[ This is a diaboli fairy tale written for the Masquerade Ball. It was written from an in character perspective for a younger audience, and with certain character based motivations. I thought I would post it here for anyone who might want to read it. Enjoy 
] Serpentella
By R.S. Salutow
Long ago, before the blackened sky was wrought with brilliant flashing light; in a land that lay beyond the seam of ground and sky, there lived a young, curvacious maiden named Serpentella Krallight. She was tall and slender with hips that rolled with each enticing step, and long, smooth, polished horns that shimmered like a lake. Her tail was smooth as silk and free of stubble, the tip, sharp and always clean; and when she sang, the tiny creatures of the night would stop and gaze in silence - hypnotized by her beauty.
Despite her looks, Serpentella was very lonely - painfully so. She would lay upon the floor day and night wishing that Gal'marah, the man of her dreams, would come and take her away to his abode, and stroke her long, starphire scented, black hair as he bathed her in poetry and praise, but he never did.
One day she saw him outside her window. She gazed in awe and waved, but he just walked away. She called, but he did not answer. She sent her brother out to bring him back, but when he arrived Gal'marah showed signs of boredom, and when asked if he wanted to marry her, he said no and left abruptly.
She was heart broken and fell into a spell of sadnes that would not go away. Desperate for his love, she sought a little know god named Vaarg for help. He agreed to make Gal'marah fall in love with her, but in return she was to give him her hair and wear a collar with the name of her god written on the side. Furthermore, he and only he would be the love of her life; bound by an oath on her life, she swore.
Vaarg took his sword and shaved her head - removing each and every bit and piece of stubble until it was as smooth as her face. Around her neck, he affixed a thick black collar with razor sharp spikes that were as long as her arm. She cried when she realized what a harsh price she had to pay, but was eager to see her beloved.
When Gal'marah saw her he was instantly in love, but when he tried to kiss her, his neck was pierced by a spike. He tried again, but it was no use. Despite the sharp spikes that separated them, they were infatuated with one another. They wed and lived in utter pain - unable to express their love aside from the sighs and groans they shared.
Finally, Gal'marah insisted that she take her silly collar off, but she refused for fear of breaking her agreement with Vaarg and losing the favor that he had bestowed. That night, as she slept, Gal'marah crept into her room and snipped the collar from her neck. It turned into a serpent and slithered away - squealing loudly like a newborn whelp. She awoke hearing the screech, only to find that her collar was removed. Suddenly, Gal'marah realized how ugly she had become and ran away. As he moved farther away, he remembered how lazy and unloving she was; how she neglected to keep his interest yet sought to be pleased and entertained.
Deprived of Vaarg's spell, she could no longer entice him. She sought the tutelage of her mother - an older, wiser woman who knew the secrets of tapping into a man's heart. She taught her to cook and bake, to be considerate and kind; to find and draw out the most hidden and secret desires of his heart, and to make them come true.
One day, she saw him sitting all alone and depressed - staring into a stagnant pond. Her first thought was to ask him to tell her a tale and to stroke her silky, black hair - which now barely covered her neck, but then stopped and recalled the lessons her mother had taught her. Seeing that he looked sad, she sat next to him and asked what was wrong.
He told her of a prophecy that was revealed to him as a child upon asking a god for guidance and strength, but when asked, he would not reveal the god's name which he had sworn to keep secret. Vaarg had told him that he would meet a woman with a serpent who would try to deceive him. She would be greedy, though beautiful, she would smile warmly and make him promises of affectionan, but then offer none. Worst of all, that he would not recognize her until it was too late - and that once she had touched him, he would be defiled and eventually suffer true death.
Convinced of their plight, they saw no point in living any longer and decided to embrace true death by their own hands. Having obtained a potion of eternal demise, they sat beneath an old crooked tree and held their flasks to their lips as they counted:
One, Two, Three!
Before they could wet their lips, a soft voice called out from a bush. Startled, they watched as the town elder stepped out and called them by name. He took their vials away and asked them to tell him of their troubles. By virtue of knowledge and wisdom earned through trial, error and old age, he pointed out to them the terrible trick that Vaarg had arranged, then set them forth on a sound path of knowledge and magic - warning them to never again lower their heads to a god. Free from the snares of the gods, they started their life anew and lived happily every after.
The End
