In a land where ancient beasts ascended into godhood, a great serpent laid claim to an expanse of islands. Like its peers in godhood, the great serpent selected a group of lesser species and ascended them into sapient.
A civilization, the Naga empire, was born. On its highest throne sat the Great Serpent, unchained by time and by fate.
Below the lording Serpent, grovelling elves, the Serpent's servants, paid tribute and worship.
On one particular festival in the name of Feathered one, the ceremony dancer caught the eyes of his lord and master.
After that consummate night, elven officers would find a charming flower besides the eternal throne of their Feathered lord.
Many centuries came and went. What was once eternal abruptly met its end.
The lovely accessories to the Imperial chamber of the Naga was still there but the seat of its Mightiness was found empty.
A ceremony dancer, a term not far from an inner chamber whore. Without the center of power weighing down the balance of the empire, many of common and noble birth had whispered blasphemous rumours of the flower being free for the taking. Little did they know, their little whispers were the last straw to begin a bloody regime of the Flower.
Once they called him, the toy of the god. Now none dared to meet the Regent Lord eyes to eyes.
"The lord Naga is absent but take it to your heart, you, your family, your descendants, and those after them only had one lord to serve. It was not any of the other gods of old, not the oppressing Jaguar to the South, not the bountiful and merciful Chestnut. Your loyalty and prayer are only for the Great Serpent. Our dominion is without his blessing right now but sway not your faith in his return. For that is your only promise of prosperity and living."
That declaration stood strong even to the next millennium. The will that held the empire together appeared strong in the eyes of the outsiders. Nobody knew it was filled with love and grief.
Every year, the ceremony dance would continue to be performed by the one Flower of the Serpent. The cover of the night veiled many things, even the jewel-like tears of a bleeding heart.
