fable name: Liujin「柳金」(& the snake, who neither has nor wants a name)
prompt:
- ● ☽ ◐ ◯
It was a fine summer’s evening when the visitor’s hooves first trod the high valley’s road. The waxing moon was nearly full, hanging round and white-gold in a deep violet sky. The warm, humid southern winds had blown through, rousing the crickets into a storm of chirping, and coalescing into a thin fog that blanketed the ground and swirled at every step.
The high valley was a small valley bisected by a single paved road, threading a line north-south between two narrow mountain passes, each guarded by a single watchtower. Guards had been stationed at both towers in the past, but the towers stood empty now, the valley and its tiny village deemed too unimportant to defend. It was here that the visitor bought a room at a little roadside inn, and settled down for the night, to sip wine and water and rest her weary feet.
So it was that the visitor came to stay in the high valley. Her penchant for lounging about and spouting insincere flattery made her insufferable to most, but gave her a great deal of free time to chat with a strange snake living nearby. It had taught itself to speak by listening to the inn’s staff, or so it claimed, but the visitor, Liujin, self-proclaimed wandering warrior, was the only one who was willing to converse with it. It was, in turn, a rapt listener, ever-fascinated with her ludicrous tall tales of monster slaying, and in time they became fast friends.
● ☽ ◐ ◯
Summer was a time of plenty, of abundant trade and the ripening of the spring growth, of sweet berries and milled barley and splashing in the ponds on hot days, of the flicker of fireflies among the reeds and fields at night and the chirps of frogs in the streams.
Autumn, too, was a time of celebration: of the harvest coming up the road from the lower floodplains, of bushels of rice and oranges carefully packed and carried up the mountain roads, of sitting outside in the evenings to enjoy the cool air and wandering the fields in the mornings to watch the rising mist and the turning the of the leaves.
Summer and autumn were golden, but winter was the withering season, when the icy northern winds howled through the peaks, and the passes became treacherous with snow. As trade dwindled to a scant trickle, food and coin alike became scarce, and that’s when the trouble began.
There were whispers up and down the road, passed between the small, scattered villages that huddled in the mountains. Whispers of travelers that disappeared in the long nights, of wreckages of caravans discovered in the morning, splintered and smouldering, or tracks that veered wildly off the road and into the frozen dark. A monster, the whispers began to say. A monster had come to these mountains, clawing its way up the road, chewing up travelers and villages on its way. The rumors drew ever closer to the high valley, until one dim, grey morning, when a stranger came racing up the cobblestone, wild-eyed with terror, crying of something that had waylaid their entire traveling party on the road.
When Liujin heard, she retreated to her room. She gathered up her few belongings, sat down by her table, and waited for the sun to set.
It was there that the snake found her. It poked its head through the window, as it was wont to do. “They say there’s a monster coming up the road,” the snake hissed. It peered hopefully at her. “You’ll fight it, won’t you? You said you are very good at that.
Liujin was silent. The snake continued, “No one else here knows how to fight monsters; we’ve never seen one before.”
“No.”
The snake hesitated. “Huh?”
“It’s not a monster.” Liujin stood. “It rarely ever is. They’re just bandits. I would know.”
“Oh,” the snake said. “You’re still going to fight them, right? That’s why you picked up all your things?”
“I…”
“I’ll help!” The snake lifted the upper half of its body off the floor. “I like the inn; I would be very sad to see it destroyed by bandits. Or a monster.”
“You…” Liujin seemed taken aback. “You said you’d never bitten a fable before.”
“No, but it can't be so different from biting a rabbit.” The snake seemed rather pleased with its logic.
Liujin stared at it for a long while, and sighed. “Alright. Sure.”
—
It was a strange and solemn sight that evening, under the empty eye of the southern tower. A lone swordsman standing in the middle of the road, for once deadly serious, watching, and waiting.
Her opponents emerged as night fell. Three shadows slinking along the path, converging slowly upon her, weapons flashing grimly in the faint light.
Liujin watched them approach. “I hate an unfair fight, you know?” she began.
“Step aside,” one of the shadowy figures called. “And empty your pockets while you’re at it.”
“Three of you and one of me,” Liujin continued, ignoring it. “There’d need to be at least double your numbers to make this even.” She took a single step forward. “Better turn around and head home, yeah?”
There was a short, almost stunned, silence. And then one of the figures lunged forward.
