Serpent's Calling

Serpent heard the sound before its source came into sight. It was a noise unlike anything she had ever heard before, a high pitched screeching and wailing that made her stomach churn. Fear took a hold of her, quickening her heartbeat and freezing her muscles. But soon the initial shock turned into another powerful emotion: curiosity.

Whatever creature or thing was screaming in that dreadful way sounded close, and so Serpent started moving again. Slowly she made her way through the dense thicket, leaving footprints in the soft, wet earth and brushing past tall ferns and low hanging vines. A few moments later she reached a small clearing. By now the crying was unbearably loud, and Serpent had to resist the urge to turn back when, all of a sudden, a slight breeze swept towards her. It carried a peculiar scent that somehow felt familiar, though she could not possibly imagine having smelled it before.

Mustering all her bravery Serpent stepped up to a gap in the undergrowth and, making sure to stay hidden in the shadows, she peered out onto the glade. And there it was: a creature just as foreign as the sounds it was making. It was quite small and might barely have come up to Serpent’s shoulder. It had a large, rather round head with two round ears and a flat, and almost hairless, face. A wide-open mouth revealed a few tiny, blunt teeth. Above the mouth protruded a stubby nose, which had slimy liquid dripping from two nostrils, and a pair of closed eyes. From between the eyelids came droplets of water that left shiny tracks on the creature’s slightly dirty skin. Besides some short, dark fur growing on the top of its head, the creature was covered in some sort of thin, brown material. Although this made it impossible to discern whether its body might have venomous spikes growing from it, it looked entirely harmless. The four short limbs didn’t appear very powerful, and its two chubby hands were clawless. And in any case it had yet to notice Serpent’s presence.

Suddenly Serpent realised something. The little creature sitting in front of her was merely a hatchling. She had no possible way of knowing this, and yet she was entirely certain that this being was still at the dawn of its life.

Before she had time to consider answers to all the questions that were flooding her mind, she noticed the silence. The hatchling had stopped screaming and its now wide-open eyes were looking straight at her. Could it see her?

Serpent held her breath and didn’t move a muscle, but those large brown eyes with their round pupils stayed focused on her. The stare was mesmerising and Serpent found herself wanting to move in closer. A few seconds later she felt sure that there was no longer a point in hiding. The hatchling had spotted her.

Crouching down and keeping her wings folded tight, Serpent tried to look as non-threatening as she could and stepped into the light. Her scales were tingling with excitement as she slowly crept ever closer to the hatchling that kept gazing at her. To Serpent’s relief it did not suddenly turn into a ferocious beast wanting to make a meal out of her, nor did it seem frightened by her. It rubbed its eyes, which were no longer losing liquid, got up onto its short legs and slowly started walking towards her.

The expression on its face was so different now compared to what it had been when Serpent had first laid eyes on it. She felt sure it had been distressed or perhaps even in pain, but now it seemed to be just as curious as she was. And Serpent was completely entranced by it.

It was so long ago since anyone in her colony had had hatchlings of their own, and the last two had not survived their first storm. Serpent had forgotten how wonderful it was to have such innocent eyes looking up at her. But there was something else stirring in her as well. Something she could not quite grasp, as if it were lodged somewhere deep in her subconscious. And whatever it was felt as though it was being tugged at by the weird, wingless hatchling that was now standing right in front of her.

Serpent lowered her head to be level with that of the hatchling. Up close she could see its dark eyelashes and the fine hairs growing on its brow. She could smell its breath and hear its heart beating fast. A few of those heartbeats later the hatchling reached up with one of its hands. For another heartbeat the hand hovered next to Serpent’s head in hesitation. But Serpent did not pull away, and felt the hand press against her jaw. She leaned forward and, with the tip of her snout, touched the hatchling’s forehead. Another heartbeat and then: BOOM.

Serpent felt herself being flung through the air by an invisible force that sent sparks rushing through her veins, and before she hit the ground again her mind and soul were ripped from her body.

Suddenly her world was one of flashing lights and blurred images racing through her: colours unlike any she had seen before; landscapes that were unknown to her and in parts unimaginable; open water as far as she could see; mountains with peeks hidden in clouds; plains of pure white, glistening in sunlight; a night sky hung with curtains of brightly coloured light. All of this accompanied with a cacophony of sounds she could not place.

After what seemed like an eternity, Serpent felt herself disappear in darkness and then return to her body. She was lying on the ground, her left wing twisted beneath her, and her head buzzing. Where the hatchling had touched her, a warm, throbbing sensation remained. What had happened? How long had she been unconscious? And where was the hatchling?

