THE SEVENSWORN PANTHEON — II. THE DREAMWEAVER
“Shivaroth. You are the god of dreams and guardian of the lost, though you seem to be quite lost yourself.”
god of: sleep, dreams & nightmares, wanderers & travel, minstrels & song, and guardian of all who have lost their way.
associations: the colors purple & red, weeping willows, old patchwork fabric, singing to oneself, birds of prey, autumn.
known for: his sympathy for mortalkind, his gilded scimitar (used to help aevar hold the line during the night war), his prowess in battle, his dual nature of kindness & wrath, his idolization of his brother aevar, and his imagination.
affiliated with: the seven (family), aevar (older brother and former companion), ronan aldrea (shivaroth’s herald and close friend), and the adacian circle (allies)
role in mythology: it is said that shivaroth dreamed all of the crescent’s most beautiful places, creatures, and songs, though in his nightmares he created its deadliest beasts, landscapes, and storms. according to legend, when awoken after a pleasant dream shivaroth is gentle and kind, but after a nightmare he becomes cold, withdrawn, and wrathful. though his temper is rarely seen, there are whispers that he is capable of locking a mortal in a labyrinth of their worst nightmares, where they remain trapped in their own mind while their sleeping body slowly dies on the waking plane. however, the shivaroth that currently walks among mortals must have had a long run of good dreams, as his disposition is generally calm and grounded.
role in modern adacia: once an incredibly powerful primary deity, shivaroth has become known throughout the crescent not for his mastery over serenvah, the realm of dreams, but for the act of sacrificing himself for the god aevar over one century ago. after holding himself in stasis for decades, he has regained most of his knowledge but not all of his power, leading him to leave behind his former title leta’anvaroth, meaning great weaver of dreams, as a mark of his weakness. he is now known only as shivaroth, the dreamweaver, and prefers the company of mortals to that of his increasingly volatile family.
the truth, in ronan’s eyes:
Shivaroth allowed him to lean against his side as they made their way back to Ronan’s room. He was steady, warmer than he had been when they’d done the same in Illirium. His head sagged against the god’s shoulder. When the door had finally been shut behind him and Ronan was led to his bed, his hand caught Shivaroth’s and held him in place.
“I’m tired,” he said, his voice barely more than a sigh. “I’m tired, and I’m scared, and I want this all to be okay. I want it to be over.”
Shivaroth’s fingers wrapped around his own, and he sat down next to Ronan on the edge of the bed, his hair shielding his face. “I know, dear one. I know.” He exhaled heavily. “Vi’attai,” he murmured, the word easy on his lips. I love you. “I am here.”
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