Morgan was fascinated. There was something about that story that stirred something deep within him, a feeling that wasn't entirely new, yet one he hadn't experienced in a long time. It was the same sensation that used to fill his chest when he was a child and his grandmother or father would sit beside him and tell him stories that were painful and wondrous at the same time. Stories that were not mere tales. Stories that carried weight.
Xol noticed his silence, noticed the way he was looking at him, and for the first time since he had begun speaking, something in him changed. It wasn't the same confident, distant tone as always. There was something else now, something he seemed to drag along with him, like someone carrying a stone they had borne for far too long.
"After that, no one ever saw the serpent again. Neither gods nor men. Among the others, debates began. Demands. Judgments. Many called for his execution. Others believed that would be too much, even after what he had done. And the jaguar, of course, watched it all with a satisfaction he made no effort to hide. At last. At last his brother was no longer there, taking what he believed should have been his.
Unable to find the serpent or even know where to begin searching, the gods made their decision: absolute exile. From the divine world and from the world of men. No return.
The jaguar descended into the mortal world feeling, for the first time in his existence, like the only one. The heir to everything. He arrived expecting adoration, open arms, a people ready to recognize him as their new lord.
What he found left him speechless.
Men did not hate his brother. They mourned him. They prayed, begged, danced, and raised their eyes to the heavens searching for a sign that he was still there, that one day he would return. They had not forgotten him. They never would.
And that shattered something inside the jaguar that would never heal.
Because in that moment he understood that no matter what he did, there was no power great enough to tear that love from the hearts of men.
And then it returned. That dark feeling he knew so well. That darkness that was not hatred, but something worse. Blinded by it, he committed the act he would regret for all eternity.
He traveled the world in the form of a man. He spoke. He persuaded. He told them of lands overflowing with riches, of places beyond the horizon, of glory and gold. And he spoke with enough conviction that some listened.
He failed to grasp the weight of what he was setting in motion.
Those who believed him sailed to those distant lands. And what happened afterward can only be described as horrifying. The people who arrived on those ships swept through everything. The city that had once overflowed with life, color, and history was stained with the blood of its own children. What had taken centuries to build took far less time to burn.
Some gods wished to intervene. They wished to descend and protect those they considered their own. But the primordial gods forbade it. That world belonged to mankind now, they said. What was happening was the consequence of humanity's own choices, of the freedom they themselves had been granted. And if this was part of the course of their history, however horrible and painful it might be, then so it had to be.
So the gods could do nothing but watch.
Watch as everything burned. Watch as blood covered what had once been sacred. Watch the end of an entire age without being able to do anything but bear witness.
And the jaguar watched as well.
He remained still. Motionless. His face solemn, his eyes fixed upon what his own hands had set into motion without anyone forcing him to do so. And slowly, without even seeming to notice at first, tears began to fall.
That was the day a god wept.
The only day. The first and the last.
End of Chapter.