Helia

the Lightbringer

"Parabola-linen crumbles in sunlight. The mushroom wines of the Neath congeal and sour. Thus, the power of the sun, the light, the flame, the sun, THE SUN, THE SUN!" To gaze into the sun, to forget for a moment the depths of the darkness which swallows the Neath... this is the dream of many, though the sun is naught but a distant memory in Fallen London's collective consciousness after the Fall. Helia is the goddess of light, flame, love and judgement, a source of brightness now lost. Only a few who witnessed the Fall still live, and their stories of the Surface and its light are so outlandish and fantastical it has become hard to discern fact from fiction. Though Helia's light is yearned for, fought for, and killed for, the light that so many seek brings death to much of what originates from the Neath. Even a small ray of this light is enough to break the unnatural vitality granted by Stone, turning to ash that which has exceeded its normal span of years. Perhaps it is for the best that Helia remains engrossed in the machinations beyond the Neath... or maybe, as some believe, there are other reasons that explain why she turns a blind and forgiving eye upon this dark pocket of the Universe. Those in the Order of the Scripture are Helia's most faithful adherents, and they continue to operate in Fallen London though recent discoveries (oh look, is that Hell right there?) have necessitated certain changes in doctrine and talking points. The Campaign of '18 was the Order's first and last attempt to solve this dilemma, and the resulting disaster led many to question whether Helia could still see her faithful.