In the beginning, before the first rising sun in an age simply known as First Time, there was only Ixco, the speaking earth. Ixco dreamed of life, and life stirred in her belly deep underground. But Ixco had no clear vision of what life should look like, so all manner of creatures, with features that were entirely conflated, came into being. Body parts were mixed up in a haphazard, capricious manner as the creatures of the world took shape in the great womb of the underworld. From this chaos, however, a singular creature of great power was created. This was Nikhuumt’zi, the White Python. She was a maker, a demiurge, who could sculpt the world and bring it life. Nikhuumt’zi whispered to Ixco how to spread her dream to the surface world. As Ixco listened, a great tree sprouted. This was Keesi-Tu, the Tree of Life. Following the directions of Nikhuumt’zi, Keesi-Tu grew up from the underworld to sprout into the surface, spreading its branches over every part of the world.
Nikhuumt’zi followed the roots of the Tree of Life upward, ultimately emerging from a hole at the base of the trunk. She discovered the surface world was dark and barren, so she crept across the land, creating great furrows in the stone and soil. And where she passed water seeped from the ground, creating rivers and streams. Still, the world was without life, so she whispered to Ixco that her creation was not yet finished. More makers were needed, so Ixco dreamed of more pythons, four in number, fashioned after the form of Nikhuumt’zi. They were Blue, Green, Red, and Black.
When she emerged from the hole at the base of Keesi-Tu, the Blue Python, Moëkhuumt’zi, whispered to Ixco and a great gourd appeared at the base of the Tree of Life. As the gourd grew and swelled, it began to glow in its own golden light. Soon it was so large that it began to float into the air, and Moëkhuumt’zi broke the vine that tethered it to the ground. The golden orb rose high into the air where it became the sun, bathing the land in light and warmth. Even the sky greeted the first day, turning from black to bright blue. “Behold, Niri the Sun,” cried Moëkhuumt’zi in great joy.
The next to emerge was Bakhuumt’zi, the Green Python. She saw the land remained barren, so she whispered to Ixco, and suddenly the Tree of Life burst into flowers of every imaginable color. The pollen from the flowers spread throughout the country, and where each grain touched the soil, a plant sprouted. Soon the land was covered in green, living things.
The Red Python, Nindikhuumt’zi, was the third to emerge. She marvelled at the golden sun in a blue sky and the green things that covered the earth. But the world was still. Nothing stirred, and all was silent. So Nindikhuumt’zi whispered to Ixco and the Tree of Life grew long seed pods, which burst to release their seeds. From these seeds were every kind of small creeping and flying thing with many legs or no legs at all. Insects and spiders and worms filled the earth. And from the dried petals of the former flowers sprang other flying things, butterflies and birds of many colors that filled the sky.
The White Python considered her work and that of her sisters and judged it was time to release the creatures born of the chaos in the underworld into this verdant new world. But before she could whisper her desire to Ixco, the final python emerged. Nakhuumt’zi the Black was as dark as the underworld that spawned her. When she looked out at the bright new world, with the warm sun and green grass and trees and buzzing of every kind of many-legged creature she grew jealous. Her sisters had filled the world and there was little remaining for her to do. So in her jealousy and spite, she whispered to Ixco that something more was needed. Another gourd sprouted from the base of the Tree of Life, but this one was all black. As the golden gourd had done, the black gourd grew and swelled, and eventually began to rise up into the sky, where it rivalled the size of the sun. “Behold, Este the Moon,” cried the Black Python, mocking her sister the Blue Python.
As the black moon rose, it drifted closer to the sun and eventually passed in front of it, blocking all light and casting the land in darkness once again. The leaves on trees began to wither, the buzzing of insects was stilled, and the birds ceased to fly.
“You are ruining our creation,” cried Nikhuumt’zi the White.
But Nakhuumt’zi the Black merely hissed, “If you don’t like it, fix it yourself.”
So Nikhuumt’zi whispered once more to Ixco and Bakhuumt’zi the Blue Python suddenly sprouted wings. She flew up high into the sky and wrapped her tail around the sun, dragging it away from the black orb. Light returned to the world. Nikhuumt’zi whispered to Ixco one last time and new gourds appeared on the tree of life. As they split and their seeds scattered, new creatures arose from the rich red soil of the earth. These were creatures of the original creation, which had abided in the belly of Ixco since her first dream of life. But not all of the haphazard creatures of her first dream emerged. Only those that fit within the visions of the world of her daughters, the white and blue and red pythons, were allowed to sprout. And the rivers were filled with fish and frogs and the land with creatures great and small, from great elephants to tiny mice.
As the new animals began to adjust to their new existence, it became clear that the Black Python’s mischief had not entirely been resolved. Following the example of her sister, Nakhuumt’zi also sprouted wings and wrapped her tail around the moon and began to follow the sun. She could not fly quite as fast. Nevertheless, her pursuit forced the Blue Python to realize that she would need to drag the sun forever, passing from eastern horizon to the west, creating alternating periods of day and night, to preserve everything her sisters had wrought.
