“when the world came to be, yerah was still in infancy. the word for what she was would not exist for centuries, but they would call her mother, for she birthed life. all that our people knew, to the great waters and forest, to the smallest flowers and weeds — all came from her. they called her yerah for she was life. but where there is life, there is death. of all the gods, yerah was the kindest of them. she did not seek to be worshipped as her kin, and that is why she is remembered out of them all. the old gods are not like our saints, they did not wish to be anointed with perfumes and wines. they could only be worshipped with blood.
real gods, volka, will always demand sacrifice.”