Prologue
I stand on the mountain like a burning beacon of rage, the sun setting behind me, the sky alive with molten ore. I see the destruction of my forgotten lands - still burning, still alive with plague - as a call from my Goddess to war. The Goddess of the Serpent has been silent all these years, silenced by my betrayal, silent as I buried my sons, silent as my crops failed and my people starved. Suddenly she screams in my ear as a maddened wretch and I am Pythia again.
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