Description
There is a long forgotten legend in the world of Signum, and it says that the first people lived forever. They were mighty giants who never grew old or died. Great wizards also lived alongside them — the ones who were later named gods. They looked almost like the first people, but they had immense powers, because magic flew in their blood and other body fluids. But eternal life never brought happiness to people. They were savage, fierce and insatiable. Their whole life revolved around pleasure, but they were tired with that too. The giants, pining away with boredom, were entertained only by killing one another. They often killed themselves in order to stop the senseless succession of years. Nonetheless, they bred so much that even enormous Signum had almost no place left for other creatures. Madness and cruelty completely consumed the first people and they started hunting the great wizards. After all, miracles could be performed with their blood and other body fluids! Understanding the danger they were in, the wizards decided to teach the people a bitter lesson. To make a man value something one has to deprive him of that! So the great wizards chose a young and beautiful maiden among them. Each of them touched her and put a spell on her using their own blood — the most powerful magic medium. After this ceremony the young girl was sent to the first people. The giants, full with hatred, attacked the goddess and tore her into thousands of pieces. But they didn’t get away with this murder. Every day they felt weaker and weaker. Their bodies, once young and full of life, started withering, their skin was covered with wrinkles, their hair thinned out and grew white, and their sight and hearing declined. That’s how the first people met death. The people thought it was a disease sent down to them by wrathful gods. They knelt before the gods and begged for forgiveness. But the great wizards responded: – It is not in our power to take from you what you consider a disease. By killing the one we chose you deprived yourself of eternal life. Her name is Santa Muerte, and now she decides which of you live in this world and for how long. Hence the fate of every human whose veins are not flowed with blood of the gods will be aging and death. You didn’t value what you had. Perhaps, if your life is short and ephemeral, you will stop wasting and lounging it away.
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The rich and the poor, the destitute and those who have things to lose worship her. They call her Santa Muerte, and everyone is destined to meet her. Sometimes the young goddess is shown with a pumpkin for a head, but more often — with her face painted as a skull. Paupers and outcasts from the Guild of Shadows respect her especially. But from time to time even eminent residents of rich neighborhoods in Vallor light a candle for the goddess of death in secret.
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