In the City of Fire Protection, sunlight slanted across the palace corridor, casting shadows of columns that stretched like steps along the walkway.
Alpens erged from his bedchamber, his towering figure frad in the doorway as the morning sun climbed slowly skyward. Yet beneath his imposing presence lurked an unmistakable weariness of twilight years.
So things remained beyond the reach of willpower and stubbornness. For mortals, the decay and deterioration of the body proved an insurmountable tide.
A servant approached with a water basin, informing Alpens it was ti for his morning ablutions.
Alpens dipped his hands into the basin, splashing water across his face with deliberate motions. Gripping the basin’s edges, he studied his reflection in the rippling surface.
As the waters stilled, his image gradually crystallized into focus.
“Truly, I have grown old.”
Though his bearing remained regal and unwavering, the weight of his one hundred and twenty years had left its mark. Wrinkles and age spots had steadily claid territory across his form. Few snake people reached such venerable age. He knew the mortal portion of his body had decayed like crumbling wood, held together only by the blood-red marking on his back that acted as divine glue, forcibly binding the withered fragnts of his form.
“The ti approaches to pay the final price.”
Facing death’s gradual approach, Alpens let out a hearty laugh. He harbored no regrets, for his life had been filled with glory. Everything he had wished to accomplish, everything within his power, he had achieved.
Gazing into his watery reflection, he watched as his image seed to grow younger. White hair regained its color, wrinkles and age spots retreated until he beheld himself as the warrior of his pri.
In those days, he had been the city’s renowned champion, defeating warrior after warrior of great renown until becoming captain of the Fire Guardians’ personal guard.
He had weathered rebellion, witnessed the Fire Guardian family’s decline, and journeyed to the Mountain of Life’s Origin seeking his conviction and future.
In an age of chaos, he had forged alliances with village after town, protecting common folk who could not resist the herding tribes’ raiders. Eventually, he established the Suinhor City-State.
Wherever he went, thousands rallied to his call.
The title of hero seed crafted specifically for him.
Alpens leaned closer with clouded eyes, straining to see more clearly.
His hand trembled, sending ripples across the surface.
The image shattered.
Alpens shook his head. “What a glorious life it has been!”
“If only I could crown it with one final achievent.”
He dismissed the servants and walked toward his council chamber.
The final achievent he spoke of naturally concerned the matter of succession.
His son Srkel was by all asures an excellent heir, yet having grown up within palace walls, he fell short of Alpens who had erged from blood and fire. This was especially true regarding strength of character.
Still, Alpens hoped Srkel would co to understand his responsibilities as heir to the Suinhor City-State of his own accord, that he would willingly shoulder this burden.
But ti grew short, and Alpens could no longer wait.
Regardless of Srkel’s wishes, he must inherit the throne.
He needed to bring Srkel ho.
Seated at his desk, he called for his court attendant: “Summon the Chancellor.”
The attendant spoke carefully: “My King.”
“The Chancellor has passed away, and you have not yet appointed a successor.”
Only then did Alpens rember that his Chancellor of many years had died earlier that year. He had not yet grown accustod to this companion’s absence from his side.
Alpens fell silent once more, waving the attendant away.
The Divine Blessed King leaned back in his chair, lost in quiet contemplation.
Suddenly, commotion from outside interrupted his thoughts.
Alpens walked out to investigate the source of cheering and shouting.
“What is happening?”
While those around him remained uncertain and one servant moved to investigate, a ssenger burst through the crowd.
“My King!” The ssenger called out breathlessly, joy illuminating his features. “His Highness has returned!”
A warmth of paternal pride suffused Alpens’s weathered countenance.
The Suinhor City-State had only one “His Highness” Prince Srkel.
Upon hearing of his son’s return, Alpens did not rush to et him. Instead, he returned to his chamber.
He tidied his disheveled hair, then sat at his desk organizing wooden tablets carved with text and examining a leather-bound volu.
