Once upon a time, in a dream I had last night, there was a boy who loved snakes. He just thought snakes were the best. He loved telling everyone everything he knew about snakes, even though they never listened. He didn't understand why women screamed and men chased them away, and was sad when people killed snakes, although even he would admit that they were delicious when roasted. That's how perfect snakes are!
Every year, his people sacrificed one person to the Medusa, the goddess of all snakes, who lived in the forested mountains surrounding their valley. The sacrifice was sometimes a volunteer, but more often a man (or, occasionally, a woman) who had committed some horrible crime. This year, there being no wanton criminal among them, the people searched for someone who would not be missed. Someone who didn't fit in. Someone like that weird, annoying boy who was fascinated with snakes.
So, when the summer solstice arrived, the boy was taken to the temple at the edge of the forest. There were drums and flutes and flags! When the sun reached its peak in the sky, the chief priest himself, with great ceremony, told the boy to go in the forbidden temple and not come back out "until noon tomorrow." So the boy walked through the snake decorated door into the cool darkness.
Of course, it wasn't all that cool and dark inside. Snakes don't really like cold, so there were many windows to let in the sun and the heat. As the boy looked around in fascination at all the statues of people and snakes, he saw a woman approach from an inner door. This must be the Medusa he had heard legends of! The boy was so excited to finally meet her! He had so many questions! So he ran up to her, and took her hand, and smiled up at her mask-covered face.
This had never happened before, and the Medusa was somewhat shocked.
With a finger to his lips, she quieted the babbling boy. "Why do you not fear me?" she asked. "You're the most beautiful, most wonderful person in the whole world. I've wanted to meet you since I was little!" replied the boy.
This had never happened before, and the Medusa was somewhat shocked.
She slowly removed the hood that restrained her crown of vipers, and waited for the boy to scream. When he instead asked permission to pet them, she slowly kneeled down so he could. He pet them and murmured to them, and they spoke to him! They even told him their secret names!
This had never happened before, and the Medusa was somewhat shocked.
When he had stroked and spoken to every viper, he returned his gaze to her face. "Why do you cover your face with a mask? I am certain that you are the most beautiful women in the whole wide world!" So she held the boy's shoulder with one hand while removing her mask with the other. When she opened her eyes and looked into his, the boy looked back at her with astonishment. "You're even more beautiful than I had imagined!" he exclaimed, clapping his hands in joy.
This had never happened before, and the Medusa was somewhat shocked.
Then the Medusa surprised herself. She laughed. She laughed and laughed, then drew the boy to her chest and hugged him until the tears on her cheeks finally dried. She then stood back up, took him by the hand, and led him into her temple, answering his many questions and explaining what things were.
That evening, she regretted having to sacrifice him to the snakes. However, she had done this every year for many centuries, and tradition must be maintained. So she led him to the greenhouse filled with snakes which had been driven by humans from the fields. To maintain proper balance, the snakes must receive their sacrifice in return. After all, she was the queen of snakes, not of men.
So the boy, once again, was told to do through a door and not come back out again until tomorrow. So he regretfully let go of her hand and walked into the strange glass house in the inner courtyard of the temple. It was so warm and humid inside! There were flowers he had never seen before! There were so many snakes he could barely smell the flowers they lived among!
Even though the sun still shone in the sky, the light in the temple began to fade, and the boy grew sleepy. He found the stone bed arranged with silk sheets and a fine downy pillow that was waiting for him. As he lay down, a great many snakes approached. He greeted them, and told them he had hidden a surprise for them. From a pouch he had hung from a cord around his neck, he produced a dozen fat mice. "These are for you. I catch them in the fields all the time. I know you must be hungry, living in this stone and glass palace. Enjoy them!" And then he scattered the mice among the snakes.
This had never happened before, and the snakes were somewhat surprised. However, a plump, juicy mouse was a good meal, and so they feasted, then slept next to the warmth of the kind boy who pet them and asked them their names.
When the sun arose the nest morning, the boy yawned, stretched, then carefully stood up. One mustn't abruptly awaken sleeping creatures, after all. Nobody was at their best when suddenly woken up, or if their tail was trod upon. He drank from one of the many fountains, and ate honey and seeds he found in the wondrous glass house. He eventually found the door again, called and waved goodbye to his new friends, and went back into the stone palace to find Aunty Medusa.
Several years slowly went by, as they do. The boy rapidly grew, as they do. He taught the priests to tell the men to not chase the snakes from the fields, for the lack of snakes brought forth hordes of mice, who ate the grain before the men could harvest it. Aunty had taught him how to make boots from soft leather, and he taught the priests, who taught the men. And snakes and men lived alongside each other, for the snakes enjoyed eating the mice, and the men enjoyed bountiful harvests of grain.
As the boy began to grow into manhood, the men of the valley eventually demanded that the priests make the boy their king. Knowing that their livelihood depended upon the farmers, who had enjoyed both bountiful harvests and a complete lack of human sacrifices since the boy walked into the temple, the priests agreed, but decided among themselves who should be regent until the boy attained full manhood. Which time would, of course, be decided solely by the priests. They chose the most sly among them, or rather, he arranged that they should choose him, and he went alone to the temple to instruct the boy in the proper ceremonies to become king.
