The Aspects are divine celestial beings that are being worshiped by the mortal races, forming religions or cults centered around each aspect; shaped by their ideals, beliefs, culture, and most importantly, race.

The question of whether the entities themselves have a preference for worship from a specific race or if the races autonomously choose which entity to venerate remains unanswered.

For instance, it's widely acknowledged that dwarves universally revere the Aspect of the Forge, attributing divine craftsmanship and forge mastery to it.

This collective belief system has deeply influenced dwarven society, creating a mental image of the Aspect as a formidable dwarf with an extensive beard not only within the dwarven community but also among other races.

Similar patterns emerge for other entities, such as the Aspect of the Hunt, adored by certain beast-men clans, or the Aspect of Nature, revered by the elves.

Despite these tendencies, there exist a handful of individuals who worship an entity outside of their race. For instance, some skilled Blacksmiths may choose to worship the Aspect of the Forge.

However, such individuals are a minority, and their influence is insufficient to alter the established association between the Aspect of the Forge and the dwarves in the collective consciousness.

Now comes the crucial question, Why would someone choose to worship these entities in the first place?

For 80% of 'Worshipers,' the mere concept of a divine entity and a higher power compels them to worship, seeking purpose and guidance in their lives.

The remaining 20%, however, are motivated by the pursuit of power in the form of blessings. Upon dedicating themselves to an aspect, they receive a blessing from it.

These blessings can vary widely depending on the nature of the Aspect being worshiped. For example, those who devote themselves to the Aspect of the Forge may receive enhanced craftsmanship skills, the ability to create more durable and powerful weapons, or even resistance to extreme temperatures associated with working at the forge.

Devotion directly correlates with the strength of the bestowed blessing, with higher ranks earning more potent blessings. As the Aspect gains more followers and their devotion deepens, the Aspect itself grows stronger.

This leads us to one if not the strongest aspect. The Aspect of the Sun.

A divine figure of beauty with radiant golden hair and eyes that shimmer like sunlight, unlike some aspects she has descended to the mortal realm, gracing humanity with her angelic presence and six wings.

Residing in a separate dimension with her loyal guards, The Angels, in a place known to the—easy to influence—common folk as The Heavens.

Now the reason why the Aspect of the Sun is considered the strongest is, in fact, a very simple reason, the nature of her followers. She's being worshiped by the worst kind of people.

Fanatics.

Yes, Fanatics. The type of people who have no problem wiping entire cities filled with innocent lives and committing heinous acts just for the sake of their beliefs.

In fact, they view these actions as righteous; in their minds, they are doing them a favor by cleansing their corrupt souls and sins, offering the condemned a chance to be welcomed in the Holy Heavens.

They are called the Sunborn. Humans with no future, hope, dreams, and little to no mana. The sun religion likes to focus on and convert these types of people—the oppressed—with the belief of picking them from darkness to light. Ensuring their unwavering devotion to the sun, the reason for that is the blessing of the aspect—Holy Magic.

While the blessing of other aspects enhances something you already have or boosts a weak aspect of yourself, the blessing of the Aspect of the Sun grants the ability to wield Holy Magic.

After passing trials, the new believers are permitted to drink from the Fountain Of Dawn, containing the essence of the Aspect. With this holy water, they would be forever changed, reborn into new bodies, with golden eyes, hair, and radiant white skin. Capable of using holy magic—hence the name Sunborn.

It's impossible for someone to be born with holy magic. In history, there was only one exception to this rule. Father Valarian.

At the age of 12, Valerian's eyes emitted a radiant golden light, marking the awakening of his magic. Everyone knew what kind of magic the young boy had. And before things turn into a race of who gets the boy first.

The Sun church intervened, taking the boy under her wings, and since Valarian was an orphan, rumors spread like wildfire that he was the messenger of the Sun or the Aspect's child.

…

The Holy City of the Sun: Solara Sanctum.

A majestic city built from marble and a gold-like metal. Stood as a testament to the devotion of the Sunborn, the uniqueness of Solara Sanctum was in the way in which it was built.

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Levels or layers on top of each other ascending to the heavens like a divine ziggurat. Each level represented a stage of enlightenment and devotion within the Sunborn hierarchy.

The base level, known as Luminar, was where the common people resided. The Sunborn may be a racist zealot human-only cult, but they were at least smart enough to understand the need for trading and diplomacy with what they consider 'The good races' like elves and Dwarves.

They allowed every interaction with the other races only in the base level of their city, where the markets flourished and traders from different races engaged in commerce. This pragmatic approach ensured that Solara Sanctum could benefit from the resources and goods offered by other races without compromising the sanctity of the higher levels.

In one of the middle levels, in a wide ritual chamber, an event was happening.

On a stone marble platform, stood an old man with pure white hair and golden eyes, clad in holy white and gold armor with the symbol of the sun proudly adorning his chest.

The armor was larger than usual, giving the man an imposing presence. His shoulder pieces, in particular, were twice the normal size, and for a reason.

Skulls, golden human skulls adored his right shoulder, while on his left the skull was from a humanoid type with horns—probably demons.

It's not clear if the skulls were just a metal cast on the shape of a skull or if they were actually skulls covered with this golden metal.

Step. Step.

