Szorazzi
Legacy Name: Szorazzi

The Serpenth

Szorazzi did not resent the great god Azotclatl though they were both worshipped for their work in the fields. Humans were simple-minded creatures incapable of grasping the necessity of the spark of life she put in each seed while these infants of the growing world were still beneath the soil. It was when the green shoots broke through the earth that Azotclatl anointed them with his sacred breath so they would grow strong and proud, standing up to all but the worst winds sent for their destruction by the trickster Metzlcoan.

One every half-century or so she would grow bored with her life of skimming beneath the soil and doing her sworn duty. To keep the forces of Chaos from planting a seed of their own in her mind, she was allowed one avatar form which she could project on the surface of the world, allowing her to enjoy, if only for a brief time, the sensations known to mortals.

Her avatar was known as Cizarro. He was a particularly inquisitive spirit-man. She loved that about him and would guide him to the sweetest fruits so they could both enjoy the flavor.

Many moons passed in just this way, more than any mortal could count. The humans that had once worshipped the soil began to poison it. No amount of warning from the gods could stop the madness of the conquerors that came to place the native farmers in chains.

Szorazzi was accustomed to lesser offerings...but not to none at all. Even the great Azotclatl was suffering as the hoards of people that had once blessed his name were reduced by famine, disease and a war they could not hope to win. Azotclatl had no time to listen to the complaints of Szorazzi. He flitted from one former village to the next, his jaguar pelt hanging ever looser on his once-buff body. His thunderous voice was fallen to a choked whisper. Pretty soon, he did not even acknowledge Szorazzi when she spoke to him. He had tuned out all other sounds in hopes of catching even one feeble prayer to sustain him.

Szorazzi came to find she did not like being ignored. She had been warned at the Time of Making that her streak of temper would bring great change to her being. In that moment of utter solitude, she found the warning held less sway. She wanted to do something reckless. Maybe then she could return things to the way they were.

She tried to create storms, to rattle the nerves of the humans above and remind them why they'd started to worship the gods in the first place. The natives were too widespread and desperate to take note and the invaders were totally oblivious, believing the fierce winds and flashes of lightning to be merely another storm...perhaps one offered by the gods they'd brought with them. Szorazzi's next tactic was to stop the life in a quarter of the invaders' crops. Though they went hungry, they went right on building over and burning every sacred temple they stumbled upon.

Starved for attention and getting more lonely by the day, Szorazzi finally did the one thing lesser gods and goddesses are forbidden to do. She entered a time warp to another dimension.

Her body fell to the surface of a strange planet in a coil of purple and teal muscle and bone. On her home planet, the serpent had been her connection-symbol to humans. To take the shape of one must be a good omen, she reasoned.

She had landed beside a glorious tree heavy with fruit.

Ikumoradeekanox.

She instinctively knew the name of this beauty, just as she knew that to the creatures of this world, she was known as a serpenth.

A small dragon with flames running the length of his blue scales flew up and butted his head against her affectionately.

"Cizarro?"

In this world, her avatar was known as a minion. No longer a projection of her thoughts, he had become a creature in his own right, though he was every bit as loyal to her as if he still resided in some deep part of her form.

In Subeta she found diverse climates, foods and peoples that accepted her as one of their own and shared stories that made her wonder at the dramas of life. She relished this new way of living, though some large part of her heart yearned for the taste of the sweet ambrosia that flowed freely on her home world.

She waited for a night when the moon was full, by far the best night to practice light magic on any world. The teleportation spell still came readily to her lips, much to her relief.

Her life continues in this way, split between the dying world she left behind and the vibrant one teeming with life that is not quite hers. Whether she will ever settle into a form and give up her wandering ways, only she can say.

Credits

Profile Code by: Ringo
Extra Code by:
Tashamon & Bug
Edited by: Chrysariel
Story by: Pureflower
Overlay by: EmphasisMine
Recolor by: Morse and Chrysariel
Mayan Book by: slotstory
Mayan Pyramid by: medecineman
Mayan Calendar by: vector.me
Name Art by: Chrysariel