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The weathered statue atop the catacombs of the ancient capital feels familiar; something tugged at the back of Pix’s mind whenever he looks upon her. Not that he’d ever know her intimately, but he sees her every day. He may almost regard her as a friend in these desolate deserted streets, where few visitors come and she is his only companion. The Mother of Sunflowers, unless the people who used to live here worshiped a similar deity. The occasional sunflower that broke through the coarse savannah ground and grew against the odds leads him to the correct hypothesis. He can’t help but smile when he comes across a budding sunflower where there had previously been none. He could swear the statue itself smiles when he unearths another artifact of lives past.
The past lives - Pixlriffs knows it better than anyone. Though it had passed, the past still lives. It lives through memory; through song and dance, through paintings and architecture. Through ruins and debris. Through stories passed on from generation to generation, told time and time again, twisted but with a kernel of the truth.
The same can be said about myths and legends. Perhaps actual titans had once walked on this world - perhaps those great rulers of the past had been equated with titans, and the modern world, as the ancient people knew it, had been established by these people. Perhaps an actual deer god chose a divine champion to combat an evil power. Perhaps a sentient sea creature lay numerous eggs of which only two demigods survived. And perhaps the Mother of Sunflowers indeed lived among the people.
Many stories about the Mother of Sunflowers persist to this day. She was born out of pure sunlight. She grew out of a sunflower. As a minor goddess, she sired a human who died a tragic death and whom she turned into a sunflower. Her sacrifice saved the harvest of a once great empire and blessed them with fertile lands. She was human once, but ascended in a literal blaze of glory. She died in a fire protecting her people and ascended. She can never die as an immortal. She gave birth to a golden goose that could lay golden eggs. She attempted growing the largest sunflower but it refused to grow further, leaving only the stalk. She grew a magnificent tree in the mesa that did live. She could turn an entire wheat field to dust, but was more likely to grant bountiful harvests and hours of unimpeded sunlight. She had a human avatar to walk among people. She was kindness personified. She built a mysterious monolith in the desert where candles burned forever without losing wax. She won a wager against a fellow god and battled hordes of demons, solidifying her position as a minor goddess of battle along with being a goddess of the sun, life, and rebirth. She was a mentor, a friend, a companion, but most importantly, she was a Mother to everyone who turned to her and who asked for her help or blessing.
The god Joel has never had the pleasure of meeting her. He had come into power and godhood after she’d long gone into a slumber, along with the other gods, as she was no longer worshiped. Joel looks at that story and knows he must not be forgotten. He cannot be forgotten, lest his power fades and he wanes away as well. He hears the story of the giant sunflower and decides people will not easily forget him when they see a constant reminder of his existence. He builds his home in the sky, right above the village he might have once called home. Stratos, in all its glory, built with marble and gold and other precious materials to show these mortals below that he is not only powerful, but also filthy rich. Some people only understand material wealth, anyway, and this will remind them of their place as much as it reminds him of his own.
Still, whenever his gaze falls upon a sunflower, he can’t help but feel like he’s attempting to fill shoes too big for him, even as a god that stands 11 feet tall; though so tall, he still walks in the shadow of the brightest goddess who has gone into slumber and whose image on murals and coins and such is still recognized. Joel turns away, unable to acknowledge the force and raw power of this goddess, striving to one day be as powerful and maybe to surpass her.
This child, he’ll claim, was his own volatile power manifesting when he took a liking to the protector of Sanctuary. But, as some mortals claim, all children come from a mother, and there was a sunflower nearby when this meeting took place and where Hermes came to life. Joel can’t help but feel slighted by the idea that the Mother of Sunflowers had awoken to give them this child and nothing more. How dare she interfere in his business? In his arrogance and vanity, he cannot see how he was correct to some degree - the child was indeed of his making, and the Mother of Sunflowers merely had lent him some extra power to make it work.
Sausage had immediately taken a liking to the child. It had not been something he had thought possible - the thought of establishing a family seems so far away with the kind of life he is forced to lead - but now it is present, it is more than welcome. Hermes is beloved by everyone in Sanctuary, unaware of the tragedy his father has lived through. His vigor and eagerness has taken the edge off of Sausage. More than once, he can find his son playing among the sunflowers. Sunflowers, which - although present in his former home - he had never felt as much of a connection to as when he moved here. The sunflowers calm him, tell him everything will be okay. Almost as if they manifest an invisible, unknowable friend that walks beside him and encourages him with every step he takes towards a better tomorrow.
Sometimes, he thinks of a life he’s never led. Sometimes, even from before he saw the mural, he sees this woman in a green dress, a sunflower in her hair, with the brightest smile. He’s not sure if this is his imagination running rampant or if someone wants to tell him something. Take care of the animals, a ghost whispers in his ear when he speaks with Pablo or Bubbles or any of the other animals running around in Sanctuary. Either way, more often than not, when clouds threaten to block out the sun and make the day more dreary, the sun shines through brighter. Sausage smiles and walks in her light, comforted by the warmth and this phantom presence by his side.
And somewhere out there, the Mother of Sunflowers herself watches as the world develops and grows and she smiles. Her friends are doing great and she can’t help but feel proud of them.