Now, the Medusa had lived alone in the temple for many centuries, but knew the ways and dealings of men. Hew snakes went everywhere and heard everything. She had wisely spent the treasure offered to her every year in obtaining books from far away lands, and learned to speak and read in many tongues. After all, what else were long, lonely afternoons for? And not all men were immediately turned to stone in her presence. For some, she had left the mask and hood on, even as she removed the rest of her adornments. Until they began to bore her, of course. But the boy was not her lover, he was her child. He truly loved her, and wanted nothing more than to be near her and listen to her stories of far off lands and long ago times. And play with the snakes, of course.
So it was that during the long days, the regent instructed the boy in ceremony, and in the evenings his Aunty instructed him in the duties and responsibilities of leadership. And in the importance of never, ever trusting a regent who would rule in your name until he declared you an adult, which often took until the regent himself died of old age.
And so it came to pass that one fine autumn day, the regent declared the boy fit to finally present himself to the people as their king. A parade and feast were planned for one week after harvest, and neighboring lords and potentates were invited. The boy, now a young man, was fitted for his sash of office, and a crown of fine copper and lapis lazuli had been traded for. The regent could not wear a crown, of course, so a beautiful hat with peacock feathers was prepared for him. Oh, the valley had not had such excitement in ages!
At long last, after the exhausting efforts of harvest were complete, the day of parade, ceremony and feast was finally upon them! That morning, the regent-priest donned his regalia and, accompanied by all the preists of the valley, went to the snake temple. The priest-regent alone entered the temple. There he found the young man waiting alone in the vestibule, wearing his regalia properly, the priest-regent was happy to see. Surrounded by his beloved snakes, alas. Well, that would change. As the priest took him by the hand to lead him out to destiny, the young man drew a hidden dagger.
That had never happened before, and the priest-regent was somewhat shocked.
Not quite as shocked, however, as when the boy slit his throat while the vipers stung his ankles.
A few minutes later, the young king emerged from the temple, covered in blood, carrying the head of the former regent on a spear, surrounded by a bodyguard of fearsome snakes.
That had never happened before, and the collected priests were somewhat shocked.
And thus the king led his priests in a parade to the center of the village, where he was washed and anointed with oil, and his snakes were fed plump mice. And the people of the village were awed. After their new king accepted his crown of burnished copper and blue stones, he faced down the neighboring lords, kings, and potentates, who had though to use the occasion to obtain favorable treaties and deals with the inexperienced boy-king and his sly but greedy (and well known) regent. And the people of the valley were overcome with joy, and many songs were sung, and many toasts were drunk. And in the evening, the king went back to his lonely temple-palace at the edge of the forested mountains, for the people needed a king, but not every day.
And a year passed, and the king began to feel the need for a queen. His Aunty Medusa could not be queen, for although he loved her, she was his aunt, and taking her as wife and queen would not be proper. Besides, she was already the queen of the snakes, and the people (alas!) needed a more human king and queen. So he spoke to the head man of the village, a respected smith, and requested that the eligible girls should present themselves a few at a time, until a potential queen should be found.
"Aha! Another excuse for a celebration!" thought the smith. And so he spoke to the farmers and the villagers and the head men of the other villages in their valley and the neighboring valleys, and a grand parade was arranged. It was to last two weeks in mid summer, when the farmers had some time between planting and harvesting. And so everyone became excited again, and all (or rather, almost all) the eligible maidens twittered amongst themselves and scolded each other, as young women, like sparrows, are prone to do.
And so it came to pass that the young king sat upon the steps of his temple-palace as a dozen young women were introduced each morning. And each morning, he took them one by one into the vestibule, and uncovered an enormous bowl of snakes. Most girls screamed and ran away. A a few fainted. One or two each day, however, steeled their nerve and stood their ground. They had been properly prepared by their parents, and were resolved. To these promising young women, the young king asked a question: "What are the kinds of these snakes?"
Most of the girls had no idea, and either prevaricated or explained their ignorance. They were each given a small gift, and escorted back outside into the blessedly snake-free sunshine. A few, however, were intelligent and learned and knew one type of snake from another. To there rare young women, the king asked a second question. "What are their names?"
At this, the girls generally responded one of two ways. Some would look at him as if he were crazy, and respond that only people had names, and anyways, snakes couldn't talk. Others would circle the bowl, pointing at and naming individual snakes with what they thought were cute of fierce names. All these girls were escorted back out into the sunshine as disappointments. Until finally, one girl looked at him with confusion plain upon her face. She told the young king, "How would I know? I've only just met them. And besides, their names are a secret they only tell their most trusted friends."
This had never happened before, and the young king was somewhat shocked, but quite pleased.
And thus the king found his queen, who was overjoyed to finally meet Aunty Medusa, about whom she had heard so many wonderful stories. The very next day they were were married in a grand celebration, and the people of the Valley of the Snakes prospered and lived in peace for many generations.
