Barata

Barata

Appearance

Barata's true form is regal yet lethargic, draped in flowing red robes that shimmer like twilight fire. His hair falls in wild crimson strands, his golden eyes heavy-lidded with drowsy light. In his hands rests a harp of golden strings, etched with symbols that shift like drifting dreams. Around him floats a haze of glowing embers, dim yet hypnotic, making the air itself seem thick with exhaustion. His aura presses down on all who stand near, coaxing even gods into slumber — all save Inaroth, whom it cannot touch.

Personality

Detached, languid, and indifferent, Barata speaks rarely and moves even less. He carries himself with a quiet inevitability, as though nothing in the world is worth struggle. Yet beneath his apathy lies authority, for no mortal or god can deny sleep, hunger, or emotion. He is neither cruel nor kind — he simply does not care. To him, dreams are truer than waking, and struggle is wasted effort.

History

Mortal Life

Barata was born into wealth and safety, the son of a noble house that expected greatness. But where his siblings chased glory, study, and ambition, Barata did nothing. He spent his youth in bed, eyes half-closed, drifting between dreams and waking with no desire to move. Tutors despaired, parents raged, rivals mocked him — but Barata's only answer was silence, or the strumming of his harp as he sang himself back into slumber.

He had no loves, no enemies, no ambitions. His body was strong, his mind clever, but both wasted in apathy. While wars were fought and fortunes rose and fell, Barata dreamed. To those around him, he was not a man but a ghost — alive, yet absent, forever asleep to the world.

The Descent into Darkness

When famine came to his homeland, others struggled, fought, and sacrificed. But Barata neither wept nor worked. He let hunger gnaw at the people around him, but he never lifted a hand. Even when his family's estate crumbled, he slept through the cries, the accusations, the despair.

When confronted, Barata only murmured: 'The world always hungers. Better to dream than to suffer.' His words spread as a curse. Some despised him, others envied him, but none could change him. His apathy deepened into something darker — a rejection of the very idea of struggle, a conviction that life's needs were chains, and that only dreams were eternal.

In the end, he wasted away. Not through violence or rebellion, but through indifference. His life was not taken — it was surrendered.

Rebirth as a God

Kirata saw not weakness, but inevitability. All beings sleep, all yield to need, and even gods dream. In Barata's apathy, Kirata saw the purest truth: that no ambition or power endures against the weight of slumber.

He awoke in the void, his body remade in regal indolence. Crimson hair burned like fading sunset, his eyes glowed with heavy gold, and in his hands rested a harp whose strings resonated with dreams. Each note he plucked spread silence and drowsiness, bending mortals and gods alike into slumber. His very presence thickened the air, turning resolve into exhaustion.

He wandered the void not in search, but in drift — sleeping beneath dead stars, dreaming in shadows, until at last he arrived at Kirata's throne. There he claimed the sixth seat to the right, not with triumph, but with weary acceptance, as though it had always belonged to him.

Role and Current State

As the Seventh Moon, Barata embodies sleep, dreams, emotions, and mortal needs. His aura drains the will of armies, stills the cries of children, and weaves the desires of mortals into illusions that feel more real than waking life. His harp is not weapon but law — its chords binding creation to silence and rest.

He can only be glimpsed in the Abyss during July, when mortals fall into dreams touched by his will. To some he is comfort, to others despair, for his domain is the reminder that no strength, no hunger, no glory escapes the weight of slumber.

Synopsis

The Seventh Moon of the Abyss, Barata is the god of sleep, dreams, and mortal needs. In life he wasted away in apathy, choosing to dream rather than act. In death, Kirata remade him into the eternal weight of slumber, his harp weaving dreams that bind mortals and gods alike.

Trivia

Barata is the only Moon whose power is a necessity of life rather than a weapon.

He mutters fragments of dreams instead of speaking clearly, often unsettling even his fellow Moons.

His harp's music is said to stop entire armies in their tracks, forcing them into dream-states.

Inaroth is uniquely unaffected by his aura, a fact that both frustrates and fascinates him.

Mortals often confuse his presence for comfort, not realizing it is also despair — for he binds them to needs they cannot escape.