Serpent opened her eyes, but it took a few seconds for her vision to clear. She tried getting up on her feet and found it hard to keep her balance. Her head was so heavy and her limbs felt gelatinous. Only when her surroundings finally took shape again did the dizziness ebb off. Immediately, Serpent’s eyes searched for the hatchling and found it lying on its side a few wingspans away from her. Apprehensively she crept closer.

A wave of relief swept over her as she saw its small torso rise and fall with slow breaths. She rushed closer, making sure, however, to stay out of reach. The hatchling’s eyes were closed and its face relaxed as though asleep. It looked to be unharmed.

Serpent’s mind was racing, her thoughts fighting against the headache and the images of her strange vision that were still haunting her. For a few moments, she was completely unaware of the gloomy forest around her. She did not notice the loud calls coming from somewhere behind her. Nor did she notice that whatever was uttering those calls was drawing nearer by the second.

A loud crunching thud just next to her brought her senses back to life. Her head spun around. To her right, where she had heard the sound, a long piece of smooth wood was now sticking out of the ground. And to her left Serpent saw two creatures she instantly recognised to be of the same kind as the hatchling. They were, however, substantially larger and far more intimidating. One of them held another wooden stick like the one next to her. There was an unnaturally pointed piece of stone attached to one end of it, and then it dawned on her. The creatures had thrown the other stick, and she felt sure they had not meant it to miss her. And as they kept running towards her, roaring, she had no doubt that they were still intent on harming her.

One thrust of her wings and Serpent was airborne. She twisted away and beat her wings fast, trying to reach the safety of the treetops. Her muscles were on fire, her throat painfully dry, and her heart close to bursting. She did not dare look back for fear it might slow her down and could only pray that the other spike would not suddenly pin her down.

Crashing through the lowest branches of the tree closest to her, she gripped whatever her claws got hold of and pulled herself up further. Only when Serpent felt sure that there was an adequate amount of branches and leaves between her and the danger below to sufficiently shield her, did she stop climbing. Unsure if the creatures could follow her up the tree, she looked down trying to make out what they were up to, but to no avail. The tree’s foliage was hiding her from sight just as well as it was obscuring her view of the clearing.

Serpent closed her eyes and listened. She only heard muffled noises, but after some time the sounds grew more distant until there was nothing to be heard but the usual humming, buzzing and chirping of the woods.

Slowly Serpent started her descent. As the ground below came back into view, she studied it carefully looking out for any signs of movement. The clearing was deserted and the creatures were nowhere to be seen. Even the stick they had thrown was gone.

Serpent flew down from her hiding spot and landed just outside the clearing. The afternoon rain started falling, bringing with it a cool calm. She was grateful for the water running over her strained and exhausted body. Trying to process everything that had happened, a powerful fatigue settled over her and with dragging feet she made her way to a nearby tree. She lay down next to it, nestled between its roots, and curled up her body beneath her left wing. It was not long before Serpent fell into a deep slumber.

She woke up slowly. It wasn’t raining anymore and even through closed eyes she could tell that it was past nightfall. For a split second she was unsure of where she was and why she was there and, just as the memories came crashing in, she heard someone whisper.

“Look, she’s waking up.”

Serpent jolted upwards, her eyes wide open. After having adjusted to the lack of light around her, she spotted three members of her colony: Aardvark, Vulture and Kinkajou. Being hunters, like Serpent herself, they were all named after the first animal they had ever killed. They were standing huddled together, looking up at her. Looking up at her? Something was wrong. Why were they so small? Serpent’s heart sank when she realised they were not small at all. She herself was a lot larger than she had been when falling asleep. Taking in her surroundings and looking down at herself it was clear that she had at least doubled in size. Everything that had happened since finding the hatchling was turning into more and more of a nightmare.

Panic started boiling in the pit of Serpent’s stomach. The trees around her were moving in closer, threatening to crush her. She desperately wanted to move but her feet were stuck to the ground and her wings tied to her back. Her lungs were empty again before she had even exhaled, and her head was floating. She closed her eyes, dug her claws into the ground, and tried to slow her breathing.

“Serpent, is that really you?”

The question came from Vulture. She was easy to make out in the dark with her pale yellow scales. Serpent needed a few seconds before she was able to answer.

“It’s me. I don’t know what’s happening to me.”

