Chapter 4 — The Seed

Snake continued his investigation the following day. It was gloomy and gray outside, the sun hidden by clouds and fog. Snake preferred it this way, he did not have to wear his cloak. Still, in its stead, he wore a long sleeved top. 

The bridge’s arch was tall and proud. Snake had always wondered who built it, and how they even managed to. Perhaps Fallon’s ancestors. Perhaps Alaric’s.

That wasn’t what was important, anyways. Snake had decided to take for granted this sun-less day. He sat with his back to a tall red oak tree, deciding he would catalogue any people who cross over. He had three people written down by the fourth hour and decided this plan was not sustainable. The seed that had planted itself yesterday had grown. A violent thing—its roots poked at his ribs and wrapped around his heart until he couldn’t breathe.

Snake stood up, leaning against the tree to steady himself.

***

“I do not understand why King Fallon chooses to keep that freak around.” A woman sighed, “He would be much happier with a prince. Or, at the very least, someone more beautiful.”

“They’re not in a courtship, Liz, he is just the king’s scholar.”

“Fallon’s pet, more like. Have you noticed the way he follows him? They practically hump each other’s legs.” A second man rebutted.

“Fallon will tire of him eventually. Surely, the king can do much better than that.”

The way she had said ‘that’ made Snake’s blood boil. It bubbled beneath his skin, causing callouses. Fallon wouldn’t tire of him, would he? No. He needed Snake. Who else would deliver his letters to him? Who else would send them back out? Who else would plan the trades between kingdoms?

***

“I can’t do this anymore. I can’t, I can’t.” Laina grieved her own life, knelt on the floor before Snake.

“You are old enough to care for yourself, boy, so do it. Because I am done.”

“But what will I do?” Snake tugged at the skirt of her dress. It ripped when she pulled it away, causing Snake to stumble and fall to the floor, too. Then Laina stood up.

“You will figure it out. Just as I have.”

“What did I do? Are you angry with me?” Snake cried, standing up to quickly follow her. Little footsteps drummed against wood until it was no longer wood but grass. Laina’s stride was much faster than Snake’s jog. He ran, stumbling once more over a root poking out from the ground.

“Wait, Laina,” He pleaded, hands covered in soil, knees equally stained. Snot dripped from his nose as tears poured freely, falling where they may. “Please, hug me before you leave.”

“I’m afraid I can’t. If I do, I’ll no longer want to go.”

“Then do it,” Snake urged, his voice cracking, fist slamming into dirt before he stood back up. “Stay. Please, Laina. Stay with me.”

“I can’t.”

***

When Snake came to, four bodies lay before him, one of the men still had an arrow lodged in his chest—an arrow left untidied near the bridge.

“Oh, Gods..” Snake breathed, his eyes widened, skin clammy and breaking into a cold sweat. His heart thudded against his chest rapidly, nearly painful.

“No, no, no, no…” He breathed, kneeling before them, checking for breath, for a heartbeat, for any sign of vitality. Gone. They were gone.

***

Snake had been investigating a murder he committed. 

How could he have forgotten such a thing? Such a truly, terrible, demonic thing, They were right—the shaman, Laina, his parents, Alaric. Snake brought misfortune, he carried evil on his back like his cloak. His red eyes were gifted by the devil itself. This was unforgivable. 

The roots had secured their place about his heart and ribs and lungs, branches tore through his skin and eyes and nose and mouth until he was no longer discernable from the oak he leaned upon. Its leaves were already changing color, though they were not beautiful like Autumn leaves, they were gray and black and wet. 

A single apple grew, bright red. Poisonous. A soft breeze would let it fall, and it did, before Snake’s feet. The apple was him, he realized.

One bite would ruin the consumer. 

Snake turned on his heel, praying to the skies above and the earth below that Fallon wasn’t home. He had to fix this. But how? Tell Fallon? Then, he would for sure leave. 

Snake couldn’t count on both hands all of the lucky stars he possessed when he returned to the castle to see that Fallon was not there. 

He closed the door to his study with a shuddering breath, locking it. He tore up every paper with names of potential suspects. 

By the time Snake finished, the study looked as though he'd attempted papier-mâché without glue or water. The floor was scattered with parchments, some pieces larger than others, but still it would be hell to clean.

Fallon used the key to open the study, leaning against the doorway. “Perhaps I should get someone else to investigate.”

Snake simply sat there, gaze shaking as he met the king’s, his chest rising and falling.