Zarqa Al Yamama (زرقاء اليمامة) - Oracle of the Sands and the Blue Eyed Dove

Spin off on Zarqa Al Yamama being an oracle/soothsayer. Not just gifted with far sight and precision, as her tale goes.

This rendition of the character is presented in many forms - for her homeland, which was conquered and destroyed, used to house the most vast array of exotic birds of the desert and the oasis. Yamama meaning Dove, and Zarqa pertaining to her unique blue eyes.  Now, she provides refuge for these birds in her cave and travels alongside them in her caravan, accompanied by a devoted entourage. These avian companions possess the keenest of blue eyes, serving as her invaluable wellspring of knowledge regarding the sprawling desert landscape encompassing her hideaway. Her own eyes are fashioned from pure lapis stones, a gift acquired through her mother's consumption of these raw gems while bearing her child, bestowing upon her mystical abilities beyond the mortal realm.

Zarqa now traverses the unforgiving sands, a spectral echo of the person she once was, prior to her homeland's tragic downfall. Nevertheless, her spirit perseveres, and she continues to share her prophecies with those who can seek her out and are willing to pay her in chests brimming with pure lapis lazuli.

Many seek her guidance, but tales frequently lead them astray, toward charlatans posing as Zarqa or deceitful fortune-tellers preying on the gullible. Discovering her true whereabouts demands time and unwavering determination, as seekers navigate a labyrinth of secrets and their origins, traversing the spaces between cities and canyons. Their quest is driven by the desire to hear their own fortune, their prophecy, and their ultimate destiny.

The fragment presented here is part of a merchant's diary, discovered amidst the ruins of an archaeological site. It's the relic of an ancient city that endured a great, as-yet-unknown calamity.

~~~

Annalynn Hammond, "Soothsayer" and "Strange Bird" - edited myself for the post.

The precise moment of our meeting remains veiled in the mists of time. The memories blur and coalesce, manifesting vividly in my dreams, as if I had but moments ago gazed into her eyes upon awakening. 

Those eyes, by the gods, those eyes! They were pure lapis lazuli stones, meticulously carved into perfectly round irises that graced her visage. The way those stones turned, ever so slowly, left to right, seven times, tracing the contours of my face as if dissecting my very soul. I swear I could hear the grinding of those stones within their leathery sockets, and the flapping of a hundred wings as birds of every color perch above us. The birds of Al Yamama. The Oracle, Zarqa.

These memories of her, of it, are inescapable. Nor can I escape the fateful words she uttered, the revelation of the very day when I shall meet my ultimate demise. Not just my own, no. A demise awaiting us all. All us fools.

I am certain that a mere glance into this diary will allow me to recollect the day when I set forth in pursuit of her. That day that I embarked with a hired caravan of camels and nomads who claimed to have traded with her devotees deep in the desert. 

 

Sepulchral cave of the Djebel necropolis. Syria, Syrian Arab Republic. Middle East, Old 19th century engraved illustration, Le Tour du Monde 1863. 

Indeed, traveling with these nomadic guides was a prudent choice, for without their expertise, my return to the city would have been nigh impossible in the state I found myself after encountering her. But it was because of their knowledge of the sands that we found her, and because of them that I am now in unyielding desperation! However, I cannot condemn my guides, for they provided me with exactly what I asked for. For she was the very enigma I had sought amidst those vast, unending dunes. I compensated them handsomely, for coin now holds little value in my eyes. What use do I have for my vast riches when our end is set to be for tomorrow at dusk? It is tomorrow, is it not? The eve of the 11th day of the 11th month, as she foretold.

I wish I could doubt her, to dismiss her as a mere fraud, another charlatan among the countless I've encountered on my journey across the continent. But Zarka, she was truth incarnate, the genuine oracle of Yamamah. Once a mere myth, she stood before me as a living reality, an encounter that has sealed my fate. All of our fates.

My quest had been arduous, my desperation had led me to cheap soothsayers and fraudulent fortune-tellers, who spun naught but tales of deception and guesswork. I traveled across distant lands, seeking solace and answers, until I heard of the fabled location of Zarka Al Yamama. The very name reverberated like an incantation, an echo of ancient whispers and a myth long forgotten. "Has she truly returned?" I remember asking myself. Yes, she has indeed. And it was not only my fate that she sealed that night, deep in her cave of feathers in the sandstone mountain. But the fate of all man that lives and breathes upon these sands, a looming darkness that will turn this realm on its axis. 

I was a gullible, eager supplicant, all too willing to pay the oracle in my weight in lapis lazuli to finally pose the question that had driven me across vast lands. In the face of this ominous prophecy, the question that had once driven me felt trivial and fleeting, as insubstantial as the shifting desert sands. The cosmic mysteries that had once beckoned me now seemed pale and distant compared to the inexorable journey toward my own fate, and the fate of these lands. 

~~~

More on Zarqa later, on her lore, her character and her abilities in detail so she may be of use in different settings and campaigns.