N is for Nevalyn

(Warning from the author. This is one of my worst villains. Viewer discretion is advised.)

I can sense your pain, your blood, your secrets. I smell them, as I crawl out of the grave, an aged woman. I steal rags to wear, as well as a stick to lean on. I’m Nevalyn, the Great Serpent, who returns again and again. As I hobble along the road, I pass an abandoned baby. Its cries revive me. I find I no longer stoop. I pass a couple of children bullying another, only for the victim to turn and bash one of the bullies alongside the head with a rock. The leather spots disappear from my hands, as I find I no longer hobble. I pass by several murders, drawing strength from the death, letting it surge through my entire body. Most important of them of all is the woman, dressed in black, with a unicorn symbol around her neck. She stinks of self righteousness, but I can smell the blood on her. She’s killed many innocents in the name of purifying the world for the Unicorn Goddess. She’s enjoyed every death. She can smell my growing power, just as I can smell hers. She thinks I’m just another spawn of Nevalyn, a middle aged peasant woman with magical power. Never judge a woman by her rags. She reaches out for my throat, an ugly smile on her face. Once I finish with her, she’s no longer smiling. I steal the black cassock she’s wearing, dressing her in the rags I crawled out of the earth wearing. Never say I show no respect for the dead. I’m now feeling stronger than I have, since I crawled out of the earth. I don’t need a mirror to see the gold has returned to my hair, shooting through the silver. My wrinkles are gone, as well. Thanks to the unicorn cleric, my youth has returned. I still haven’t found what I want. I walk, until I reach a hollowed out tree. This is the spot. Where Zenobia cast her enchanted spear through my chest. I knew Xylinthe would leave it here for me. She knew, if no one else, that death can’t stop the Serpent. I always slither back. I reach my hand, blessedly free of leather spots, into the hollow of tree. My fingers grip the hilt of my sword, Wyrmbound. I know my children are still out there in the world, as well as my children’s children, and their descendants. I will find them all. They will follow me, or I will eat them. If any of Zenobia’s brood exists in the world, I will eat them as well. I am the Great Serpent. No one can stop me.


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