Sanctity Lost

There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. But it would certainly have seemed that way to almost anyone. The dragons were born second only to the primal deities, and of course to the Creator God. They were the firstborn children of Nature, and as such took on certain qualities of her. There was Water and Wind, Earth and Fire, Summer and Winter, Light and Dark. From these original eight, the lesser dragons were born, but it was only these primal ones who were recognized by humans as worthy gods.

Indeed, following their own creation, the first interaction humans had with the divine was through the dragons. And so, it was to them that nymphaea were constructed, from grand, elaborate temples to small highway shrines, with none of the first generation of dragons overlooked. Around the larger structures, entire cities would sometimes spring up; thus, there came to be the City of Summer, the City of Light, and so on.

It was the dragons that the humans worshipped most devoutly. As far as they were concerned, there had always been dragons in the Great Valley, and these magnificent beings had created the order of the universe. This was, in fact, a terrible irony. For it was from the primal deities that the humans had sprung; they were simply the lesser offspring born from the same greater beings.

It was the greatest tragedy of the gods that had produced the human race. Time, perhaps the least understood of these deities, found himself struck with a wild passion for the fair goddess Life. She was swayed by his entreaties, and the two began a grand love affair. Before long, Life revealed to Time that she was with child. At first, he was thrilled, but as the moment drew near for Life to give birth, her health rapidly deteriorated. Finally, as she brought forth the human race, her spirit waned, and she passed on into nothingness. As Time knelt by her side and witnessed the first demise of a god, he was torn within himself by grief, and in a burst of cosmic energy, his being split into two, as a new invention had been conceived in the universe: Death.

This new deity, sprung from this moment of heartbreak, became the true governor of the existence of the humans. Time, ever tortured by the loss of Life, could not help but cling to his children, always surrounding them. However, wherever he went, Death followed, a curse on the human race. The humans, burdened as they were by mortality, lived in ignorance of this divine tragedy, choosing instead to worship the dragons, because that was all they knew.

But the closeness of the dragons and the humans was not viewed favorably by the old gods. Many blamed the humans for the death of Life and held a sore grudge against them. Others resented the lack of worship they received. To solve the, the quiet god Strength created the race of dwarves, a reclusive people to whom he gave an intimate knowledge of the primal deities. However, Malice devised a more destructive solution.

Malice compelled a group of human hunters to pursue a small lesser dragon in the woods of the Great Valley. Such an act was inconceivable to most humans, as the dragons were all regarded as sacred gods or nymphs. But, urged on by a more primal force, the hunters attacked and killed the dragon.

The situation quickly escalated, as other lesser dragons sought revenge against the hunters, and members of both races ended up dead. Word of this event quickly reached the ears of the primal dragons, as well as the leaders of the human race. Attempts were made to quell the rising passions, but it was already too late. The sanctity of the dragons had been breached. Attacks were made by both races against the other as matters escalated towards war. In the end, the dragons, who certainly would have been victorious, instead chose to withdraw, falling back from the humans and hiding away in sacred places, only to be spotted occasionally in the Great Valley.

And so, the humans had fought their gods and so doing had lost their religion. The old nymphaea fell into disuse. Some were destroyed, but others remained, turning into ruins or being lost from memory. Malice had triumphed. Disillusioned with their false gods, the humans sought other powers, and it was here that the pantheon of the primal deities began to evince their power. As the years passed, new rituals and practices were developed to honor these gods.

But the dragons, now reclusive, remained ever in the shadows, watching from the edges of their Valley. Resentment grew. The dragons desired power, they desired to be worshipped, they desired to overcome the primal deities from which they and their rivals had sprung. However, the dragons were also patient. Generations of the humans came and went, all equally cursed by Death. But the dragons lived on, knowing that one day, they would reemerge.