“When you weren’t back at the colony by sundown we started to worry. We found you like this”, said Aardvark.

“Do you know why you were lying here?” he continued to ask.

Before Serpent could answer, Kinkajou suddenly blurted out, “What happened to your face?”

She, like the other two, was doing a bad job of hiding how terrified she was.

“Why? What do you mean?” Serpent asked, her own panic flaring up again.

“On the right side of your face, along your jaw. It looks as though… you lost some scales.”

The hatchling’s hand had left a mark.

Serpent took a deep breath and recounted everything that had occurred since she left the colony in the morning. When Serpent had finished her story the other three hunters exchanged glances of disbelief, confusion and fear. Finally Vulture broke the silence.

“The Unhatched will know what to do. Come on, we should head back.”

And with that they started making their way back to the colony. Vulture, Aardvark and Kinkajou ran ahead and Serpent followed. Her new size needed getting used to. Distances were difficult to gauge and although she was moving slowly, she covered more ground than expected. Afraid of accidentally harming her companions, she tried her best not to get too close.

The darkness turned the already extremely overgrown jungle into an oppressive mass of sounds, smells and textures, which had Serpent feeling overwhelmed and on edge. And added to the shadowy mess around her came the turmoil in her mind. Usually she would be lying in her cave by now with a full stomach, imagining what it might be like to fly through clouds.

After a successful hunt, Serpent would often fly up into the tree tops before returning home, just to have a better look at the sky. She often wondered if other members of her colony were as tempted as she was to explore the world beyond the woods, but she did not dream of asking anyone.

As a young hatchling, Serpent had been told many times never to stray too far from the colony and never to fly above the trees. After asking why a few too many times, she had been sent to see the Unhatched for the first time. She remembered being horribly frightened beforehand and even more so afterwards. He had shown her terrifying images of monstrous beings that patrolled the wood’s perimeter and the skies above, waiting for her with long claws and mouths full of sharp teeth. For weeks she had barely been able to leave her cave, and even today the beasts would often find her in her dreams.

But the years had passed without her ever actually seeing one, and slowly she had grown to be less afraid. Right now she wished that the fear had never left her. Perhaps things might have gone differently today. Perhaps she would not have gone to investigate the crying. Perhaps she would not have gone far enough to even hear the crying in the first place.

Serpent and the others were about to reach their colony’s home. It was a system of rocky caves and tunnels spanning across a huge area deep beneath the earth. The only entrance was a large hole in the ground. When Serpent reached the opening the others were already waiting for her and talking among themselves in hushed tones.

Vulture turned to her and said, “Kinkajou and I will go ahead and tell the Keepers we’re coming. You’d best wait here with Aardvark until I return.”

Serpent nodded. Vulture and Kinkajou jumped down into the black cavity and disappeared in the deep.

Aardvark was staring off into the distance, making sure not to look at Serpent directly. He was tense and obviously not too happy about having to stay behind with her. Minutes passed. Neither of them spoke. A few more minutes passed. Finally Serpent could hear wings flapping down below, and seconds later Vulture reappeared by the edge of the hole.

“They will wake the Unhatched now. You should fly ahead.”

Serpent stretched her wings. Flying might feel different now, and she was about to jump into a dark maze. She knew if she waited much longer she would be too scared to try and so, taking one more deep breath, she leaped into the darkness.

To Serpent’s relief, her wings still carried her. As there was hardly any light to see by anyway, she closed her eyes and focussed on the map in her head, trying her best to account for her new size. Once or twice the tips of her wings brushed against cold rock, but after a few long minutes she arrived at her destination unscathed. She had landed in front of a cave entrance on the right side of the tunnel. From it came an eerie yellow light, throwing ominous shadows onto the tunnel walls. Across from Serpent stood Kinkajou, and Vulture and Aardvark now landed on either side of her. They looked at Serpent expectantly and so she entered the cavern.

The yellow light came from a pit in the centre of the cave and flickered across its dome-like ceiling. By the edge of the pit stood the two Keepers Zenith and Nadir. Zenith was of a pale green, almost grey colour, and Nadir had dark red scales and was blind in her right eye. The two females were very old and had been Keepers long before Serpent had hatched. Although they had to have been warned about Serpent’s changed appearance, they both stared at her in shock and terror. This, however, did not lessen Serpent’s fear of them. There had always been something about them that made her scales itch.

“Come closer. He is waking,” said Zenith.