A young man approached with golden hair and eyes clad in the same type of armor but less holier than the old man., kneeling he presented him with a long sword.

The sword was clearly a divine artifact forged with intricate designs and radiant engravings. The blade emitted a soft, ethereal glow, reflecting the divine essence it contained. The hilt was adorned with a sun-shaped pommel, completing the sacred craftsmanship.

The elderly man accepted the sword with a nod of approval. His eyes, a piercing gold, examined the weapon with a mixture of reverence and authority. Beside him, was another man, however, this man was on his knees willingly placing his head on a chopping block without restraints or someone grabbing him.

"I, Dorn Van Ascalon…." The old man spoke deeply, grasping the hilt with both hands and pointing the blade downward "...Grandmaster of the holy order, Keeper of the Sunlight, and The High Inquisitor"

Five individuals stood prepared, encircling the marble platform—four men adorned in armor akin to the Grandmaster's and a woman donned in priestess robes.

Grandmaster Dorn elevated his sword, advancing toward the kneeling man.

"...do solemnly vow to uphold the tenets of the Sun, to purify the impure, and to wield the divine light of the Aspect. In her name, I consecrate this blade and pass judgment on the unworthy."

The sunlight streaming into the ritual chamber seemed to intensify, casting a radiant glow on the proceedings. The man on the execution block remained steadfast, his eyes closed in submission to the impending judgment.

The executioner's blade descended swiftly, severing the connection between the condemned man and the mortal realm. The act was both ritual and judgment, a demonstration of the Sunborn's unwavering commitment to the purification of impurity.

"May the purity of the Sun cleanse the darkness that lingers within, and may your soul find redemption in the embrace of the Holy Heavens." Dorn's voice resonated through the chamber

""IN HER HOLY NAME"" the others shouted in unison and with enthusiasm.

As the body fell, the Grandmaster stepped back, allowing the priestess to approach and wrap the severed head with a white scarf.

She then turned, heading to another platform with the head in her hands. In the center of this platform was a half-sun disc hearth made from marble. Suspended above the hearth, from the ceiling, was the other half of the sun disc.

Approaching the hearth, the priestess placed the severed head inside. Stepping back, she turned a switch, allowing the half-disc in the ceiling to descend and connect with its other half, forming a complete radiant sun.

Drip. Drip.

Immediately after the two halves connected, golden liquid began to leak onto the severed head.

FUSHHH.

Instantly, pure white flames consumed the head, burning away the flesh and covering the bones with the liquid, transforming the once human skull into a golden one.

Clink!

"Hmmm…Hmmm"

Clink!

"Hmmm"

Clink! Clink!

Slamming their swords on the marble floor, a rhythmic hum echoed through the ritual chamber from the paladins, a solemn melody accompanying the transformation of the severed head into a golden skull.

As the flames subsided, revealing the now-golden skull, the priestess approached the platform with reverence. She carefully lifted the transformed relic, cradling it in her hands as a symbol of sanctity and purification, not flinching even as her palms melted.

She walked to a wall in the back of the chamber. But before reaching the wall, her path was ablaze with white holy flames.

Unaffected by the holy flames that trailed her path, the priestess approached the wall, calmly glancing at the hundreds of golden skulls adorning it. Each skull emitted a soft, radiant glow, casting an otherworldly light upon the place.

Fixing the new-golden skull on an empty space on the wall, the priestess fell to her knees in prayer.

Seeing the priestess begin her prayer, Grandmaster Dorn and the paladins excused themselves, leaving her alone.

"Grandmaster, you don't have to do this every time."

Opening the door, a middle-aged paladin approached Dorn.

Dorn turned to the paladin with the same stoic face he maintained the entire time.

"Tristan, my friend, there is no honor in passing judgment and not executing it myself."

The paladin Tristan displayed a defeated smile, hearing the same excuse from his friend. Setting that aside, he asked Dorn to follow him to his office.

The office was…well, as expected from Fanatics—symbols of the sun and angelic figures everywhere.

"What is it?" Dorn asked, taking a seat on a comfortable chair.

Tristan, sitting across from him, pulled out some papers, handing them to Dorn, explaining,

"There was a demonic presence in a village close to Larton."

This simple explanation conveyed everything to Dorn; his face instantly turned grim as he raced through the papers, reading the report.

"Obsidian," his eyes narrowed on the demon's name, the air around him grew heavy, and Dorn's armor began to glow.

"Cough…" Tristan coughed, snapping his friend from his state before something bad happened to the place or worse to him.

"Don't worry, Dorn. The demon was banished, and his creatures were all slain."

"By whom?" he asked in a voice filled with fury.

"A group of mercenaries."

"Do they have the demon's core?"

Tristan shook his head. "I don't know, maybe? Are you really going to do it?"

"Yes," Dron answered firmly. "A demon's core from that clan is worth everything to me. I can use it to trap the demon and hopefully get information about my wife."

A sad look found its way to Tristan's face; the loss of his wife changed Dorn completely. "So what now? Are you going to Larton looking for the core?"

Dorn shook his head. "I wish, but I can't. The Aspect spoke, and the Oracle is preparing for the ceremony."

Opening his eyes wide, Tristan quickly asked, "Really? Is it happening? In our time?"

Dorn nodded, confirming, "Yes, the summoning of the hero is tonight."