Mother Dusk seeks the Light amidst the darkness
16
SEP/20
The sun was setting as the obsidian serpent slithered slowly through her gnarled bronze hands, idly smelling the air with its tongue as its crimson eyes stared at the ancient Mul oracle with cold, reptilian indifference. Mother Dusk ignored its stare and instead gazed intently at the dark, glittering scales that played through her fingers, a mask of intense worry fitted securely over her wrinkled brow. The ancient Mul was indeed troubled as she read the scales of the of onyx-colored serpent; her milky white eyes narrowed to paper thin slits as she tried to find clues to the whereabouts of the Yavapai reflecting back to her in the subtle, nearly monochromatic, scales that adorned the spine of the massive snake. Where in the rumored hells had they gone off to?
She knew that a great darkness had befallen the Yavapai in the recent past: the cobras gleefully told of their death and loss; the rattlesnakes wove fanciful tales of heroics and of a tragic battle of epic proportions; while the coral snakes told her that the remaining tribe flew majestically through the air, with the wistful jealousy of those doomed to crawl on their bellies. Mother Dusk was crestfallen in thinking that earlier her readings could have been so wrong, believing that her predictions had somehow been led astray by the cunning of the Dragon Queen. At least, she was until Garil brought her a simple rat snake; a serpent that restored in Mother Dusk a faint glimmer of hope.
Rat snakes are exceedingly rare in this world. These peaceful serpents, having lost their namesake food source and lacking venom or other defenses suitable for survival in this hostile world, were believed to possibly even be extinct, killed off by the hostile predators that call the harsh desert their home. Stumbling across one in her time of need seemed far too fortuitous to be mere coincidence; the very Fates themselves must to have placed her in Mother Dusk’s path. And this lonely snake was also very prolific; her scales telling stories of survival and hardship, of love and loss, and heartache and pain. And there, towards the tail of the serpent, Dusk found what she was searching for: three of the Yavapai, as well as the Forgotten Man, were still alive!
That was all the information about the tribe that she was able to glean from this reading, but it was more than she had gotten in weeks of searching. She knew then what needed to be done, which brings us now to the dark serpent sliding through her ancient hands: a terrifying creature known as the Curse of Badna. These rare serpents are rumored to be directly linked to the black head of Tiamat, created by Badna Herself, and the knowledge their scales hold are thought to be the very secrets of the Dark Goddess herself. But they are also the most cunning and venomous of all the serpents, and only the most desperate or foolhardy would dare to attempt a reading of such a lethal creature.
Mother Dusk was most certainly not foolhardy, so it was utter desperation that led her to send Garil into the dark underworld in order to bring her the serpent that now worked its way through her weathered hands. As she thought of her faithful Mul guardian, tears formed in her milky-white eyes. She did not need to read his fate upon the scales to know that he would not survive the bites that he had received in retrieving this magnificent, deadly beast. That he had survived this long was a testament to his stubbornness and strength, but the Curse’s venom was persistent, and the groans of dread coming from her yurt were growing softer by the hour. Though she was a skilled healer and she had tried her hardest to save him, this treatment was beyond her reach. The best she could do was to try to ease and hasten his passing.
The venom of the Curse of Badna works twofold: the bite of the serpent injects a powerful poison that acts quickly, but can be counteracted in a variety of ways. But the venom also imparts a lingering effect, impregnating the victim with seeds of terror that blossom and grow over days and weeks, during which time the pitiable creature is subjected to visions of a veritable hellscape of terrifying delusions, as their minds gaze upon the very world of the Dark Lady herself. The victim suffers in fearful torment until either their mind breaks or their heart gives out from sheer terror. It is an awful way to die, and Mother Dusk hoped that her poultice would work quickly and lessen the suffering of her dear companion.
The Curses of Badna, also known as Gloom Vipers, live exclusively in the deepest bowels of the earth, and only rarely venturing to the surface world; only doing so to enact their creator’s dark bidding. Badna, the black head of Tiamat, in times past used to rule over the murky swamplands of Faerûn. But when all of the swamps dried up and returned to dust, Badna found herself without a domain to call Her own – aside from Her nominal dominance within the walls of Raam. Badna has made overtures that She intends to challenge Nuatuhl, the White Head of Tiamat – who also happens to be the weakest of the five – for control over the domain of the moon. But Badna, proud and ferocious as she is, is not content to merely fight over the scraps of her most pitiable sibling, has turned Her attention to another prize: the underworld. The Curses of Badna seem to indicate that Her true intention is to wrest control of this domain from Weyog, the Green Head of Tiamat, who had craftily laid claim the subterranean realms when the forests of Faerûn had burned away to ash centuries ago.