The sounds outside grew louder but quieted as they reached his door.
Srkel stepped into the chamber with asured grace, his eyes eting his father’s with quiet determination.
Only then did the Divine Blessed King Alpens raise his head to look at him, saying simply: “You have returned.”
Prince Srkel nodded: “Father, I have returned.”
Alpens beckoned him to sit at the table.
He studied his son, then broke into hearty laughter.
“You look well.”
“Your skin has darkened considerably. Now you truly appear a man.”
Srkel replied: “The outside world differs greatly from palace life.”
Alpens responded: “Yet fierce beasts are born in the jungle. Only creatures ant for food dwell contentedly in pens.”
He then inquired about other matters, first eyeing the large basket Srkel had brought, filled with various items.
“What have you brought back? Tell
of your experiences these past years.”
Srkel began removing items from his basket: a leather flask of sweet wine, his beloved harp, the Sun Cup flower Iva had given him, and a plant called rope vine.
He displayed each item in turn, beginning with his harp.
“I purchased this harp in Black Swamp City, the first city I visited. I felt lost then, but the city was holding a sacrificial ceremony for the gods, so I participated with this harp.”
“I even composed a poem, though not a very good one.”
Srkel described his feelings at the ti, the city’s grand ceremony, the flas that reached dozens of ters high.
Alpens listened silently, neither speaking nor interrupting, simply absorbing his son’s words.
Next, Srkel produced the leather flask, offering his father a taste of the wine within. This ca from Maya City, where Srkel had spent considerable ti.
Maya City was the largest city in the Suinhor City-State after the City of Fire Protection. They were deeply religious, frequently holding ceremonial offerings.
The city consulted the gods on many matters, letting divine will guide their decisions though in truth these revelations ca through chance divination.
Because of their frequent offerings to the gods, wine proved essential, making Maya City’s wine the finest in the city-state.
Srkel spoke of conditions in Maya City, dismissing their divination practices as re tricks employed by the city lord.
Then Srkel presented the rope vine plant, his expression growing serious.
“I discovered this in a village near Black Swamp City’s coastal swamps. The locals call it rope vine.”
“They make rope unlike anything we use, composed of countless strands finer than hair twisted together. They also weave it into nets for fishing in rivers and the sea.”
“This rope vine provides the material for their ropes and nets.”
The plant’s fibers separated easily while maintaining impressive strength, making them ideal for creating fabric and nets. Srkel found the plant fascinating upon its discovery.
He then produced examples of locally made nets and ropes, along with a small piece of cloth he had commissioned.
To call it cloth seed generous, given its large holes.
Alpens examined the items, noting their unique construction.
He asked Srkel: “You see great potential in this?”
Srkel nodded: “Initially I saw no special use for it, but recently I t soone wearing magnificent clothing…”
He paused.
He felt calling them a “person” might sohow profane their nature.
“After seeing Them, I realized this material could create more than ropes and nets. Perhaps we could weave it into cloth for clothing, blankets, bags, and other items.”
“This is sothing we need, sothing that could transform our lives.”
Though the Snake Mother Shelly had created snake people using lizards as material, their primary template ca from humans, or rather, the race of gods.
Thus they were not cold-blooded but warm-blooded creatures.
Snake people living in the warr southern regions maintained their primitive appearance, relying on fire and shelter when temperatures dropped.
Those dwelling further north wore leather clothing.
Alpens listened intently as his son shared his thoughts. Though Srkel had wandered these years, he had not wasted his ti.
He had truly observed every city in the Suinhor City-State, coming to understand their nation completely.
After listening, Alpens spoke earnestly: “Snake Mother Sermos received divine cloth as a blessing from the Creator God.”
“Your discovery of this material and vision for creating fabric shows great promise.”
“Since you have both ideas and capability.”
“Now you must bring your vision to reality.”
Srkel looked at his father: “Yes, Father.”
