Author's Note: It's been a long time since I've written fanfiction, and even longer since I've pulled out my old Aladdin VHS tapes to refresh my memory on the nature of the series. I decided I'd give it another shot, and of course use my favorite villain: Mozenrath. I don't think Disney intended for Moze to become so popular amongst an older crowd, but isn't that how most fanfiction is? In any case, the story is still in its infancy and will be updated as my muse sees fit. Read and review.
Viperinae
by Shadovar
In youth, one is often taught that nothing is as it seems and that above all else—appearances are deceiving. This is most probably the reason snakes are representative of all that is deceptive and wicked in the world, and in light of recent events, one could not blame them. Snakes were sleek and deceptive, could wear the mantle of harmlessness as easy as any lamb or doe in the brush, but when cornered—when provoked—their strike was as swift and deadly as a blade, and their poison was as corrosive as acid. It was most likely why she had been given the moniker of Adder, but collectively, the trio of hard-born assassins was called the Viperinae, each taking on the name of a chosen serpent that played to their strengths. Of the trio, the Adder was considered the most deadly for its poison was slow to act, dragging its victims into agonizing minutes of fever and flashes of hindsight before their failing vision before they took their last seizing breath and all was lost. There was no one in living memory who had ever successfully staved off the assassins, and their only natural rivals were just as destructive and they were called the Immortalis. The Immortalis offered their services and loyalties to none but their god, and the Viperinae were little more than mercenaries armed with the training and knowledge of the human condition that would make the hardest heart quake.
They were precisely the individuals he needed to ensure that his plans would go smoothly. However, getting in contact with the vituperative vipers was a lot easier said than done, and it was a long and tiresome task of calling down their handler—a god that was little more than a child playing chess with human lives. He materialized shortly after moonrise, and with little fanfare that was expected of gods of his immense caliber. The sorcerer watched him with a cool, expressionless stare, and when he met the god's eyes, he saw that there was nothing there…nothing but the cosmos. Stars and planets, galaxies wheeling within his vision, a nebula gave birth to more stars before they died. Mozenrath witnessed life and death in cosmic form with one look before the god began to speak.
"You are quite persistent in your call, little sorcerer." His voice plucked at the delicate web of magic that permeated the Land of the Black Sand as if he were attempting to pluck out an appropriate dirge for the sorcerer who stood before him. Mozenrath did not falter. He had lived long enough and seen more than enough at Destane's side to be able to stand before a god and not cower at the might of his presence alone. Instead, he smiled, giving a flourishing bow as if to mock the god, who continued to watch him impassively.
"I would not be the ruler of this land if I lacked for persistence, your eminence," the sorcerer remarked sweetly, "but rest assured I have called you for a purpose." The god's chin inclined towards the sorcerer, cosmic eyes narrowing.
"You seek to contract the Viperinae." Mozenrath's smile stayed even though he was not surprised the god already knew his intentions. The god said nothing more, as if waiting for Mozenrath to confirm the assumption. When the god seemed to find what he needed, he continued.
"You have the desired method of payment?" Mozenrath paused, even as Xerxes slithered from behind him, observing the god curiously with his beady eyes and misshapen mouth agape in awe. The god did not even acknowledge the eel and instead fixed the sorcerer with a relentless stare that remained consistent. Mozenrath grinned.
"You will be paid in full, your eminence, not to worry…" His voice trailed as he caught sight of the slight tension in the god's jaw.
"…once the Viperinae complete their assignment in success of course." The sorcerer turned and began to walk, and was surprised when a steely grip stayed his steps. Mozenrath hazarded a slow glance towards the eminent being at his back, saying nothing. The god was smiling, and the young sorcerer was almost certain he was mocking him.
"The Viperinae will succeed. I'd have no use for them otherwise. But the payment will be collected the moment their task is finished. If not, then you will pay the price yourself." Mozenrath did not understand the nature of the "yourself" portion, knowing it most likely ran the gamut of a blood sacrifice, but he said nothing, enamoring the god only with a smile of acquiescence before he continued on his way.
"They will arrive three days from now. Instruct them as you see fit and have a care with what you say and do to them. I will not harm you, but they are trained killers and will not hesitate to bite the hand that feeds them if the hand is too firm for their liking." The god spoke as if these assassins were his children, as if they had been trained at his very hands—which was likely true if Mozenrath read the legends properly. However, he could not help himself.
"And if they turn and I destroy them?" He posed the open-ended challenge with all the petulance that he was known for. The god's brows rose and he laughed, a sound that plucked at the very fiber of Mozenrath's existence. And then, the god was simply not there, but his laughter chased the sorcerer down the empty halls of the Citadel and into his study. Three days from now he would have at his beck and call the most deadly assassins the Seven Deserts would ever see.
Three days from now, everything would be his.