Diablo

"*Well met, fellow traveller of the cosmos. How fare thy?"*

I was born amidst the festering scars at the foot of the Mother of Mountains. My father always used to say that just above our heads, the mighty Mother herself spat virulent contagion into the vast horizons. I was always enamoured with the Mouth. The Mother was not unlike a god, and I loved the thought of Her living next door.

Every day, I would crane my head and peer into the peaks of that incredible landscape, hoping to catch a glimpse of the mysteries concealed within its ragged slopes. I was so proud, and I always boasted to other Clans how my Clan served directly under the Mother, assisting Her in Her conquests. Even though I've never seen even a flicker of the one I claimed to serve. I was young and hopeful, and I wanted to believe.

Youth came and went, and before I knew it, I was no longer young... and now, no longer hopeful.

Time and time again, when we needed Her, the Mother was not there. Prayer after prayer went unanswered.

Enough. I had decided. Clearly, no matter what the world throws at us, we must face it ourselves.

Venturing out into the world was something not many of my Clan dared. They had all they needed - plenty of food, shelter, and the prestige of being one of the most established clans in the area. The wildlands is harsh and unforgiving. Those who seek to brave it often courted their death.

But I was adamant. The world is bigger than the bottom of a hill. I had decided that instead of sitting rooted to this place my whole life, I will go and leave a mark elsewhere on the world. I said as much to my Clan, but I had other motives for leaving home. I thought, that if only I could do something truly extraordinary, complete the Necromantic trials... Perhaps then, the Mother will notice me at last.

Wandering into the Mothermouth was both terrifying and exhilarating. For so long I had lived under its all encompassing shadow, and for the first time in my life, I dared to set foot within the towering peaks. The vile pool hissed and bubbled, and my heart pounded as if one with that ageless beat.

I had waited, for fifteen days and nights. Hoping against hope, inching closer and closer... and yet even as I threatened to fall into that seething cauldren, Mother never once gave me Her blessed touch.

As my patience failed me, so too did my nerve. I wonder if I had dared to dip my hand within that churning cauldren, if I would have recieved Her touch in return. None approached as close as I, and yet, they all fell to their bellies as they were granted a taste of Her mighty power. All except me. I cannot return to my Clan a failure, one who was so unworthy that even Her blight did not claim. And so, I turn away from deadland beneath me, for the shifting winds now beckons me away, to somewhere far beyond the horizons.

Do I miss the Mother of Mountains? In my dreams, I often still see myself still sitting under the stars, gazing up at that striking silhouette against the night sky. It's hard to imagine now, that I was ever as innocent as that little hatchling, blindly following the whispered tales of some all-knowing being. Yet I wish I can go back to those simple years; where the deities of the world are the not stories I now struggle to accept, but a fact of life.

Still, can I know that my dreams are foolish and empty, and still chase them?

Endlessly.