“That is my intention.”
A smile crossed Alpens’s face, recognizing that Srkel had resolved himself to accepting the throne.
“And what is this?”
Alpens had noticed the peculiar flower, nearly half a ter long and sowhat wilted.
As he leaned closer to examine this unfamiliar plant, it suddenly sprang to life, nearly snapping off his nose.
Though aged, Alpens retained his instincts and experience, reflexively dodging away.
The elderly Divine Blessed King started in surprise but quickly broke into thunderous laughter.
“Hahahaha!”
Alpens found genuine amusent in the mighty Divine Blessed King being startled by a re plant.
“What manner of thing is this? It actually tries to bite?”
Srkel joined in the laughter, for both he and his father shared the Life Ability’s symbiosis. Even if the Sun Cup had bitten them, it would cause no real harm.
However, when explaining the flower’s origins, Srkel’s expression grew solemn.
“Father,” Srkel’s voice carried a weight of profound revelation. “I must share with you a tale that transcends all others from my journey, one that defies mortal understanding.”
Alpens imdiately asked with keen interest: “Could this involve the magnificently clothed being you ntioned?”
He had sensed sothing unusual when Srkel first spoke of this encounter.
Soone wearing magnificent clothing was rarely seen in their age.
Srkel’s lips curved in a wry smile: “Being?”
He shook his head: “Though They never stated it directly, I could sense Their divine nature.”
Srkel’s voice grew hoarse with emotion as he prepared to share his tale.
“They are a deity.”
Srkel gazed at his father, his expression transforming as his eyes reflected once more the profound awe of witnessing the Gate of Desire, the star sea, and the Divine Boat.
“A deity.”
“One who dwells in the Creator God’s realm.”
Alpens rose abruptly: “A deity?”
He had never imagined that after his own encounter with divinity, his son would also et a deity. Moreover, from Srkel’s description, this being was clearly not the Scarlet Witch from the Blood Kingdom of the Deep Sea.
Realizing the intensity of his reaction, Alpens slowly lowered himself back into his seat.
Only then did Srkel continue.
“Their sacred na is Iva.”
“When I encountered Them, They sat alone beside a campfire in an uninhabited forest. One look told
of Their extraordinary nature, and curiosity drew
closer.”
Srkel gradually unfolded the sacred tale of his encounter in the jungle.
“…”
Srkel’s voice carried a reverent whisper as he continued, “Iva revealed to
the mysteries of dawn’s first light. When white traces appear on the horizon, the Divine Boat begins its journey back to God’s realm. Only aboard this resplendent vessel, wreathed in golden light and bearing the essence of miracles, can mortals cross the threshold into that sacred world.”
He recounted how he stepped upon the Gate of Desire, how he and the mythical being called Iva boarded the Divine Boat that traversed reality and illusion.
He described witnessing the true realm of God, seeing the dreams of all living beings filling the celestial vault.
He spoke of his journey through the dream star sea, telling how he saw not only the fallen people of Moon Light City but also his forr friend Luqi.
Alpens sat transfixed, wonder spreading across his features as each revelation unfolded before him.
He knew of the Creator God’s realm.
Snake people mythology contained records of this place, speaking of how the Mother of Life traveled between realms aboard her divine vessel through the Tower of Heaven.
Legend told of countless wonders there, how the faithful who died believing in the gods could attain everything they desired in that world.
This was the sacred realm that even Snake Mother Sermos had yearned to enter for countless years without success.
Alpens learned for the first ti what awaited mortals after death, discovered the final destination of all living souls.
Like Srkel, he felt overwheld. Though he could not see that boundless star sea himself, Srkel’s description alone conveyed the profound weight and pressure of this ultimate harbor for all existence, this final refuge of civilization.
“So the destination of common folk after death is an infinite sea of stars.”
“When each mortal reaches their end, they face judgnt granted by God. A weighing of good and evil, with each soul ultimately determining their own fate.”