Serpent walked up to the pit and there at its bottom the Unhatched came into view. After her first meeting with him she had seen him only one more time, when the whole colony had gathered for him to bless the last two eggs. Every time it was a peculiar sight to behold.

In front of Serpent lay a large, bulbous living thing. Red veins snaked their way over its slimy surface, pulsating rhythmically. It was steaming slightly and the rising vapour dried out Serpent’s eyes, nearly making her gag. The repulsive object was an almost transparent egg and glowing from within was the Unhatched: a small and unshapely body, floating motionless in bubbling liquid. The light coming from him was bright enough to make it hard for Serpent to fully identify his form, though through squinted eyes she could just about recognise a large head that made up for at least half of his total mass. He was many hundreds of years old, maybe even thousands, and no one knew why he had never hatched or how he managed to keep on living inside his egg for so long. And everyone who might have known was long dead and so it had been forgotten. From where he had gained all his knowledge and power was also a mystery no one dared to question. He was left to sleep in his cave, and the Keepers watched over him day and night, waking him only if new eggs had been laid and needed his blessing, or to scare rebellious hatchlings into obedience. Or in circumstances like these, though Serpent assumed this had to be a first.

Suddenly, the Unhatched twitched and moved in its egg, and now seemed to be directly facing Serpent. It sent a shiver down her spine. She was not ready for this.

“Give me your name.”

His deep booming voice reverberated from the cave walls. Serpent knew that as soon as she would say her name the Unhatched would gain access to her mind and memories. She could not quite recall what it felt like, but her intuition told her it was not going to be pleasant.

“Go on. Speak,” Nadir hissed at her.

“Serpent.”

The Unhatched entered her consciousness and it was horrible. In seconds it was as if he had dug through all her memories with long poking fingers. Serpent grit her teeth and felt her legs buckling beneath her. He clawed his way forward in time, until he reached the events of the last hours. He saw the hatchling, saw how it had touched her. For a moment he forcefully held onto to that image before fleeing from her mind again.

Serpent fell to the ground panting. Beside all the discomfort of having her mind ransacked, she had felt something else. It had only been for a split second, but just before the Unhatched had torn himself away from her again, something had shifted within him. He had been deeply horrified. Horrified by her.

Before she had to time to comprehend what had just happened, the Unhatched started screaming. Serpent’s ears rang from the incredible volume of his voice, and it took her a second to actually hear what he was saying.

“Leave! Leave! What have you done? Leave us!”

Serpent backed away trembling. She looked at Zenith and Nadir, who now faced her with bared teeth, while the Unhatched’s onslaught continued.

“Get her out! She will be the end of us all. Get her out and don’t touch her.”

Serpent had reached the cave entrance now. The two Keepers hissed and snapped at her, and now too were shouting at her to leave. Back in the tunnel Serpent frantically searched for someone who might stand by her. Someone who might help her. Apart from her fellow hunters, others had now gathered near the cavern, but all of them kept their distance, staring at her fearfully or snarling at her.

“Please,” Serpent heard herself muttering. But her voice was drowned out by the Unhatched’s cries and the Keeper’s chanting.

“Leave. Leave. Leave.”

More and more joined in until their voices enclosed her, echoing through the tunnels.

“Leave. Leave. Leave.”

She could not bear it any longer. Crying out in despair, she took off flying and raced back the way she came. Wanting to escape the yelling, she flew as fast as she could, but it did not stop. Every member of the colony appeared to have woken up and come out into the tunnels only to take part in her assault. She kept flying, her wings slashing the stuffy hot air around her. Getting further away from the Unhatched’s cave meant that at least his voice was quieting down. However, it also meant that she was flying through utter darkness again, and her anguish and distress had her senses muddled. Misjudging one of the tunnel turnings, she crashed against the rough rock, scraping her left wing. She scrambled and pushed herself off the wall, using all her might to remain airborne. Two more turnings and she had reached the tunnel that curved up towards the forest. The passage was dimly lit, so it had to be past daybreak by now.

A few more wingbeats and Serpent burst out into the woods. She landed, but carried on running. She did not know where she was running to and she did not care. She needed to get as far away from her colony as possible, and only came to a halt when the blood rushing in her ears was finally loud enough to drown out the voices still ringing in her head. Her entire body was shaking and her chest heaving with sobs and howls that overcame her uncontrollably. After a few minutes she finally calmed down. She felt hollowed out. Her mind was blank. Her stomach was empty. Realising how incredibly hungry she was, she made her way over to the next fruit tree. She could not bring herself to climb up it, and so she settled for the fallen fruit lying around the base of the tree. The orange fruit was a bit too soft and sweet, but enough to satisfy the hunger gnawing on her insides. Only a day ago she would have been full after just one, but now she found herself eating three and still having space for more. She abstained however, and carried on walking.

