Solmara looks like joy from the water. Terraced gardens on old lava, golden temples above the harbors, and a festival calendar so full that visitors assume the islands never work. They work. They finish before sunset, because sunset is when the drums start.
The Solar Conclave runs the calendar and the calendar is the government. Festivals have not been missed in living memory, not for war, not for famine, not for a death in the ruling house. Attendance is counted. A family that stays home twice gets a visit from a priest, and the visit is not friendly.
The islands are free. Britannia has never sent a fleet, Arcadia has never sent a missionary, and nobody in the Conclave will say what deal keeps it that way. The one time in the old records that two festivals were skipped, three volcanoes went off in the same week.
A younger priest of the Golden Temple has started asking, quietly, what happens if the drums stop on purpose. Whatever sits in the heart of the temple, the dancing keeps it calm.
The archive for Solmara is still being assembled. Its figures, faiths, and stories will be added as this chapter of the world develops.
Explore other nationsNeighbouring Lands
The World Does Not End Here
Solmara is one thread in a larger story — the rest of the world waits beyond its borders.