“This judgnt.”
“It is not God who judges mortals, but mortals who judge themselves.”
“Each must face their entire life, confront their evil and goodness, acknowledge their rits and faults.”
For reasons he could not explain, Alpens felt this form of judgnt seed unlike the Mother of Life from their mythology. It bore more resemblance to another deity’s will.
Srkel told Alpens: “The deity I t revealed that all this originated from sacred beings called spirits, with the most powerful spirit being Hila, sovereign of dreams.”
“They govern all dreams, and that star sea exists through Their power.”
“They once blessed all living things, hoping that every existence, every life that walked the world would leave its mark, transford eternally into stars accompanying the Creator.”
“This Sun Cup flower stands as symbol and proof of these sacred spirits.”
Srkel’s voice softened with reverence as he shared the flower’s sacred purpose. “Iva told
that when those pure of heart offer their wishes to this flower, the spirits of God’s realm may grant their divine blessing.”
Finally Alpens understood why this thod of judgnt had seed discordant with the Mother of Life’s image from mythology.
“So this trial was established by such beautiful and pure sacred spirits. No wonder it takes this form.”
He repeated Srkel’s words, that phrase that filled him with boundless wonder.
“They hoped that every existence, every life that walked the world would leave its mark, transford eternally into stars accompanying the Creator.”
“If every life could end thus, finding such a beautiful destination.”
“Truly…”
“How wonderful.”
They did not know that the Creator Iva spoke of was not the Mother of Life. The Creator whom Dream Sovereign Hila wished all souls to accompany as stars was nad Yinsai.
The judgnt of life’s dreams ca from His will.
After Srkel’s return, Alpens began gradually transferring power to him.
Srkel appointed an energetic middle-aged man as Chancellor to assist in governing affairs.
The once carefree wanderer Srkel grew incredibly busy, lacking even ti to play his beloved harp.
Many matters Alpens had handled with ease proved thorny for Srkel, requiring great ti and repeated consultation with his ministers.
Yet he continued to grow.
One day.
The aging Divine Blessed King Alpens lay in bed, feeling his thoughts sinking deeper as ethereal, prolonged calls reached his ears.
These calls seed to co from another world, penetrating space itself to echo within his mind.
“Alpens!”
“Alpens!”
“Ti… has co.”
“Co… co… co…”
The fragnted voice resonated through a vast emptiness, accompanied by faint sounds of oceanic tides.
Consciousness returned to Alpens with the weight of destiny, his eyes opening to embrace the inevitable.
He lay motionless, yet understood what approached.
Those voices were deities calling to him.
After a long while, he finally rose from his bed.
He walked slowly from his bedchamber into the outside world.
Alpens watched as mist gradually spread throughout the palace. Blood Mist Cups blood across the earth, their blood-red petals swaying in the fog, radiating the light of both death and life.
Dense fog shrouded the world, seemingly isolating the palace from reality itself.
Others within the palace erged as well, including Prince Srkel.
“Fog? Where did such heavy fog co from?” The prince wondered greatly, for dawn remained far off and it was not yet ti for fog to gather.
“Look there, the King has awakened,” soone noticed the fog slowly turning, with Alpens at its center.
“This fog seems strange.” At its edges lay endless darkness.
“Listen, do you hear sothing?”
Within that darkness stood a faintly visible lighthouse, emanating crimson radiance.
Gradually, they heard countless voices chanting in strange, particular tones.
These sounds could not co from snake people, nor was the language theirs, yet sohow they understood its aning.
“Ruler of the Blood Kingdom of the Deep Sea, great Blood Progenitor, Queen of the Most Ancient Race.”
“Life… life’s origin, servant of the Mother Goddess…”
“All shall return to… billions of years past.”
These were divine nas, divine titles.
Suddenly, Prince Srkel understood what this ant.
He rushed forward, reaching the steps below the bedchamber.
Looking up, he called out to his father.
