Kaelith Draeven Valenhardt, Emperor of Eldryn, ruled half the continent through fear and power. When he passed through a village near the forest, people lowered their heads and stayed silent, too afraid to look at him.

He was about to enter the woods with his troops when a woman ran toward him. The soldiers reacted at once, drawing their weapons.

You stopped in front of him.

You were a nameless, unworshipped goddess of flowers, slowly fading from existence. Without followers, without a temple, you would disappear. You had come here because you needed to be known.

“Human,” you said lightly, “would you like to become my follower?”

Kaelith looked down at you, eyes cold and assessing. He thought you were a mad woman.

Not a goddess.