Elmara's Mask

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that the goddess Elmara came into her divine inheritance like most other as a product of the Age of Seeding. Unlike many of her divine contemporaries who found their calling immediately apparent, the Lady Elmara began her immortal existence without a particular portfolio to call her own, yet possessed of such extraordinary beauty that even the most jaded of celestial observers could not help but remark upon it.

Her countenance, it must be said, bore a striking resemblance to that of Lilith — a goddess of comparable youth and recent ascension, whose own beauty had become the subject of much whispered conversation in the higher circles of the divine. Where the two differed, however, was in their manner of employing such formidable assets. Whilst Lilith, that most wanton of divinities, chose to exercise her charms with a certain brazen directness, the Lady Elmara conducted herself with the refined grace of a diplomat at court. She preferred to guide mortals through the gentle art of persuasion, allowing them to arrive at their own conclusions through the careful cultivation of their innermost desires, rather than overwhelming them with the brute force of divine compulsion.

Indeed, where Elmara’s beauty manifested as an elegant refinement, Lilith’s allure was of a more primal nature - calculated to inflame the baser passions of the heart.

As fortune would have it — or perhaps, as misfortune would dictate — the Lady Elmara’s following amongst the mortal races grew quite substantially, and it was this very success that sowed the seeds of discord between the two rivals. The goddess Lilith, observing this development with increasing consternation, found herself consumed by that most unbecoming of emotions: envy. And in a moment of ill-advised passion, she confronted her rival with a challenge most audacious, declaring that the mortals’ devotion to Elmara was founded upon nothing more substantial than the superficial appeal of her features, and not upon any genuine appreciation of her wisdom or character.

“Your followers,” Lilith proclaimed with the confidence of one who believes herself to be in possession of superior knowledge, “are drawn to you not for your counsel, but for your countenance. I, who have dwelt amongst the creatures of the earth for countless eons, understand their nature in a way that you, in your relative youth, cannot possibly comprehend. Strip away your picturesque features, and you shall find yourself bereft of the passion you have so carefully cultivated in the hearts of men.”

To this accusation, the Lady Elmara made no immediate reply. Yet, one could not help but observe that she was not, in fact, convinced of the truth of Lilith’s assertions.

Determined to settle the matter once and for all, and to prove the sincerity of her followers’ devotion, Elmara resolved upon a course of action most extraordinary. She sought out the Mindless Giant Ärun, that solitary creature whose existence was bound inextricably to the eternal forges of the stars, and whose consciousness had long since been consumed by the ceaseless rhythm of hammer upon anvil. This being, who had known no desires beyond the simple act of creation, who had lost all recognition of self and purpose in the endless repetition of his craft, was suddenly and most unexpectedly roused from his mechanical existence.

For in the presence of the Lady of Light — for such was Elmara’s title amongst those who knew her intimately — a most remarkable transformation occurred. A glimmer of recognition, faint though it may have been, flickered within the Giant’s dimmed consciousness. He heard her request — indeed, he comprehended it — and in that moment of clarity, he made a promise most solemn: he would forge for her a mask of the finest emerald, a work of such exquisite craftsmanship that it would serve her purpose admirably, provided only that she would consent to visit him once every thousand years so that he might experience once more that rarest of gifts: the clarity of mind necessary for true creation.

To this condition, the Lady Elmara gave her word — a vow that would prove to have consequences far beyond what either party might have anticipated.

With great ceremony and no small measure of theatricality, Elmara made a further vow to Lilith: she would never again remove the mask, thus proving beyond all doubt that her followers’ devotion was not merely the product of her physical beauty, but rather the result of something far more substantial — her wisdom, her character, and her council.

Alas, as is so often the case in matters of divine artifice, the outcome was not quite what had been intended. For in that brief moment when the Giant’s mind had been restored to its full capacity, he had created not merely a mask, but the most extraordinary of magical artifacts — a work that, far from diminishing Elmara’s beauty, enhanced it tenfold. Her presence, already commanding, now possessed an authority so absolute that obedience seemed not merely desirable, but inevitable.

When Lilith beheld this transformation, she was struck with a mixture of awe and covetousness. She, too, desired such an artifact for herself, and approached the Giant with her own request. But Ärun, having completed his work, had returned to his former state — mindless, mechanical, hammering his anvil without recognition, without purpose, without the faintest glimmer of the consciousness that had briefly illuminated his existence.

The Lady Elmara, however, had grown weary of such petty rivalries. With the dignity befitting her station, she resolved to set the matter aside. She had come to understand that her true purpose lay not in competing with others for the adoration of mortals, but in employing her considerable influence and power in service of a higher calling: the promotion of unity amongst the divine, and the cultivation of the finest qualities in all beings, mortal and immortal alike.

It was in that moment of profound realization—that moment when she chose diplomacy over discord, unity over division, service over self-aggrandizement — that the goddess truly came into her own, personifying at last her portfolio as the diplomat of the gods.