I Am Elias Rose

I wasn’t born in any place you'd find on a star chart.

I bloomed beneath the Lavender Aurora, in the bioluminescent wetlands of Lúmora—a moon where the plants hum lullabies and the water reflects your truest self. My skin shimmered with soft lavender tones, constellations danced across my arms like birthmark galaxies, and my eyes—would change colors.

My family, the House of Syphirian, were keepers of artisan beauty. Curators. Archivists. Archaeologists,  and Keeper of Galaxies Histories. They can be, cold as crystal. They wanted me to become another polished artifact in their collection—refined, silent, useful. But from the moment I could hold pigment in my hands, I rebelled. I painted emotions, not tradition. I sculpted feelings too raw to be approved. I wanted mess, honesty, and truth. They didn’t.

So I wandered. I slipped through alleyways pulsing with queer music, unique stickers, underground fashionistas, and neon anarchists. That’s where I found it—my first banned human book. Tattered, smuggled, nearly falling apart. It was called Gender Queer That book changed everything. It didn’t just show me. It told me everything that I need to know when it came to expressing the power of words. 

That became my start to a new beginning.

I left my family before they could seal me behind glass. Literally. (It was part of a tradition.) I started to build my first boutique in a junked crater with broken android parts, shattered mosaic, and glowing mushrooms that sing when touched. It wasn’t a business. It was a sanctuary. A beginning. A safe house for anyone who felt too weird, too queer, too much.

I called it Elias Rose Boutique.