Before the Great Sleep
This is the dance we do.
It begins within the walls of the glorious city of Uruk in the year 2950 B.C.E. Two very powerful men take the opening steps as they discuss the economic takeover of one of their lands. One man refuses to follow the lead, believing in a ridiculous concept of fairness in this deal. The other man then takes the reasonable step: killing his opponent outright, selling his slaves, and appropriating his family.
But even those who lead others in their own dance must follow sometimes, and in this dance it was considered uncouth, at the very least, to debase a member of the nobility with slavery. So what is one to do if they want particularly highborn slaves? Make them invisible to the society that they once reigned in. Make the potters refuse to sculpt their ghastly image.
And here we enter a new dancer: the noble son, the lowborn Childe.
He follows well, bearing the cup of a Prince he has only recently discovered. He learns the steps carefully, lest he be punished. He attends with those of his kind, the untouchables, the ghouls, the true monsters of the night. They move in unison to the command of their Lord.
But even he, the leader of this all, must be careful not to step on too many toes. Lest he invite another to cut it. This dance within a dance is oft ignored, even if not especially by those who had originally benefited from it.
And so the servant ghouls follow Lord after Lord. And, as is also the case, they notice one who follows better than the rest, who helps the others follow, who leads the followers. They ask themselves “Why do we not follow him?” And the lead is switched.
But even those apotheosed by their kin are not immune to these rules, though. And even the meek-turned-mighty must fall.
But this is the dance we must do.