The Serpent's Tears

When I was younger, I was happy. How could I not be? I lived with my mother and my father, in our house beside the sea. During the day you could make friends with the sea life, laugh with the seagulls and play with the crabs. At night the ceaseless comforting sound of ocean waves would lull you to sleep. The only thing I wished for was my parents to be happy too.

They thought I wouldn’t notice. That I was too young, that their yelling was somehow quiet enough. Yet even a complete stranger would notice the constant tension between them. It was for that reason that if I didn’t go to the ocean, I would go to the big library in my house and lose myself in books. Even if it was just for a moment, I could be a fearless adventurer, or a demigod, or a proud member of Thunderclan. Then I’d put down the book, look up, and see the disapproving face of my mother after she called me to dinner “20 times”. As the years went on, and slowly the light of happiness died out from my life, I found myself coming back to the library almost every day, and I read almost every book that could be found.

As I grew up, the problems would grow worse and worse. Everything was explained away. The broken glass on the floor one day was a mischievous ghost that visited the house. The matching bruises on their arms was them falling down the stairs together. My father was sleeping on the couch because the bed was too uncomfortable.

Soon after I turned 12, my mother left in the middle of the night, and I never heard from her again. Three years later, my father would explain to me that they planned on keeping a unified front for me until I turned 18, but she wouldn’t deal with it anymore.

I suppose I should have seen the warning signs then, when I was 15. I should have seen the near-constant coughing, the fever, the times when my father would clutch his chest when he thought I wasn’t looking. Yet after a year, and a special trip to the city, my father came back with the solemn news. He had tuberculosis. The wasting sickness. The doctors didn’t know how much longer he had to live, as we couldn’t afford the medication.

Distraught, I did what most humans would do. I ran away, to the one place I felt safe. The library.

Once there, I ran my fingers along the familiar bookshelves. The bumps and ridges comforted me, made me start to think more rationally. Perhaps there was a solution to this?

I thought for a second, then stopped. I couldn’t, it was mere superstition, an old wives’ tale. The longer I tried not to think about it, the more I ended up doing so. The serpent’s tears.

I got the big step stool, went to the top shelf, and reaching up, got the book down. It was huge and dusty. I hadn’t read it for years. Inside of the book was a collection of myths and legends surrounding this place, including the one I was looking for.

Finally, after flipping through that book for a very long time, I came across a picture of a huge terrifying snake emerging from the ocean in front of a small humanoid figure. The figure was raising a vial, and water from the serpent’s eyes was flowing into it. This was my goal. I nervously read the passage.

The Serpent’s Tears

Long, long ago, there lived a good sorcerer, focused on helping the people

He worked tirelessly, and saved many lives

However, tragedy struck, in the form of a plague

In the midst of all the death, the wizard knew he had to do something drastic

He went to a nearby lake, and with his dying breath, inserted his life force into it

He intended for the villagers to be able to drink from the waters and live

What he didn’t know was that lake was inhabited by the serpent, Epoi

The serpent took the wizard’s magic, and mixed it with his poison

He began dispensing it at a terrible price

No one knows what happened to that village

However, there are rumors that serpent will appear to those who go to the water

And call its name three times

I sighed. Was this really what I was going to do? Risk everything to save my father? I assumed the “terrible price” would be my life. After all, the magic mixed with the poison of the snake.

A small part of my brain started speaking. I tried to ignore it, but it was too loud. Maybe the most merciful thing to do would be to kill him. He was going to die at some point, why not end his suffering now? In his sleep, quick and painless. Even if the serpent’s tears worked, it wouldn’t make him immortal. It would just prolong his time.

Then I realized, if I killed him, I would be a murderer. Could I honestly go through life with that on my conscience? Also, I spent my entire life by the sea, in this house. If I killed him, I’d be all alone, and I’d have to go into the city to carve out a life for myself. Am I that brave?

I looked out a nearby window, and saw a boat. For so long, I felt like an anchor, especially after my mother left. Without me, my father could go get the life he deserved. Also, I couldn’t be alone if I was dead. My father might be sad for a time, but in the end, he’d be free. He’d find a new love, a real love. I could help him so much, and at the expense of what? My life? All I’ve ever known was this place, I don’t have a life to speak of. I suddenly remembered a line from a book I read once, that every human has a purpose and a reason to live. I shoved it aside, maybe this was my purpose. To make the ultimate sacrifice of love. Or is it selfishness?

I waited until night fell, and then made my way to the ocean, guided by the light of the moon and stars, with only a small bottle in hand. It wasn’t a lake, like in the story, but all the instructions said was “the water”. I stopped for a moment, and listened to the waves. This could be it. This could be the end of my life. I took a deep breath, and called out “EPOI, EPOI, EPOI”.

The waters were completely still, save tiny laps on the sand. The wind moved through the beach, tousling my hair. There was no sound, just complete silence.

I felt sad. I told myself it was because there was no way of saving my father, but deep down I knew it was something else. As I turned to leave, I heard a strange sound. Like a drop of water.

I whipped around towards the ocean. The moonlight shone on its scales and gleamed on its fangs. Its eyes were turned directly at me, and I felt frozen in place. The giant sea serpent Epoi had arisen from the depths.

It hissed, and then started speaking. I could hear its voice in my head. “What does a child like you want from me? The great Epoi?”

I swallowed and channeled all the bravery I could. “I need your help. I need the serpent’s tears”.

“I care not what my venomous magic is used for. Yet for someone so young, I must ask. Are you aware of the price you must pay for such a thing?”

“I have carefully considered my options, and I am ready to die”.

The serpent paused for a moment, and then threw its head back and started convulsing. At first I thought it was about to throw up, and then I realized it was laughing at me. “You stupid humans, you all think the same. You think it just ends with death? No. The price is that for the life force I dispense with the old fool’s magic, I take the essence of the person who asked for it in exchange. Your soul would merge with all the others in my body, and pieces of it would be dispensed with every new request I receive. You would live for centuries, but you’d slowly disintegrate into nothing until no part of you remains. Do you still want this?”

I recoiled in horror. That was worse than I ever could have expected, and there would be no way of going back. Yet also a part of me noted the poetic nature of it. I’d be slowly dying, but helping so many people, not just my father. At the end of it all, I’d just disappear entirely. What more could I want?

I held up the bottle. “I accept your terms”. The snake’s eyes widened for a second, then narrowed. “Very well then. And to whom would you like this delivered to?”.

“My father”. I watched as a strange silvery liquid flowed from the snake’s eyes into the vial. It shook a bit, then disappeared.

“It’s done.”

I looked at the snake and closed my eyes. It was a bit like falling asleep, the way my body slowly faded away. I knew I made a decision that would likely haunt me forever. Yet I also knew I made the right decision.