You must create your form to shine how you desire; Mars creates his form
Creation as a god is not a simple thing, especially at the beginning of it all, at the dawn of time. Especially when you’re faced with your own form, speaking to the new mortals, who dawn you the title of a Goddess. A kind person, with purple eyes, and the light that reflects their grey locks make star shapes, and yellow sparks float around them. A god's form is decided by the king of gods, Betchrin, but the god can mold it to be what they want. It's clay to be molded, which can lead to some looking like ancient horrors due to hands not being delicate. Venus was what they called them, however, they were growing bothered with this form, with this title, with this constant use of M’lady, with this constant flow of sacrifices fit for a queen. They did not want to be a queen, they did not want to be a goddess, but what do they want to be? They already are a god, the highest form one can be. What more can one be? The stars tell them to rebuild their form, but there's a fear, a fear that their followers won't recognize them, that their followers won't accept this new form or new name. And what will the rest of the pantheon think? Will they be cast out like the horrific forms some gods made themselves? Forced to walk among mortals? Or will this new form be loved? That's what the stars tell them, that they will be loved no matter what, and if the old servants, gods and followers don't care for their new form, or name, then they weren't worth their time or care to begin with. So he began molding, discarding the old clay they called flesh, his hands shaking as it tears from the rest of him, it doesn't hurt, it's freeing almost, as if a safety, a release, and he slowly forms what he wants to be. No longer Venus, but Mars. As he finishes, there's clumps of white on the ground of their palace, that slowly fade into stars themselves, a new form given, a new form that doesn't feel like suffocation, they look into the mirror, a small smile, a smile that has not graced his face in eons, spreads upon their face, as tears fall from his eyes to the ground. – That was the day the goddess titled Venus died, so that a god, Mars, might rise from the ashes.
