5 Kupek, 143CZ

We've finally made it to the sanctuary safely. Though the swamp definitely did its best to kill us in the meantime, Malitzin is a capable guide and managed to reign in my dangerous curiosity before I got eaten by any of the buzzing or fanged wildlife here. I do wish I'd had more time and been in less peril - I'd have loved to sketch the trees and flowers, or even one of those alligator things. But alas, this isn't the time or place.

Like I said before, I'm definitely not going into detail about what part of the swamp we're in, for the safety of our lovely hosts. I will say that I was shocked when we came upon this sanctuary, and I'm still convinced there was a glamor at work, though they'll neither confirm nor deny it. One minute I was walking through muck and hoping we weren't headed into a haunted ruin, and the next I minute I heard and saw elves bustling to and fro, living their daily lives in a place that by all rights should have been abandoned centuries ago. It was magical! And the people here are so kind and indulgent of my curiosity, though a few of them are a bit gruff. I suppose that's what happens when you're forced to hide and fear discovery or death around every corner.

That said, the people here - the Acani, as many of them call themselves - have done wonders with what little they have. There are incredibly fascinating farming structures, animal pens, sentry towers, water purification systems, and a functioning market. Most astonishingly of all, they have a functional, if a tad rickety, airship dock! I now understand how Malitzin intends to get us out of here, though I fail to see how we'll go unnoticed in the skies over the Empire.

Either way, I intend to take in a bit of the culture while I'm here and learn what I can about my elvish heritage. I heard from some children - adorable little ones that I had no clue how to interact with, let me tell you - that there's an elderly orator in this encampment who likes to tell stories in the firelight during the evenings. I think I'll attend and see what sort of history remains after all these years of sorrow.

If there's anything interesting, I'll write it down.

An Orator's Story, transcribed by Yunha Cheng-yo, 6 Kupek, 143CZ:

You all know why we hide - why we must conceal our fires and scare away the unwanted. It is because of the lies of a snake that sits upon the imperial throne. The monster that came to us, deceived us, and ultimately fractured our one people into many. The usurper who overthrew our old ways, our old folklore, and called our gods false idols - he is the one who sits upon the throne and orders our deaths. This is true. This is the now.

But it was not always this way. Once our people lived together as one, before there were the scaled and the scaleless. Once our people prayed to the moon - yes, there was only one back then! - and the stars and the trees, living in harmony with everything that lives and breathes. We sang and danced, carefree under the watchful gaze of our deities, the very essence of that which we prayed to. Such wonderful times were these, now merely the whisper of a memory passed down through time to such innocent gifts as those we call our children.

Those times are lost to us now, for the Golden Serpent came and demanded our tribute. When some of us listened to his words and witnessed his miracles, his power over the sun, we trembed and our faith in the moon and the stars and nature faltered. Our gods left us, feeling our devotion waver, and the Golden Serpent supplanted them. He named himself our Emperor and told us to worship him as both a god and a king. We laid gold at his feet, placated his terrible moods, and called ourselves the Coztlitl Empire in his honor when our people became a nation. To reward us, he shattered our Elder Moon and made of it his domain, all but the emerald moon that his brother, the Jade, claimed.

Of course, we did not do this, not we the elves of today. We did not turn from our gods and disgrace them so. We also did not earn the punishment of the purge that has been visited upon us by the Empire that once called us its citizens. So why, then, do they hate us so?

Because some of our ancestors dared to question.

When the Emperor told these ancestors of the Ascension and its gifts, those most devoted to him stood rapt in awe of such a transformation. That we, such lowly creatures, could take on the guise of the Golden Serpent himself - why, many of them were willing to pay whatever price such an honor could cost in gold or blood. And it did cost blood. The first to doubt were the first to voice their discomfort with such a heavy cost of life for such a boon. If the God Emperor was so great, should he not simply be able to bestow his gift upon those he chose? Why require such a sacrifice?