She could hear water rushing nearby and soon reached a muddy riverbank. It was probably the same stream that flowed over some of her colony’s caves, but she could not be sure as she had never been this far up stream. She drank a few gulps of water, washing away the sticky sensation the fruit had left on her tongue. When she lifted her head again she suddenly noticed her reflection. She twisted her head slightly and there on the right side of her face she could see the mark Kinkajou had pointed out. It was a patch of smooth, completely scaleless, skin in the shape of a small five-fingered handprint. And while the rest of her scales were still their usual shade of dark green, the mark had the same colour as the hatchling’s skin.

Serpent wondered what might have happened to the hatchling and, just as she conjured up its image in her mind, she heard its voice again. Startled, she spun around, her eyes scanning her surroundings. The hatchling was nowhere to be seen and yet she had heard it so clearly. There it was again. She closed her eyes and listened carefully. The call rang out a few more times. It seemed so close, but she realised it was coming from far away, and she felt as though only she was able to hear it. The cries were calling for her. The sensation was powerful and, without questioning it any longer, Serpent started running.

She ran along the riverside as fast as her legs could carry her. Up ahead the stream flowed into an incredibly wide river that split open the leafy canopy above her and revealed a blue sky with soft white clouds in the distance. Serpent had never been out in in the open like this before and she was thrilled. The sky was empty of dangerous foes and even if there had been any, a sense of invincibility was roaring inside her. She knew the hatchling needed her and nothing could keep her away from it.

Serpent understood now that her size was not the only thing that was different about her. Something had changed within her the moment she had first heard the hatchling, and she was still changing. And it started feeling good. Perhaps this was what had frightened the Unhatched so profoundly. He had lost his power over her before she herself had even realised.

In front of her the river came to an abrupt end. She was racing towards a waterfall and skidded to a halt just next to its steep drop. In front of her a deep canyon had opened up through which the river continued its path. Incidentally, where the river cascaded downwards, the woods to her left also ended. She had reached their edge. They made way for a dry earthy plane that carried on for as far as Serpent could see, and never before had she seen so far. But there was no time to marvel at theses new and awe-inspiring sights. She still felt the hatchling reaching for her and now she could see why.

Still quite a way ahead, gathered near the crevasse, was a large group of creatures. Creatures like the ones Serpent had encountered yesterday. One of them was separated from the rest of the group and stood dangerously close to the edge of the canyon. It was very tall, had long white fur flowing from its head, and with outstretched arms it was holding something over the gorge. It was holding the hatchling. Although Serpent couldn’t possibly recognise it from this distance, she knew it was her hatchling.

Some of the creatures closest to the white-haired one were moving about in a way that made her feel even more uneasy than she already did. They were jumping around, kicking the air with their legs and swinging their arms around madly. She could not bear to watch any longer. Something was going to happen and she needed to act.

Serpent pushed off the ledge and dropped down alongside the falling water. The crashing below her was deafening, and the air rushing past her was cool and wet. Just when she entered the glistening haze that formed at the bottom of the waterfall, she opened her wings and with immense velocity started gliding forwards, the wild river beneath her.

Then she saw the hatchling fall. She beat the air beneath her wings, building up even more speed. Everything around her faded into blurred strokes of colour racing past, and Serpent could only see the hatchling dropping ever faster. She stretched out her arms preparing to catch it. It would die if she missed.

One more thrust of her wings and she reached the hatchling. She gripped her claws shut. Her right hand swiped through air, but her left closed around one of the hatchlings limbs. Flapping her wings she pulled upwards trying to counteract its weight that pulled her down with sudden force. Then she levelled again and carried on gliding to catch her breath.

Serpent looked down and saw the hatchling dangling from her claws. She changed her grip, held on to it with both her hands and turned it around so that it was facing her. She was surprised to see that not only her appearance had changed over night. She had left a mark as well. On the hatchlings forehead shimmered a patch of green scales.

The hatchling was gazing up at her like it had done yesterday. For a moment Serpent was unsure if it recognised her, but then its eyes lit up. It opened its mouth and started making loud rhythmic noises. Serpent felt the sound travelling through her entire nervous system, leaving her feeling utterly joyful.