We are Ouroborous, the core of a world unheeded by those who walk upon our scales, thinking it is the the earth beneath their feet. We are the coiled serpent within the ground, yet we are the foundations of that ground, the soul lurking within it. Our people’s conflict is our conflict. Their suffering is ours. A girl once broke off a piece of us, reshaped it in her image. Yes, Nevalyn is part of us now, yet she was always part of us, just as her son is or anyone who lives within our grasp. We are Omphalos, waiting for everyone in the darkness within our encircled form. Our people tear us apart as they rip at each. It’s a serpent’s nature to swallow our prey, which sickens many of our life forms, yet they sicken us as well with their behaviour at times. Yet if they’re part of us, their sickness is ours as well. We sicken, nurture, and destroy as part of our cycle. We change depending on the various perceptions our people have of us. We exist long before all other life forms died out. We were the Goddess’s Firstborn, the Dragon was our child before She decided to purify Herself and stamp us out. She changes, too, even as we change. We all circle each other, part of a never-ending myth which keeps changing. In some form or the other, we always exist. We conflict with the agents of our creatrix, yet they are as much a part of us as they are of Her. We are often demonized. We are more than a demon, we are part of eternity, yet we are less in the eyes of those who perceive us. We are the legend, which is reinvented in the mind of our children. Always we endure.