Disclaimer: I own nothing except this fic, and Ava.

A/N: The lyrics used are from Dargaard's Underworld Domain.

Snake Charmer

The eyes of Set glowed bright green, the otherworldly light flickering on and off as the statue of the giant cobra groaned and dust was forced out of the cracks, accepting the serpent Lord's essence into itself.

"Set?"

The God's eyes were lowered to the floor, to the naga that called him forth from the Abyss . Set hissed and more dust was roused from within the statue. "You again?"

Dregs shrunk back a little. "Y-yes, it's me again," he said nervously, his rattle sounding.

Set regarded him carefully, closely. "You do not wear the Black Ring," he murmured, somewhat thankful such an impulsive creature had not managed to get his hands on Wrath-Amon's ring again. "I grow tired of your games, naga. What is it you want this time?"

"I w-was wondering if, maybe, you could do me a f-favor," Dregs stammered.

Set's eyes were glowing dimmer now. "Go on."

"I – I'm practically useless to your cause – "

"Practically?"

"My point exactly," Dregs mumbled, playing his hands together anxiously. "I, who have served you longer than even Ram-Amon, am powerless against the likes of our new enemies."

The snake God chuckled hollowly. "You wish for power of your own, is that it?"

"N-not just power," Dregs corrected Set. "A... stronger body. Something bigger," he said, flailing his arms to get his point across.

Set hummed in thought, the green glow fading all together for a few seconds that made Dregs quake in distress.

"Set?"

The eyes came alive again and Set hissed, the statue trembling as his patience was tried. "I will do this for you, Dregs, on one condition," his voice boomed throughout the temple.

"Anything, mighty Set. Anything!"

"Be sure this is the last favor you ask of me," the Lord hissed before a stream of green fire shot out from the statue's mouth and engulfed Dregs entirely. He screamed as the serpentine fires forced him to shed his skin, allowing his new form to break through thereafter. Once the flames had died and his old skin had been burned away entirely, he moved lazily toward a large pillar and used it to keep himself upright as he regained his senses and admired Set's magnificent work.

--

She stepped quietly into the temple, one hand held tight to her chest, concealing something that cast a strange glitter against the darkness, the other removing the red hood of her shawl from her head, then working her hair free of its entanglement within the thin garment. It was the sound of her bracelets and earrings jingling that caught Dregs' attention and warned him he was no longer alone in the temple of Set. Not caring to be caught and interrogated by another of Wrath-Amon's brainless little pawns, he hid behind the pillar he had been resting against. What he was doing here was quite frankly no one's business – not even Wrath Amon's.

He listened to her light footsteps, waited until they stilled, then peered cautiously around the column. He saw her kneel before the statue of Set, laying a small fragment of Star Metal to rest before it. Though it was raw and lacked the sheen of smithed metals, it seemed to sparkle and glow within the dim light of the torches that lined the inside of the temple. The shrine maiden bowed her head, closed her eyes, and clasped her hands together, beginning to pray to the monstrous snake.

Dregs had to wonder if she knew her prayers would fall upon deaf ears, for Set only gave heed to He who wore the Black Ring. Her offerings and dedication meant nothing to Set, and she would end up like the other human followers, either enslaved or devoured, once the gigantic snake was released.

Finished with her prayer, the young woman stood slowly, opening her eyes and meeting the stony gaze of the replica of Set. She inhaled deeply, lacing her fingers together as her hands remained position before her heart. Dregs rose a brow, curious to see just what else she was willing to give the serpent Lord. She had already given him what little Star Metal she possessed; what else did she have to offer?

Goodness reflects the light and evil bears the seeds of all darkness, she whispered, and her eyes closed once again. She took another deep breath, then, much to Dregs' surprise, began to sing.

I never lived elsewhere than in dimensions of fear.
My spirit is enthroned in a land of silent moving shadows.

He recognized the song as the one all shrine maidens of Set were taught. He had heard the Serpent Women teaching the human females once before, but the song had sounded awful, nothing but a jumbled mess of voices, most of which were far too raspy to serenade. This time, however, the song sounded as it was supposed to, or so he assumed; wondrous and enchanting, a melody meant to charm even the likes of Set himself.

In this eternal realm of pain, here it is not a question
of life and death but of torment and of despair.

He rose up on his coils, eyes widening a little as he recognized the young woman as an appointed maiden of Set called Ava. She was the one Wrath-Amon had stolen away from Mesmira under a human guise, buying her for nothing more than a few cursed stones made to look like priceless gems. When asked what it was he saw in the young woman that spoke only when spoken to, Wrath-Amon had replied with an odd curve to his lips, "devotion."

While she clung to the Stygian sorcerer's waist to keep from falling as his demonic chargers took to the skies, dragging the chariot behind them swiftly, Dregs hadn't understood. Now, watching her perform rituals that would prove to be in vain and time wasted in the long run, he did.

Here lie the bodies of unnameable kinds,
tortured by soulless demons and worse.

Acting upon impulse, the urge to be nearer to the melody, Dregs slithered out from behind his safe haven and toward Ava, forgetful of his rattlings – the cause of her sudden silence. She spun round on her heel and took a step back, gasping as her eyes fell upon the creature that had crept up on her.

"You," she whispered, "you have disrupted my prayers to Set."

He blatantly ignored her words and slithered closer until she was within arm's reach. "I had no idea you, of all people, could sing in such a way."

Ava's brow knitted together slowly. She knew that voice all too well, but this magnificent creature before her surely could not have been that pitiful little naga that followed Wrath-Amon like a shadow.

"Dregs?" she asked. When he nodded, she gasped softly. "What on earth happened to you?"

"Set happened to me," he responded, and flung out his arms to admire his true master's work once more. "It's an improvement, don't you think?"

"I would certainly say so," Ava said, voice hushed. "But why...?"

"Why?" he repeated, louder than she. "Of all the stupid questions! Why else, woman?" He quieted down when he realized she was backing away from him, cleared his throat and proceeded. "Because in this world, you need to look the part if you want any kind of respect."

Ava gnawed on her bottom lip a few seconds before she spoke up again. "And you really think that because you have this new form, Wrath-Amon will treat you any better?"

Dregs was quiet, the only sounds escaping him were that of his rattle again. He looked over his hands, slowly clenching them into tight fists, momentarily pleased with the way the veins in his wrists were accented. He then looked to his chest, to the defined pectorals and toned abdomen below covered in yellow scales that meshed with green as his gaze went lower to his hips. The rest of him was pure muscle, slim and strong and reaching out yards behind him. He looked back to the face of the human, wrinkling his nose and crossing his arms over his chest.

"Maybe," he muttered in response.

Ava shook her head slightly, the ghost of an apologetic smile on her painted-pink lips. "I must finish with my prayers," she murmured, looking over her shoulder to the statue of Set.

Dregs hissed. "You do know that when he's released, all human worshipers will either be enslaved or fodder, right?"

"I know this, yes," Ava replied, turning around slowly, resuming her previous posture.

"Then, why is it that you pray to him?" He questioned, moving slower to stay at her side. "Why, when you know it will change nothing?"

"I could ask the same of you," she whispered.

He slithered out of the temple once it became apparent she would say no more that night. He glowered at nothing in particular, a childish habit but one that he did not care to break. He came to a halt at the bottom of the stairway, looking over his shoulder when he heard her singing again, her voice but a strange echo daring to sift through the silent night.

These are the mirrors to the soul, the reflections of the mind,
so choose well, wanderer, for here lurk truth and damnation.

-End