Aurelia Celestine wanted a seat among the high gods of Eldar. But no mortal knew her name. She stood in the great hall of her sanctuary, where sunlit stone glowed and golden carvings ran along the walls. She had built beauty enough for a hundred gods. Yet the altars stayed cold. No prayers rose. No worship reached her. Without worship, the high pantheon would never notice a small, forgotten goddess like her. She walked to the tall window and looked down at the valley. Farmers worked the fields there. They prayed to older gods, gods with temples in every town. Aurelia had power, but power fed on belief. Each empty day, she felt herself grow thinner, quieter, closer to fading. She needed mortals to find her. So she made a plan. She would leave a gift in the world below, something no farmer could ignore. Aurelia raised her hands. Light gathered between them and hardened into stone. When it cooled, she held a paired carving. One half showed a sun with a warm, smiling face. The other showed a calm moon. She poured a thread of her own power into the stone, so that anyone who touched it would feel her presence. Then she called her mount. The great winged serpent uncoiled from the sanctuary roof. Its black scales shone with bands of color, and its broad feathered wings filled the doorway. It bowed its horned head to her. She climbed onto its back, the stone gift held tight against her chest. They flew down through the clouds. Aurelia searched for a place mortals visited. She found a clearing where a strange plant grew alone. Its trunk twisted with thorned tendrils, and its huge bloom glowed like a caged fire. Travelers left offerings at its roots. She had found her spot. Aurelia set the sun and moon stone at the base of the glowing plant. "Find this," she whispered. "Remember me." She and the serpent rose back into the sky and waited above the clouds. Before dusk, a young shepherd came to the clearing. He saw the stone and knelt. His fingers brushed the carved sun. His face changed at once. He felt her, and he spoke her name aloud, though no one had ever taught it to him. "Aurelia." Warmth flooded through her. The first true prayer. She almost wept. But the shepherd did not keep the secret. He carried the stone back to his village and told everyone what he had felt. Word spread fast. By nightfall, a crowd gathered in the clearing, and they did not only speak her name. They argued. Some claimed the stone for the old gods. Some claimed it for themselves. Aurelia had wanted to be seen. Now she was. And far above, in the dark between the stars, older and jealous gods turned their eyes toward the new name rising from the earth.