Long before the name Grandpa_Hot_Pot became a cosmic meme and long before divine trials and realms were built from her whimsical boredom, she was known as Arietta.
She was also called the Silent Star, the Gloomwalker, and the One Who Watched From Afar.
There were more, but none that she liked.
Her legend wasn't forged in golden halls or sung in heroic sagas.
It was whispered—quietly, fearfully—by those who once sought her light and were swallowed whole by it.
Because Arietta was always strong.
Too strong.
Even when she was young—if gods could be called young—her tales had already begun to stack.
Each new divinity was born not from stories she wanted, but from stories she was given.
Her tales were stories of Power. Stories of Fear. Stories of Loneliness.
When she first walked the mortal realm, she didn't wear flowing robes or wield flashy powers.
She wore dark cloaks, and her hood was always pulled slightly too low.
