The Serpent's Birth
It's odd to think about. Sometimes it feels as though everything we've seen has been around, in one form or another. It's just that we forget. The Curse that made the first Vampires was once little more than a fevered dream, sketched by madmen and those who spend not enough time working. Before the lands were divided, and petty kings and their vassals squabbled, our people fought without crowns. The blood of tribesmen and shepherds turned rivers red.
Even the prophecies repeat, falling back upon themselves. They're like a wheel. In the center of that wheel is the Serpent, swallowing gods as it moves across the heavens. Our minds, the dreams and ambitions we hold so dear, are its canvas. Our despair is its medium. The Vampires rose up, drawing the ire of nations, and so fulfilled their destinies. I believe that the Serpent remains with them, taking form within their numbers. The prophecies are coming to pass at an astonishing rate, yes, but they are the prophesies spoken among those camps within the Gy'veorn.
Ancient and malevolent, the Cult of the Serpent remains one of the greatest threats to civilizations across Xùyì, despite its callous treatment of its followers. Where other cults have perished, alone in the hot sands, or by the blade of competitors, the Serpent remains. A cankerous cult that grows stronger with each new group that adheres to this belief. Like a wheel, it spins faster and faster, lives and resources wasted in a great fervor, only to stop when it crashes into those newly chosen by the Serpent. Following the blasphemous, self-focused teachings of the Snake-god A'saram, that which wreaths itself in the mysteries, several dozen cults have flourished. Those that lack the fire within, the determination to fight again, and to feed on the weakness of civilization, are abandoned into the clutches of others or slain in one of the Serpent's other, equally wicked names. Then, shedding its skin, the cult returns with greater fervor as a new one approaches to carry the mantle of that evil one.
Death is their worshipful master, though often unknowingly, their true patron lies just beyond that veil. Needless sacrifice feeds the Serpent. The devout casting themselves into the flames to achieve greater positions in their next lives only feeds the Serpent. It is the ultimate betrayal, a fitting end for those who would sacrifice all others to ascend in the next life. To rise within their ranks is to abandon humanity. Accursed, devoid of light, they see what lurks beyond death, the thing that waits to devour them, and still they offer others as sacrifices, hoping to find favor. The stars themselves cry out warnings, yet their vision is clouded by evil. Where others run, they remain, braving the storm that is to come.
Of all these, none come near the wickedness of the Serpent-Born. Where others try to emulate the Serpent, the child was raised in it, the sign of the end.
Summary
Guvyan and the other original Vampires had drawn the ire of the known world, yet few could hope to withstand them. Mighty empires bowed before their will. As such, many felt called to visit their fell courts; prodigies from across many kingdoms, and the children of lesser nobility were sent to be raised and taught by the Vampires therein. Power was held within the grasp of the First, something unseen before, despite the efforts of the Trel and similar empires. As tensions rose across the land and Vampiric ambitions took root, the eyes of the Serpent fell upon them. The wheel wasn't broken, but it was worrisome.
Pride swelled within their ranks, a yearning writhed through them, to destroy, to maim, and to conquer. There, within those strong desires, the Serpent awaited.
Guided by unspoken voices, a final burst of wicked passion led several members of the dying cult north, towards shadow courts of the First Vampires. There, within the womb, the child Mara'ki was corrupted. Though many of the culprits faced the Vampire's Judgment, several escaped that fate. Prominent figures, each a representative of their allies, were united in nothing save the Serpent. Under the cloudless night, the child was born. A large, milky white snake coiled around the boy, guarding it with unblinking, serpentine eyes.
Historical Basis
Since the Ascension of the First Vampires, rumors have spread of an increase in Outsider corruption, which coincides with the folk stories of the early Kjurvog. It is believed, though unproven, that Mara'ki was a serpent, though it is open to interpretation. Some claim that he was nothing more than a rebellious child. It could be that he was nothing more than a schemer, trying to steal power, explaining the allegories toward snakes. Yet, the story cannot be fully denied. The Serpent was slain. Several times over. Then the Serpent would resurface, though its vessel would again be cut down by those loyal to Xùyì. Still, it always rears its ugly head, finding a new host within an unsuspecting, though tainted womb, to enact its dark will. Currently, the host is believed to be hiding somewhere within Trel, despite its carefully laid-out birth rites and customs that protect against such a thing.
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