It was a brief and vicious struggle. Liujin proved herself more honest of a woman than anyone had thought that night. She moved with a practiced grace, shining in horn and scale, sword flashing sleekly like a ribbon of light in the night. The villagers gathered in the distance to watch as she dispatched their attackers, one by one driving them howling back into the dark. When a knife flashed across her face, she did not flinch. When another aimed for her side, she knocked it away, answering with her own steel. She was unstoppable, her blade inevitable, a continuous, twisting arc of motion that stilled only when all three of her foes had fled.
Liujin stood there for a moment. She was just catching her breath when the spear came sailing out of the dark. Above, a fourth bandit, perched on the hill above—the snake darted for the figure, desperately sinking her teeth into its leg, hanging on as it cursed and shook, hanging on until the slash of a knife forced her to let go, the bandit taking off into the sky, but it was too late. The spear had flown fast and struck true, piercing through the scales on Liujin’s back to devastating effect.
Liujin swayed, then staggered. “Help me.” Her hooves scrambled at the ground, hindquarters suddenly limp, eyes wide and a hysterical foam flecking the corners of her lips. “I don’t want to die, not like this, please…” Her voice shook, a plea directed at anyone, anyone— “Please, help me…”
There was nothing the distant observers could do. One by one they all turned away, nervous and unable to bear the sight—all but one. The snake slithered frantically through the grass, coiling around Liujin’s body, as if to staunch her wounds. “Liujin! Liujin! I… I’ll help…” She swung her head around, searching in vain. “My friend, my best friend, stay with me, please—your back—I’ll fix it somehow, there must be a way to fix this, ah, if it’s an unbroken spine you need, then I would gladly lend you mine!” She lifted her head to the sky that the fables spoke so highly of, the light of the full moon in her unblinking eyes. “She’s my friend! Help her, please, let me help her!” she beseeched, frantic. If ever a snake could shed tears, it was that snake, on that road, under that moon.
If there was such thing as a higher power, perhaps it took pity on the snake that night, and took her up on her offer. Flesh and bone grafted together, a portion of the snake’s long and unbroken spine to repair Liujin’s shattering. Even so, her injuries were grave. She would need a long time to heal. The snake, too, was weary and wounded. Perhaps that is why, by light of the too-bright moon, the pair was turned to wood, cream and green like fresh-cut willow, as if to say, “We yet live.”
● ☽ ◐ ◯
They buried them under the watchtower, shrouded forever in mist and shadow. For honor they painted their scales in white lacquer and gold leaf. For gratitude they draped them in beads and cords and strung talismans around their resting place. For centuries did they wait. Even when the lamps burned out and the tower fell silent, with nary a distant hoofstep to be heard in the halls above, the swordsman and the serpent lay dormant.
● ☽ ◐ ◯
It was a fine spring evening when a whisper sounded at the tower’s base. For the first time in decades, someone had visited the tower. They had not closed the door on their way out. As the faintest of breezes crept into the vault, a certain lively light began to glimmer in the statue’s eyes. A breath, and they toppled to the floor, Liujin gasping, coughing out centuries of pain in an instant—and suddenly she was awake.
A pale, faint light flickered to life along the curved edge of Liujin’s horn. Where was she? She remembered the road, and the spear, and… and then what? Her tail felt strange and heavy.
“Liujin!” The voice was frail, but seemed to gather strength as it continued. “Oh, Liujin! You’re alive! You’re standing!” She turned over her shoulder, and stared as the snake twisted and curled up on itself to look at her over her back. “It worked!”
“What..?” Liujin turned again, to stare down at her legs, experimentally tapping her hooves. “What happened?”
“I think I helped.”
“I see,” Liujin said, in the voice of someone who did not understand at all. She fell silent for a few moments, looking herself over, curiously inspecting the beaded and knotted charms hung around her. She shifted her hooves again, watching a bit of gold flake off of her fur. “Do you think we could buy food with this?”
“The gold?” The snake curled around again. “Yes, I think so. It looks real.”
Liujin sniffed. “It’d better be real. We didn’t do all that to be decorated with counterfeits.” She shook her mane, grunting. Then her voice lowered. "Thank you," she whispered. "I never thought anyone would do something like that for me."
"I have a great deal of spine anyway," the snake replied. "As long as we both stay alive, I will be happy."
Liujin nodded. "Sure. I'll..." She took a breath, abruptly changing the subject, eyes settling on the stairs winding up to the exit. "Where shall we start then? A nice meal?"
The snake hummed happily. "Yes, I would like that very much."
_______________
*Liujin's name is a silly pun on on 沈炯 Shen Jiong's《十二屬相詩》"Twelve Zodiac Signs" from the Northern and Southern Dynasties era + 「留近」 "stay close" + the gold flakes 🤓
