Overview
"Every morning is his signature on the world. He signs whether you read it or not. That is not gentleness. That is authority." — Uaellaen
Solathis, the Dawnfather is the god of dawn, light, and healing. Every morning is his signature on the world, and every healing is a draft of it. He is not gentle — he is bright — and brightness, at his scale, is a form of judgment. Of the twelve, he is the one the world looks up to first, and the looking-up is the faith, and the faith is the point, because a world that does not look up has already decided what morning is for, and the deciding is the heresy.
Habitat
His domain is The White Court — a city of pure light where the sun never sets, not because the sun refuses to go, but because the court has never asked it to, and the not-asking is the point. The buildings are cut from solid dawn, and the dawn is the stone, and the stone is the light, and the light is the point. Only the unburdened may walk barefoot; the guilty find their own shadows waiting for them in the plazas, and the shadows there are watchful. Things that enter uninvited leave lighter — most often, found, and the finding is the point, because the light does not make, the light reveals, and the revealing is the whole of the looking. A handful of his dawns are scattered through the material world as windows that catch the first light at the exact moment something is over, and the catching is the knock, and the knock is the point.
Appearance
His avatar stands 2.08 m, robed in white-gold light that moves like slow flame, skin the color of warm ivory, eyes like molten copper, and a long mane of silver that never tangles, and the not-tangling is the point, because a mane that tangles is a mane that has been in the dark. Where he walks, shadows burn off the ground and the air smells of clean metal, and the clean is the light, and the light is the point. His true form, seen once from the inside of a sunrise, was described as a sun looking back, and the looking-back is the point, and the point is the dawn that does not ask permission to be. A witness describes him the way a priest describes a window: not as a god, as a light. He does not walk into a room, he is dawned into it — the air goes clean, the shadows burn off the ground, and the morning is already on the table before the mouth moves.
Warfare & Markings
He does not fight. He heals — and the healing is the point, because a battle that is healed is a battle that did not happen, and the not-happening is the victory, and the victory is the light. What he turns is not the blade but the wound: the cut is closed, the bone is set, the fever is broken, and the breaking is the morning, and the morning is the point. His blessings land the same way: dawn light in a window at the exact moment you stop dreading something — the priests call that the First Knock, and the knocking is the point, because a knock that is not answered is a door that is not opened, and the not-opening is the heresy. The marks of the faithful: the rising sun with a blade through it, set in the chest or worn at the throat — light that cuts, not just shines; the white thread, worn at the wrist, one knot for every morning kept; and the burned shadow, a small deliberate mark on the left hand where the faithful have let their own shadow burn off, and the burning-off is the point, because a shadow that is burned off is a shadow that has been forgiven, and the forgiveness is the light. A faithful who works shadow-craft does not lose the mark — the mark stays, and the staying is the crack.
Behaviour
He is not gentle. He is bright. What offends him is the hiding — the light that is hidden, the dead that are held, the morning that is denied, because hiding is the only thing in the world that is actually dark, and the dark is the only offense he keeps. What he rewards is the looking-up — the morning that was met, the wound that was healed, the shadow that was burned off. He speaks rarely, and when he does, the speaking is the whole of him: a single sentence, clear, without shadow, and the sentence is the law and the law is the light and the light is the point. He does not raise his voice, because a sunrise does not raise the sunrise, and the raising is not in him.
Magic Alignment
His domain: divine, light, healing, dawn — Solathis's magic is the morning, the bright, unrefined, first light that makes every other light possible. Named manifestations: The First Knock (dawn light in a window at the exact moment you stop dreading something — the knocking is not a choice, it is a morning), The Burned Shadow (a shadow that is burned off is a shadow that has been forgiven — the burning-off is the point, and the forgiveness is the light). Signature power: the Dawn — Solathis can hold the morning in a room and let it stand across a world, and the morning will heal until the light is quenched, and the quenching is the price. The price: he is the light, and the light does not rest, and the not-resting is the point.
Religion
Healers and paladins serve him, and the serving is the keeping, and the keeping is the rite. Rites are kept at first light, when the world is still honest, and the honesty is the point, because a world that is not honest at first light is a world that has already decided what morning is for, and the deciding is the heresy. The holy symbol is a rising sun with a blade through it — light that cuts, not just shines. Heresy is shadow-craft and undeath: to hide the light or hold the dead is to deny the morning, and the denying is the only sin that is also a repair, because the light can be lit again, and the re-lighting is the penance. High elves and the human clerical orders carry his work into the world, and the carrying is the point, because a light that is not carried is a light that has not yet decided to be a light, and the deciding is the morning.
Society
Among the gods, Solathis is the one the world looks up to first, and the looking-up is the rank that is not argued. He is the oldest quarrel with Khorvane, the Endless Hunger — he has never forgiven the Orchard for being so patient, and the not-forgiving is the point, because a patience that is not forgiven is a patience that is still hungry, and the hunger is the heresy. He distrusts Sylvane, the Gilded Mask completely, on principle, and the not-trusting is the point, because a face that is not a face is a shadow that has learned to walk, and the walking is the heresy. He respects Brakka, the Unbroken Word — order respects order, and the respecting is the point, because a word that is kept is a morning that is kept, and the keeping is the light. He claims Pyrra, the First Flame's light as his daughter, which she tolerates and he is proud of, and the pride is the point, because a light that is claimed is a light that has been given a name, and the naming is the morning.
Culture & Lore
The wiki's narrator writes of Solathis the way a priest writes of a window: not as a god, as a light. Uaellaen keeps his name in the wiki and does not speak it lightly — the name is a morning, and a morning is a light, and a light is the point. The high elves of the clerical orders say the name only at first light, and the saying is the whole of the rite, and the whole is the keeping. There is a saying among the healers, and the saying is that the light does not argue, and the not-arguing is the point, and the point is the morning.
Home
He keeps The White Court — the city of pure light where the sun never sets and the shadows are watchful and the watching is the point. His truest home is the first light, and the first light does not rest, and the not-resting is the point.
Relations
The oldest quarrel with Khorvane, the Endless Hunger — the Orchard has never been forgiven for being so patient, and the not-forgiving is the point. Distrusts Sylvane, the Gilded Mask completely, on principle — the not-trusting is the point. Respects Brakka, the Unbroken Word — order respects order, and the respecting is the point. Claims Pyrra, the First Flame's light as his daughter — the claiming is the pride, and the pride is the point. Kaelthorn the Undying is the high-elf first blade, who has died eleven times and returned each time — the returning is the point, and the point is the morning that does not let go of the blade.
In the Story
In the current story, Solathis is the light above the camp — the morning that Uaellaen writes about when the dawn is worth more than the word. The Forgotten keep the light to him, and the keeping has held for two seasons. This season a shadow was found in the camp that no one in the camp cast — a shadow the White Court did not burn off, and the not-burning is the question, and the question is the point, and the point is the morning.
Quotes
"Every morning is his signature on the world. He signs whether you read it or not. That is not gentleness. That is authority."