Ese
Ese (a.k.a. The Veiled Mother)
Ese, the Veiled Mother, is the goddess of life and endurance in the desolate and haunted land of Har’Akir. Once a radiant deity of love, magic, and fertility—ushering in seasons of growth and sheltering families under her protective wings—Ese has become a figure of tenacious survival in a world where the dead often outnumber the living.
She is portrayed as a veiled woman with outstretched wings of linen and gold, her face never fully seen, her voice a whisper heard in the rustle of dry reeds or the lullabies sung to restless children. Her presence evokes bittersweet comfort, like the scent of incense over decay, or the warmth of a fire in a collapsing home. To worship Ese is to cling to life with cracked hands and tear-streaked cheeks.
In a realm where joy is fleeting and death ever-watchful, Ese embodies the will to endure—not with triumph or power, but through quiet, sacred perseverance. She is the protector of women and children, of the sick and the weary, of those who fight to live not for glory, but for love. Her magic is gentle: soothing pain, preserving memory, and fending off spirits that hunger for the living.
Yet under the influence of the Dark Powers, even Ese’s blessings are tinged with sorrow. Her miracles may prolong life, but not without cost. The wounds she heals leave faint blue scars. Her protection may avert death, but never for long. And those who cling too tightly to her favor may find themselves lingering beyond their time, unable to pass on, tethered by fear and love alike.
Divine Symbols & Sigils
A lotus blooming from cracked earth, representing beauty and vitality enduring in ruin.
Tenets of Faith
Shrines to Ese are often humble and hidden—in oases, birthing chambers, and quiet sanctuaries tended by women. Her temples are adorned with dried flowers, beads of mother-of-pearl, and carvings of protective wings arching over sleeping forms.
Ese’s priests are midwives, healers, and wanderers, offering aid in childbirth, illness, and grief. They wear linen veils and speak softly, chanting to lull crying infants or to drive away the ghosts that hover near the dying. They do not perform great rites, but small, vital acts of care—lighting lamps for lost travelers, blessing food, whispering prayers into burial shrouds.
To pray to Ese is to ask not for abundance or triumph, but for one more breath, one more heartbeat, and the strength to bear the weight of love in a world shaped by death.
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