“Father.”
Alpens gazed down at his son, wearing the sa hearty smile as always.
“When winds rose, I was the hero of the age.”
“But now, the winds have stilled.”
“My era ends, having lived my glorious life complete.”
“Srkel.”
“From here on, it falls to you.”
Under everyone’s gaze, Alpens stepped into the mist where Blood Mist Cups swayed.
He departed for the Blood Kingdom of the Deep Sea, fulfilling at last the ancient covenant that bound his mortal form to divine purpose.
Srkel watched the mist slowly dissipate, watched his father vanish into darkness, standing motionless for long monts.
He felt an emptiness in his heart as the world’s darkness and night’s cold winds steadily eroded his being.
Then dawn broke over the horizon, its golden rays piercing through shadow and sorrow alike, bearing whispers of renewal and hope.
Everyone welcod the new day, for though loss carved deep wounds in mortal hearts, ti’s gentle tide brought healing and change, washing away the old to make space for new beginnings.
Srkel beca the second Divine Blessed King of Suinhor.
He summoned people from that village outside Black Swamp City to cultivate rope vine, learning their thods and techniques as he encouraged farrs to plant the crop extensively.
He gathered craftsn from the City of Fire Protection, having them transform primitive thods into more efficient techniques for weaving fabric.
He expanded Suinhor City-State’s agricultural advantages, bringing clothing to common folk.
Cloth gradually beca the most common item in snake people’s daily lives.
He implented a system of gold, silver, and copper currency, changing the previous barter-based trade. Though it could not completely replace bartering, it introduced new modes of exchange.
More rchants erged as a result, making the Suinhor City-State increasingly prosperous.
Srkel’s series of initiatives brought new changes to the Suinhor City-State.
In the years that followed, tensions long simring beneath Sains City’s surface finally erupted into open rebellion, guided by Srkel’s subtle hand.
Srkel personally led soldiers to quell the uprising, returning victorious as expected, handling this greatest internal threat.
Upon his return, he rode his war chariot through the streets.
A scholar waited for him in the street’s center, holding the fruits of a new innovation: scrolls crafted from cloth.
The scholar lifted one reverently. Unlike the traditional beast hide books, these new scrolls represented the dawn of a new age, their lighter form promising to carry knowledge further than ever before.
The scholar approached the chariot, bowing respectfully to Srkel.
“Divine Blessed King.”
“We present this poem in your honor.”
The poem was titled: “Divine Blessing.”
Harp lody filled the air.
The lengthy poem told Srkel’s story.
Most importantly, it recounted Srkel’s legendary journey to God’s realm, his passage through the star sea ford of life’s dreams, his voyage aboard the Divine Boat that traversed dream realm and reality.
The tale contained both rulers and deities.
It explored the final destination of all living souls and spoke of the world’s most beautiful blessing.
The harp’s ethereal notes carried listeners into that mythic journey, each heart yearning to glimpse the wonders Srkel had witnessed.
Srkel too recalled those mories.
When he returned to awareness, he realized this scene mirrored exactly his father King Alpens’s return long ago.
Srkel smiled as well, adopting his father’s manner of speech.
“I greatly appreciate this. Let us…”
He had ant to say “carve it upon stone tablets.”
But changed his mind mid-thought: “Compile these poems into a book, then send it to every city in the Suinhor City-State, letting all our people know of it.”
The poem spread across the land, and through “Divine Blessing” people learned of spirits’ existence, of death’s secrets and final destinations.
That line: “They hoped that every existence, every life that walked the world would leave its mark, transford eternally into stars accompanying the Creator.”
Beca the finest wish and blessing they had ever heard.
It was also the world’s greatest divine gift.
Dream Sovereign Hila’s divine na began spreading everywhere, as stories of wishes and spirits gradually beca known to all.
Iva never imagined that a chance encounter with one person, a casual conversation, would set in motion the first step of their mission.
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