The Grove of the Heavens serves as stewards of sacred places scattered across the celestial realms. These druids tend radiant gardens, guard sanctified groves, and guide divine life that blooms in the upper planes. Their power flows from harmony, light, and the ever-turning stars. Though peaceful in duty, they are fierce when defending the balance of sacred order.
These druids cultivate flora fed by starlight and divine winds. Their gardens brim with glowing petals, silverfruit, and roots that sing with memory. They heal with radiant herbs, nurture rebirth among the heavens, and ensure the cycle of life continues unmarred. Celestial animals—phoenix-deer, halo owls, or scaled lambs—gather under their care.
In Zin, the Grove’s emissaries keep vigil at the Orchard of Aenhar, a divine sanctuary rooted in fallen comet-stone. Here blooms the Everfruit, guarded by druids cloaked in golden moss. It is said the druids here once restored a broken angel using a single seed and breath drawn beneath a triple eclipse.
Wherever heaven touches soil, these druids are found. They sanctify the perimeters of fallen temples, restore sacred wells, and watch over crumbling altars with reverence. Their magic wards holy sites against corruption, repairs defiled wards, and shields sacred spaces with lightwoven roots. With whispered rites, they renew celestial pacts and preserve divine memory.
These druids can read constellations like ancient texts, divining omens and guiding lost souls through astral crossings. When celestial alignments shift, they act—ushering spirits to rest, marking divine births, or correcting imbalances between heaven and the material world. Some even walk with seraphs across starbridges, gathering wisdom from dying suns and dawnborn stars.
Their power is not wild but refined, channeling peace, clarity, and radiance. They exude calm in battle, project sanctifying auras, and bring down wrath not from rage but from divine justice. Their magic binds wounds, repels undead, and purges corruption through brilliance and balance. Light clings to their footprints, and serenity follows their steps.
Each druid of this grove bears a spark of ancestral light—memories of past lives touched by the heavens. Some manifest visions of divine events, others speak forgotten tongues, or weep golden tears. Their spells often manifest as wings, halos, or glyphs formed of fireflies and stardust, marking them as chosen caretakers of cosmic sanctity.