The light disappeared.
He didn't.
The temples emptied. SOLMOURN stayed.
Now the sun is finding its believers again.
Sad sun, serious stare
Ancient doom, but oddly photogenic.
Nobody knows when SOLMOURN started moping. One bad eclipse, one missing dawn, and now he floats around looking personally offended by daylight.
He keeps little dead suns in his sleeves, whispers at the moon, and calls it temple work. No one argues with him because the robe is huge and the vibe is worse.
Some say he can bring the light back. He says maybe later.
The day, according to him
A full schedule built around orb hoarding and dramatic silence.
When the little suns start orbiting, leave him alone. That means he is thinking, scheming, or trying to make the sky feel guilty.
Seal the Eclipse
Three seals. Three chances. Strike only when the wandering mark enters the gate.