And so began their persecution. At first, they were simply shunned from social gatherings and otherwise ostracized from the community, though not outright exiled. Then, they were rounded up as the old faith began to return to those who doubted. Those who disappeared in the night were never heard from again, but conspicuously a newly transformed citizen would appear in the place of what was once five or more of their doubting kin. Eventually, subtlety wore off completely, and our people were being rounded up in the streets. Those who could not or did not attempt to flee were butchered like cattle before crowds of the faithful awaiting their turn to be transformed. The golden streets were stained red, and the God Emperor looked on in indifference, perhaps even pride.

So few of us made it out when the facade fell and the slaughter began in earnest, but fewer still would have made it out if not for the intervention of one of our gods of eld. That's right, those who doubted were not truly abandoned when the time came for their faith to be truly tested. In the moment when the streets ran red, our prayers were answered. From the trees came wisps of golden light that led our terrified and lost people to safe havens across the swamps. The energy was so similar to the Serpents, but so warm that those desperate souls in flight had no choice but to trust it, and glad be we that they did. Without this intervention, none of our people would have escaped the wrath of the God Emperor, whose light set the sky on fire moments after our ancestors fled the city, his wrath made manifest at their defiance.

We know not which god came to our aid, but thanks to their intervention, the sanctuary you see around you was discovered. Here in [redacted], we are protected by an ancient force, the name of which has been lost to time. It is they that we have to thank for their guiding light, and they who will empower us by our devotion to usurp the Golden Serpent's followers.

You see, he has abandoned those who so blindly followed his word and partook in his rituals of Ascension. He has not been seen in centuries, and the faith of those that remain falters. But our faith is strong, and with it we are armed with the power we need to finish what the Ten and Seven Martyrs started centuries ago. We will rise up from the muck in which we hide and crush the leadership of the Empire. We will retake our home, for we refuse to abandon it to become the sole lair of snakes.

We need not another Serpent's aid, all we need is our trust in the gods of eld.

I'll admit that this story probably won't make it into the final draft of my research, but I'll be damned if it isn't fascinating. I'm not ashamed to admit this is my only notebook, so there wasn't really anywhere else to transcribe it. It would be a crime not to, though, so here we are.

This is an incredibly rare perspective on the atrocities of the Empire that is missing from imperial records, which is by no means an accident. I'd heard a similar story from my father, of course, but to hear it from someone who has spent their life laboring to preserve centuries of oral history is breath-taking and so much more detailed. It's really a miracle that any of it has survived, since there has been no pause in the persecution all this time. It's a miracle that this sanctuary exists at all, to be frank. If it's one thing the Empire is very good at, it's their religious fanaticism. I'm grateful that it does, though, since I have every reason to believe this is the point of egress my father found that brought him to Gyoha, and eventually, to my mother.

My own story and cultural fascination aside, I have very little evidence to suggest that this is the work of Amatoquitlana, and may never find sufficient proof to make that connection. The lights are all I have to go on, with no humanoid manifestation in sight, though the possibility that such a thing was lost in the intervening centuries of oral history did cross my mind. It's a thin connection at best, and a frivolous detail obviously attributed to a different entity at worst. I mean, even if this is Amatoquitlana's work, why not intervene more directly? He clearly teleported many Jade Coil cultists in Malitzin's story, so why not do that here when innocents were being slaughtered by the hundreds? I've looked into the event, after all, and the streets running red is likely not an exaggeration. Thousands of people died that day to fuel Ascensions for the ancestors of the yuan-ti populace today, and entire families were torn apart by the resultant religious schism in society.

No, I don't think I'm going to count this as an instance of Amatoquitlana. I can't think of an entity so powerful as to fight the God Emperor himself as cowardly enough to use this strategy when he could have done more. For my sanity, I hope he either didn't exist yet, was otherwise preoccupied, or would have a damn good explanation for letting all those innocents die.

I need out of the Empire. I hate this place.