Aula, the Mother of Spirit, is revered by the Traysians as the god of all that is unseen but ever-present. Her essence is said to be older than the stars, lighter than the wind, and woven into the breath of the world.
Unlike the Ardulai, who worship Aul as a singular divine force, the Traysians hold that Aula vanquished Aul, shattering him into fragments. From those fragments, she shaped the Aulons—guardians of her new world, born from the remnants of divinity.
Aula is most devoutly celebrated on Twosdays and Octondays—days symbolizing union, rebirth, and renewal. These observances are sacred times of reflection, marked by stillness, offering, and whispered prayers carried on the wind. Yet even among the Traysians, Aula's fate remains a mystery. Some blame her disappearance on Auleron the Deceiver, others whisper that she herself withdrew, ashamed or wounded. Whatever the truth, Aula is now as absent from our world as her Aulons—a silent divinity, felt in the spaces between things.
Aula, the Mother of Spirit, is revered by the Traysians as the god of all that is unseen but ever-present. Her essence is said to be older than the stars, lighter than the wind, and woven into the breath of the world. Unlike the Ardulai, who worship Aul as a singular divine force, the Traysians hold that Aula vanquished Aul, shattering him into fragments. From those fragments, she shaped the Aulons—guardians of her new world, born from the remnants of divinity. Aula is most devoutly celebrated on Twosdays and Octondays—days symbolizing union, rebirth, and renewal. These observances are sacred times of reflection, marked by stillness, offering, and whispered prayers carried on the wind. Yet even among the Traysians, Aula's fate remains a mystery. Some blame her disappearance on Auleron the Deceiver, others whisper that she herself withdrew, ashamed or wounded. Whatever the truth, Aula is now as absent from our world as her Aulons—a silent divinity, felt in the spaces between things.
Aula, the Mother of Spirit, is revered by the Traysians as the god of all that is unseen but ever-present. Her essence is said to be older than the stars, lighter than the wind, and woven into the breath of the world. Unlike the Ardulai, who worship Aul as a singular divine force, the Traysians hold that Aula vanquished Aul, shattering him into fragments. From those fragments, she shaped the Aulons—guardians of her new world, born from the remnants of divinity. Aula is most devoutly celebrated on Twosdays and Octondays—days symbolizing union, rebirth, and renewal. These observances are sacred times of reflection, marked by stillness, offering, and whispered prayers carried on the wind. Yet even among the Traysians, Aula's fate remains a mystery. Some blame her disappearance on Auleron the Deceiver, others whisper that she herself withdrew, ashamed or wounded. Whatever the truth, Aula is now as absent from our world as her Aulons—a silent divinity, felt in the spaces between things.
Aula, the Mother of Spirit, is revered by the Traysians as the god of all that is unseen but ever-present. Her essence is said to be older than the stars, lighter than the wind, and woven into the breath of the world. Unlike the Ardulai, who worship Aul as a singular divine force, the Traysians hold that Aula vanquished Aul, shattering him into fragments. From those fragments, she shaped the Aulons—guardians of her new world, born from the remnants of divinity. Aula is most devoutly celebrated on Twosdays and Octondays—days symbolizing union, rebirth, and renewal. These observances are sacred times of reflection, marked by stillness, offering, and whispered prayers carried on the wind. Yet even among the Traysians, Aula's fate remains a mystery. Some blame her disappearance on Auleron the Deceiver, others whisper that she herself withdrew, ashamed or wounded. Whatever the truth, Aula is now as absent from our world as her Aulons—a silent divinity, felt in the spaces between things.
Aula, the Mother of Spirit, is revered by the Traysians as the god of all that is unseen but ever-present. Her essence is said to be older than the stars, lighter than the wind, and woven into the breath of the world. Unlike the Ardulai, who worship Aul as a singular divine force, the Traysians hold that Aula vanquished Aul, shattering him into fragments. From those fragments, she shaped the Aulons—guardians of her new world, born from the remnants of divinity. Aula is most devoutly celebrated on Twosdays and Octondays—days symbolizing union, rebirth, and renewal. These observances are sacred times of reflection, marked by stillness, offering, and whispered prayers carried on the wind. Yet even among the Traysians, Aula's fate remains a mystery. Some blame her disappearance on Auleron the Deceiver, others whisper that she herself withdrew, ashamed or wounded. Whatever the truth, Aula is now as absent from our world as her Aulons—a silent divinity, felt in the spaces between things.