Early morning light flirted with glittering stones inside the stone cavern where our tale begins. Cool, calm, quiet, and damp, it was not an extraordinary cave in and of itself. This cave thought nothing of it, however. Long ago, people had mined it of its gold and silver, leaving moonstone and pyrite to glisten and glimmer in the far-reaching sunlight. The cave thought this splendid and enjoyed the echos it gave of men's voices as they sang and labored. The cave prided itself on giving the measly voices a booming resonance, pleasurable to the ear.

In its depths, snakes and bats went about their lives, only mildly disturbed at the intrusive workers and noises of metal biting stone. stalactites and stalagmites grew at their respective paces, not minding the outside world one bit. An underground river rushed and flowed and squabbled in place of babbled on its rather argumentative way. Little streamlets found their way to large, deep pools of calm water, pure and sweet and blue as twilit sky, if they ever knew such a color. 

All these things lived, died, and went on their way just the same until the day when the songs stopped. Suddenly, after so long of music, arguing, laughing, grunting and crying, the only noise were the ones the animals and waters made. The cave thought they were too small to make echo properly, and so the cave became still and lonely until the day came where our heroine came in. 

Technically, her mother actually brought her in. Pregnant, in pain, and hurt beyond mere existence, a woman of dark hair stumbled into the cave seeking shelter from the storm raging outside. At least, the cave thought to itself, it sounded like a storm. Howling screams and wails and water splashed about. Little did it know, as caves usually do, that outside of itself was a mob of men and women, angry and shrieking like banshees throwing holy water on everything. Someone had started a fire in the regrowing forest around the cave  mouth, and the simple folk believed it to be devils fire.

The woman that started the fire, Ashling, panted and moaned as loudly as she dared. She gathered her gown up about her and squatted, placing her cloak beneath her in a bundle, and began to labor. She pushed and cried and set her back to the stone. The cave had seen many births, and warmed its walls as best it could for her. It called to the animals living within, and to the waters flowing through. Somehow, do not ask me, but somehow the animals brought food and bedding made of leaves, moss, and pine branches unscathed by the fire. Water backflowed until it formed a small pool at her side, and spiders wove beautifully intricate blankets to cover the forest loam. The cave called the wind, and it blew small embers and sparks onto a pile of kindling set up in the middle of the cave and ignited. The cherry fire was small, but in the safe confines of the stone walls it warmed everything up quickly and well. 

As Ashling worked to bear her child, the cave brought another kind of bear. It thought it a clever pun, and convinced the local matron bear to come and help the human along. In her agony, Ashling cared for nothing but giving her baby life. The bear, Moira, cleaned her paws and snout in the small pool, dried herself by the fire, then used her muzzle to massage Ashling's belly and gently rubbed her thighs, mindful of the three-inch claws.

Finally, after many long and hard hours, when the crowd outside had long since doused the forest fire and gone to their homes,  Ashling cried out and birthed a baby girl. Moira helped Ashling to rest on the bed and washed the wee babe. Even the cave, who knew very little of such things, found the child odd. 

The babe's skin was a shimmering, soft-scaled opalescent color, and on her head a small lock of red glimmered in the firelight. The bear took care in washing the baby, licking away the membranes covering the short nub where the baby's two legs should have been. The baby was a child of a Naga, an immortal snake god, and Ashling, a human. 

Ashling lay panting, drinking water slowly and eating a little of the offered food. She accepted the baby from Moira and cuddled it close, knowing that her magical child was why Nature had caused such wonderous help to happen. Her baby was going to be, and already was, someone  special and important. More importantly, however, in this world of intolerance and xenophobia, the baby was unsafe. She had to be kept safe, until her part would come into play. 

Sitting up, Ashling prayed that her child would grow up safe here in the cave she was born into, guided by the inhabitants and Moira, whom she sensed was not a normal bear. She felt her life slipping away, piece by piece, and she cried for her beloved baby, the Naga she fell in love with and lost, and for the fate her baby had to face alone. She whisoered to the cave in general, "Please, take car of her... my Ashley. Her father's favorite aunt was called Leigh, and she was brought into this world by the ash of the burning forest... find a way to tell her... when she is...ready..." 

She kissed the baby, who cooed and curled close. In all her five minute life, the child did not cry. Her eyes opened and looked of Dragon's eyes, gold and the pupil slit vertically. "Stunning..." murmured Ashling. SHe took a deep breathe, and begged of Moira, "Keep her safe. Her father's family will be hunting her... tell her I loved her."

With that, she died, and the snakes of the cavern piled themselves around the wee child. They agreed among themselves that they would keep the little princess, for that is what she seemed to them, safe and teach Naga heritage to her. The spiders agreed to teach her the arts of a lady, like sewing and music and weaving, and how to gather information and favors about her. The bats decided to teach her to hunt for herself, which foods were safe, and how to listen to counsel. The cave would teach her safety and how to listen to the world about her while staying calm and standing her ground, and Moira would raise her as best a bear could raise a human-snake hybrid. 

Moira would teach her love.

As time passed, Ashley grew into a beautiful woman, prettier than her mother. Scales grew hard over vital parts and her tale became long and powerful, muscled from her daily movement and swimming. Her upper torso was that of a normal human's, albeit covered in scales, while her bottom half resembled a snake. She had a rattle on the end of her tail, and it would shed on her birthday every year. 

Now, not many know this now, and most certainly none knew it then, but children of immortals and humans age differently than children of either species. Immortals age at ten times slower than humans do, and so hybrid children age at five times slower. As the immortal blood is diluted, so the aging rate quickens, until the descendants may as well be pure human. 

Ashley was no exception. The Nature Council, as the groups inside the cave called themselves now, did not worry about her development, and as a result many, many generations of short-lived guardians helped raise the little snake girl. The exceptions to this were the cave, ageless and beautiful for eternity, and, oddly enough, Moira. Moira was not a normal bear, but her story is saved for another time.

Now, we call Ashley's species type a Medusa, and so it has been since the beginning times of Ancient Greece. How she became known to the world as a natural born snake-girl, and not a gods-created creature, is the focus of this myth. For her, her story begins when her mother met her father.

For us, it starts when she awoke on the morning of her one- hundred- and- twenty-fifth birthday to sunlight, warmth, and birdsong. 

This is where our heroine begins to discover her destiny.