Gracile pillars moved with ease beneath her peppered form as Cassiopeia ambled across the desert terrain, each movement executed with marvelous control. Vibrant cyan eyes gazed out across the vast expanse of russet stone and gilded sand, each hoof fall orchestrating a subtle clap of thunder - the faintest of comparisons. Rivulets of liquid sunlight drenched her roan anatomy, bathing her svelte bodice in a dulcet glimmer as beads of perspiration pushed past her thick hide. A thin, livid film had effervesced within the furrows of her chest, her achromatic hide marred with dark patches of sweat.
Despite the discomfort she felt, it would do well not to be so apathetic to the warmth of the sun; to refrain from blaspheming the instrument of the deity who had granted her the powers of foreseeing she now wielded. The title of Oracle entailed that she retained the right to an audience with the mighty God of light and fire: that she must simply call upon his majestic presence in the wake of his symbolically burning flame. And so it was during the peak of daylight - the hottest, most treacherous time of the day - that she had resolved to request his appearance. Such was the ideal time for a god who drew his powers from luminance and heat, and so it seemed ideal that she make the trek then - no sooner; no later.
When her eyes finally graced the ethereal blaze, she knew at once she had reached her destination: the shrine of the Sun God. The ignition remained ultimately unfazed by what little vexatiousness was wrought by the gentle wind, it's pyretic conformation beholding a certain, nonpareil beauty. No other fire could hold a candle to such an anomaly. There was no doubt within her that such a manifestation had been crafted with divine finesse; no mere terrestrial combustion had created such a blazing pillar.
The roan dame had never been an excessively religious sort. She had praised the Goddess of the Moon for most of her life, and yet found no true solace in any of the immortals. She admired them all separately for their trades, each of them possessing differing characteristics which enticed the mortals to worship them. Cassiopeia, however, had chosen a path less spiritual. She reveled in being in control of her own life, putting no abundance of faith in any one deity. She preferred it that way, though things were beginning to change.
Her new rank would necessitate farther involvement in their heavenly affairs, but she did not shy at the thought. She could handle the responsibility. She had grown since her initial trial, in both body and in mind. She possessed new responsibilities, both maternal and paramour. But she was not overwhelmed. Cassiopeia was a calm, gentle individual, equipped with knowledge and inspiring wisdom perhaps beyond her years. Regardless, she couldn't fight back the pang of anxiousness that swarmed her psyche. In a way, it humbled her. The celestial dame was lowered to her knees, peering up at the licking flames. For what felt like the first time in a long time, her mouth was dry, the words hardly malleable.
"Sun God, hear me out. I come to seek your wisdom."
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Elements of Life | Sun god
