included, celebrate the mythical idea of the world raising seemingly from the dead: Winter's frozen, lifeless chill gives way to Spring's youthful, playful life. I get the joy, as the dominant deity of the period, of seeing the new young brought forth by the hibernators to see the sun for the first time. It's a period of renewal and rejuvenation, of birth and hope. I feel as though I drew the lucky straw. I have one of the most beautiful seasons to call my own.
My partner is the representative for Fall. His name is Falro. He has the opposite job of my own, but the concept is similar: he creates a period of Fallow, a time when fields are laid to rest. His job is to prepare the land for winter, cooling it down and encouraging the plants to sleep for the winter soon to come. He coaxes the life that has been active since my period of the year to settle down and prepare to sleep, giving in to the cold that is soon to come. He loves to watch the last minute preparations of the squirrels as they store food to make it through the harsh months to come. Falro encourages them to settle down and rest, preserving their energy for the time ahead where food will be scarce. Falro also has the joys of harvest season. The fruits that have spent the year maturing are finally ready: crisp apples, sweet corn, pungent hay, and gourds of all sizes and colors. His too is a period of transition, but whereas my season encourages growth, his season ends the growth period and collects the bounty.
Each year, the four of us dance, trading off our wings to the next person in succession. I can only fly during my own season; my wings grow weak with overuse and take another three seasons to fully heal so they may be used again.
Honestly, though, it is not something I'd give up lightly. I suppose one of the others might have to, first. We are all eligible to choose something new to govern now, but yet none of us have. I would like to think that the others enjoy the delicate balance of our dance just as much as I do, but I'd be a fool. The truth is, we simply don't trust each other enough to leave at this point. We've grown fond of our dance and the intricacies it entails. We each worry that if one leaves, the balance might be destroyed and the seasons thrown to the winds.
I'm sure Wyria would very much enjoy that.
