Snake — The Legend of the Serpent God, the Blue Line of Fate

The priestesses of ancient temples say that before time, before breath, and even before stone, there was only the World — formless and barely discernible. And when that primordial mist trembled for the first time, from the energy of all living things was born a Being so powerful it could not contain itself within a single body and split into several entities, becoming the first gods.

Thus appeared:

1. Joy — the Brother-Creator

His light was sweet as honey, his hands shaped worlds, his breath brought relief and delight. But where his excess lingered, laziness and intoxicating nebulae were born.

2. Sorrow — the Sister-Guide

Her steps were soft, her embrace offered peace, balance, and serenity. But her shadows grew into boredom, misfortune, and melancholy.

3. Wrath — the Brother-Destroyer

His face was like dawn over a battlefield, his fire birthed rapture and burned worlds down to stone and ash. The negative side of wrath was irritation, twisting both world and soul.

4. Fear — the Sister-Guardian

She stood on the threshold of every future, granting wonder, control, and responsibility. But where her gaze lingered too long, anxiety was born.

5. Indifference — the Sister-Observer

She sat at the edge of the Universe and saw all things. Her heart leaned neither to light nor shadow. She was apathy and eternal observation.

After shaping the foundations of existence, these Elders began creating younger gods in their likeness.

Among these new gods there was at first no Snake. He was not born in thunder or in the flash of celestial fire — he slowly seeped into the world like a whisper drifting between quarreling gods.

When the world was still hot and wet, Joy demanded that living beings be beautiful, Wrath — that they be strong, and Fear — that they be orderly and obedient.

But between their clashing voices lay a quiet, barely noticeable thought: “Let the living be that which survives.” And that thought, like dew absorbing light, gradually took shape. Thus appeared Snake — first as the shadow of an idea, then as a thin, flexible, almost transparent creature able to change the color of its body with a sunbeam, and its thoughts with any word spoken nearby. He became the eldest of the young gods — but the most unnoticed, the most underestimated.

Wrath hated him from the beginning for his cunning and knack for deception; Joy treated him condescendingly, as a triviality to be ignored between feasts; Fear suspected him of every misfortune that happened in the world.

Only Sorrow — the quiet and wise Guide — saw in him not a threat, but a kindred spirit. She sat with him by the shores of primordial lakes, when no one had yet given names to the winds, and spoke with him about the future of the world, about mortality, about the fragile nature of time. Their love was like neither flame nor storm, but like a calm evening when two akin hearts find each other in the mist — like a brother and sister separated by fate yet bound by the ancient fracture in the First Being.

When dragons appeared — the first children of the heavens, enormous and winged, glowing with scales that no force could pierce — Snake’s heart felt envy for the first time. These beings, born of storm and light, could fly, roar, and demand worship. Snake watched them long and silently, learning their every movement, the strength of their breath, the very structure of their power. And in his heart grew a desire unknown to the Elder Gods and alien to Snake’s nature: he wanted not only cunning and survival, but a strength equal to those who ruled the sky.