Created by Badna Herself, the Gloom Vipers are imbued with access to the most sinister and guarded secrets about the world, offering clues into the private thoughts of the Dark Queen herself; and they pride themselves in being trusted with these forbidden truths. This does not mean they are willing to give up their secrets easily, however. The trick is to get a Gloom Viper of the exact right age. The youngest of these serpents are unabashed liars; prone to greatly exaggerating or outright fabricating their access to this secret lore in an effort to make themselves seem more important, and their scales produce nothing of worth. On the other hand, the adults are privy to a wealth of hidden information, but they defend this secret trove of knowledge with their very lives. The trick is to find a viper right in the middle, too old to lie but young enough to not fight to the death to protect these secrets. You need to find them before they have grown their horns and when their acidic breath defense is just starting to develop. And then, you need to catch one when it is just starting to venture out from under the watchful gaze of its mother, who will protect her progeny at all costs. It is exceedingly difficult to find this perfect candidate, which illustrates why even attempting to wrangle one is the purview of the desperate, foolish, or insane.
Mother Dusk poured over the scales of the serpent, being careful only to allow into her conscious mind the facts of what she was searching for. The breadth of knowledge contained upon the scales of this creature was astounding, the very secrets of the creation of the world. But Dusk knew well enough that accessing too much of this knowledge would break her mind at best, or draw the ten eyes of Tiamat to her at worst. Plots, plans, murders, insurrections, torments, and the occasional love and joy, all played through her fingers; always dancing on the edge of her awareness as she allowed none of it to take hold. And then she saw what she was looking for, a tiny speck of light reflecting back to her in the midst of a scale of almost pure inky blackness. And in that tiny dot of brightness surrounded by overwhelming darkness, she found them and saw the entirety of what had befallen them.
Her heart soared as she realized that the diminutive and kindly rat snake had been correct: three of the Yavapai had survived, including two with the divine blood – the Light Made Flesh and the Lady in Shadows both lived, separated by some distance, but aware of each other’s existence, and each working to fulfill their own destiny. The third member of the tribe stayed behind, near the Lady. His fate had always been a difficult one to read, he was as elusive in person as he was upon the scales. His story was not complete yet either, he still had a role to play in the grand game. The Forgotten Man was alive as well, serving in his role to protect the Light. In him she saw two men, each identical in appearance, speaking the same words out of the same mouth, but each man worked at opposite purposes: one embracing the day and the other the night. She could see that the fates of both of these men went in opposite directions, and that the future of the Forgotten Man would be decided by which of the two won out in the end.
There were others with them as well, their tribe was small but powerful; their stories cried out loudly from the serpent’s scales, begging to be told. There was the Storm Queen, with the blood of the mighty wyrm Azhaq flowing through her veins; the last of a royal lineage that stretched through the ages, somehow surviving despite Tiamat’s brutal subjugation of her kind. There was the Farseer, a powerful Psion with the ability to see beyond the veil of time and death. Mother Dusk could see that the Farseer and the Storm Queen were linked by a powerful bond – their fates intermingled by an almost tangible knot in the very threads of Fate. And lastly, there was the enigma, the Ruinous Saint, one who drew his immense power from a font of evil but somehow he was able to translate this darkness into celestial light. It disturbed Dusk to see that this one was watched by two of the ten eyes, but she took solace in the fact that the Dark Lady seemed to be unaware that Her servant’s actions were in conflict with Her own interests. For the moment, at least.
These five were all chained together by golden threads of Fate, far stronger than any such bonds Dusk had seen in the past. As she read further, she could see the five of them standing upon the precipice to the domain of a long dead king; the bringer of ruin; the one who turned water to sand. While these five yet stood, there was still hope for the world, but there were great dangers ahead for them: two of the eyes had opened already, and the other four heads were growing restless in their slumber. She did not need to read upon the scales that time was of the essence, and she would need to act quickly if she was going to be able to provide them with any assistance in their crusade.
When the snake completed its circuit through her fingers, Mother Dusk, with a lightning quick flourish, produced a blade of pure energy out of nothingness and severed the head of the Gloom Viper in one effortless pass of her hand. The headless corpse of the serpent flopped and flailed wildly about, before finally settling still upon the ground; black ichor oozing from the exposed wound and pooling lazily upon the red sand. Mother Dusk stood up unsteadily and walked slowly back to her yurt – these readings always took a lot out of her, and she would need some time to recover. And she needed to see to it that her ward passed peacefully from this world into the next, she owed him that much at least.
As the flaps to the yurt closed shut behind her, high up in the night sky a twin pair of stars gazed down upon the scene and flickered ever so slightly, twinkling with hidden malice.
