"Worship me…"

The first words uttered from the Vision of Perfection, Queen Azshara upon The Great Transformation. Through the Legion's folly and the meddling of the imperfect, the reshaping of Azeroth into the perfect world had failed. The portal which would summon the one known as Sargeras had collapsed. Now the infinite source of power, The Well of Eternity, was imploding.

The great capital Zin'Azshari sunk into the chaotic water; The Light of Lights, Queen Azshara, with her great power and divine love, casted a spell over the Eternal Palace. Water would not flow in and her beloved Highborne would die from drowning. Though the spell would surely hold forever, her children would die of other means if a way out was not found. Elune, who had birthed The Ray of True Royalty, Queen Azshara, from her own reflection, was not the only god on Azeroth.

The palace and fragments of the great city were pulled ever downward into the dark and now chaotic water. Suddenly, the barrier was lifted, and all but The Beauty of Creation, Queen Ashzara, screamed in terror. Black water filled their lungs, as with unimagined speed, the ocean sought to fill the void in its belly. The ocean was not master here, however, and even though it tore the structure and all objects within apart; those inside were not crushed and ripped asunder.

The imperfect vision of the moon goddess was replaced with true beauty. All were transformed as the rubble crumbled on the sea floor. They gathered around the Central Hall which was now exposed to the one element. Lights blazed, howls of exhilaration were bellowed so loud they reached the surface as our Queen achieved even greater beauty and now fully grasped the power that had always been hers. She rose and made her first and most important proclamation. Worship Her.

Vala'Saji smiled contently as she gently squeezed the pearl which recited the story. Inscribed with runes and empowered with layers of Enchantments, these pearls were quite popular for storing informing, particularly when the information inside wasn't to be modified and meant to last a long time. The story of Azshara and her ascension into full godhood definitely qualified.

Vala'Saji was a priestess of the tides; an initiate to be exact, but that wasn't about to curb her enthusiasm. She was born to a noble house after all, of course all Naga was born to nobility but she knew for a fact that her house was higher up than most, somehow. As a part of her initiate work she would participate in the creation of these pearls at the temple and work her way up. Priest training, indeed Naga society in general was full of trials and minuscule promotions. It is understandable why, only weak Naga die of old age and even they live for thousands of years. So there is little change in ranks; unless you're willing to try and make a position "open up", of course.

Still for being only three hundred and sixty seven years old she was moving notably faster than what was previously expected. This was certainly because of Her Highest, Queen Azshara's, fourth proclamation, multiply; which she had recently made an effort to emphasizes. With diligence she would enter the priesthood within fifty years.

For now the pearls allow her to practice her spell craft and although she has to listen to each and every one, she does not mind, especially this session. For who could ever get tired listening to the tale of the god-queen?

"Worship me…"

The frightened and confused Highborne were recovering from their transformation. Great founts of energy were illuminating from what used to be the central Hall of the eternal palace. Some were already driven to madness and swam away; they wouldn't get far, as the imploded Well of Eternity had turned the surrounding water into a death trap that consumed any who strayed too far. Others, perhaps madder than the ones who fled, flocked in curiosity and desperation to the radiance. The water could do nothing to silence the screams of pain and rage that emanated from the quivering mass that consumed the throne where the Life of all that we are, Queen Azshara, had sat.

The unrecognizable mound of flesh stilled. Like a kindled hearth, the lights dimmed into a warm glow. An infinitely smooth voice called from the ruined seat of power; greatly twisted but instantly recognizable to all that who had ever heard it before. It was too whom all Glory is Due, Queen Azshara and she had made her first and most important proclamation. Worship Her.

At least that is how he remembered the story being told. Jul'Voraz was bored and he often thought of Azshara; as he had been commanded to when lethargic. At his current assignment he was bored much of time; watching Mur'gul slaves toiling endlessly proved very uneventful. Patience was a trait all Naga had to learn, especially for his destined duty as a myrmidon.

He watches the fields so no slave would escape and no outside force would interfere. Of course beyond from the odd monstrosity that lurked about, nothing ever posed a serious threat out in the dark reaches, even if he might secretly wish it. On the bottom of the sea the only light one will find is that emitted by fluorescent beasts and the magical devices of the Naga. Much time was spent staring into the murky void; almost regretting throwing his "reward" into the black; a pearl that told the story of Azshara.

"For all my years of service, that was my reward!? Unacceptable," He thought.

Watching the Mur'guls fight over the enchanted pearl had brought some amusement. Even more amusing, even if franticly executed, was beating the slaves to retrieve it. Had anybody seen it in their hands he would have either been labeled weak and a dullard for losing it to slaves or a blasphemer for treating the item so disrespectfully. In frustration he had rashly decided to get rid of the item for good and tossed it into the dark. Hopefully no one would ask about such a minute trinket but fate made cruel fun of events such as this.

Luckily it was only a matter of time until he was promoted from a mindless slave guard to…what? Surely it was every Naga's dream to serve the Goddess, Queen Azshara, in the most holy city of Nazjatar or even directly at the Eternal Palace. The city was always a glow, not only from its own light but also from the red and orange rays emitted from the fissures and volcanoes that surround it; combined with the dazzling aura of the Rift there is no greater beauty but unto Azshara herself. So they say at least.

The question still persisted in his head though. What was he looking forward too? A nice change of scenery? Even if he guarded Azshara herself, was he really going to be content staring at the hallway outside her chamber for an unfathomable amount of time? Would eternal satisfaction and pleasure truly be derived from being in the presence of societies' highest? If these positions were only given to the best warriors, what sense did it make to have them guarding the strongest being in most fortified and unreachable place on the planet? Wouldn't their talents be best used elsewhere?

He pushed such thoughts away. Voraz was not a strategist or tactician nor had he any training in related fields and so could not speak on such matters; deeper still he didn't enjoy the notion that his race would be so incompetent. Instead he daydreamed about expanding the empire; enslaving the Sea Giants, putting down Murlocs, feasting on Makrura, and of course drowning all who cowered on their little patches of dirt. Beating on the slaves was the most enjoyable part of his duty and he looked forward to similar activities wherever he might be sent.