As this drama played out in the skies, a small creature, newly born of Ixco’s womb, took notice. This was D’aangi Myrr, a mongoose and first mother to her tribe. As she looked up at the black moon chasing the bright sun across the sky, she thought it looked more like a gourd or—and this was a completely new idea—an egg. She looked about and saw a stone. It was not so large that she could not lift it, but she could not carry it and climb at the same time. Then she saw the Pied Crow standing nearby, and its black-and-white plumage reminded her of the two pythons, white and black.
“Can you carry this stone?” she asked the Pied Crow.
“Yes. But whatever for?”
“Just do so, and meet me at the top of Keesi-Tu.”
So saying, D’aangi Myrr leaped upon the base of the great Tree of Life and began to climb. It was an arduous task, which became more difficult the higher she climbed. Broad branches narrowed to slender boughs. Thick limbs divided into thin twigs. At last she reached the uppermost twiglets of Keesi-Tu, and there was the Pied Crow, as promised, waiting for her. She took the stone, and turning about, faced away from the dark moon overhead. Then in one fluid motion she leaped up and hurled the stone backward, hiking it between her legs. The rock soared up and up… and struck the moon squarely in the center. As she had guessed, the black moon was but a hollow shell. The shell of the moon egg cracked, then shattered.
If D’aangi Myrr expected to rid the sky of the Black Python’s vandalism, she was disappointed. Half of the moon egg remained, and the Black Python continued to drag it across the sky. It’s interior, however, was not pitch black. Rather, it was brilliant white, and as it turned in the sky it sometimes looked like a complete orb and sometimes a crescent and sometimes disappeared almost completely. The rest of the shell exploded into thousands of tiny fragments, which filled the sky with specks of twinkling light. And that is how a mongoose created the moon and stars.
The birth of the stars and the shining moon was a surprise to D’aangi Myrr, as it was for all the creatures who witnessed the spectacle. But it was not the only consequence of breaking the Black Python’s egg. Foul creatures fell from the open egg, the greatest of the horrors that had come together by chance in the chaos of the underworld. As they arrived on the ground, Nikhuumt’zi and her sisters realized that they too possessed some powers of creation, and with horror she guessed that they would shape the vile creatures that remained in the underworld and fill some of animals that had emerged with terrible purpose. These moon-spawn were the Estezoolim, the Monsters of the Moon.
The spawn of the moon egg were ten in number. The most horrible of these was Grootslang, the Queen of Serpents. Three more were her favorites and served as her lieutenants: Kongamato, the King of the Winds, Nyminyami, the Queen of Rivers, and Mbilintu, the Empress of Swamps and Jungles. Four more creatures—the Imimoya or spirits— served as subordinant attendants to the first four: Impundulu, the spirit of lightning and storms, Inkanyamba, the spirit of pools and ponds, Nyuvwira, the spirit of mountains and caves, and Emelantouka, the spirit of bush and savanna. The final two creatures were servants of death and decay: Ammit and Kammapa.
Nikhuumt’zi protested. This could not be the dream of Ixco, so she appealed to the First One to limit the influence of these creatures spawned from the Black Python’s egg. Ixco responded that their powers of creation would be limited to sharing their own features with the creatures that emerged. However, she would allow the first among them, Grootslang, to whisper one wish in the same manner as that which she allowed of the great pythons.
Grootslang laughed in a low, evil rumble as she approached the Tree of Life. “Grow me another pod,” she said aloud for all to hear, but the remainder of her creation wish was whispered for Ixco alone. As she requested, the Tree of Life grew another seed pod, which contained just two seeds: a black and a white. These were taken by Grootslang to be planted in one of the remote regions of the land. “I will plant the black seed, which will grow into a tree to rival Keesi-Tu. This will be the Umdhlebi Tree, and the fruit it will bear will hold the secrets of life and death.”
Grootslang laughed again, then turned to face D’aangi Myrr, who stood nearby. “As for you, I will bring forth a new brood of creatures that will hunt and slay your children, their mortal enemies by right of birth.” Then Grootslang departed, still holding the black and white seeds. After planting the black seed in a desolate place, she disappeared with her fellow monsters into a dark hole at the foot of the Umdhlebi Tree, a cavity in the Earth to mirror the place of emergence of the five pythons, a terrible, dark place that would come to be known as the Wonder Pit, the Lair of the Serpent Queen.
It would remain for D’aangi Myrr to sneak into the Wonder Pit to retrieve the white seed and restore the balance of life and death to the world. But that is another story.
https://www.deviantart.com/elderscroller/art/Grootslang-981237791
Scott R. Robinson 