The Serpent’s Daughter

Her feet stammered for a moment as she stood on the threshold of her mother’s hut. Binti had walked this ground many times, it’s soft well trodden earth known to her as well as the lines in her own palm, yet it felt different, strange. Perhaps the ground was the same, it was Binti herself who had transformed, in preparation for the ritual, her mind had begun changing so it could catch up to her body when the time came. Steadying her breathing, she closed her eyes to say a prayer to Nyoka and all her daughters. When the trembling had gone from her, she entered the hut. 

The faces of all the older women from her family were turned towards her in rapturous glory. Their expressions, as varied as the pairs of eyes focused on her. Great-Grandmother, her eyes almost taken by the milkiness, somehow still managed to gaze at her, with pride and wonder, her aunts all looked at her with a sense of awe, but her mother’s eyes were the heaviest of all, it took her a moment to recognize the joy, warmth and relief emanating from them. Her mother had worn the mantle as long as Binti could remember and today that duty would pass on to her. 

As the ritual began and she drank the violet liquid sloshing around the silver chalice, Binti began to lose herself. Her Great-Grandmother was the first to begin the chanting, her low throaty voice ululating throughout the dawn. She was joined in short order by the rest of her brood and the hut started echoing with sonorous prayers to The Serpent Mother.

As the sun climbed, more and more women came to the hut, some took part in the singing, some helped Binti’s mother in adorning her. Some merely sat for a while before taking their leave. This continued until dusk, by this time Binti’s eyes had rolled all the way back in her skull, only the whites showing. 

Somewhere along the way, she had been disrobed, her body was covered in grey flower petals. Her face had been painted with silver and gold. The color of Nyoka’s eyes. Her long luscious hair, much like her mother’s, which had never been cut since she had been old enough to walk, was braided and treated with special sap. Making her hair writhe and dance like Nyoka’s children.

During all this, Binti felt like she was floating above her body, her mind occupied a space infinitely vaster than the hut. She was surrounded not only by her mother and great-grandmother, but all her ancestors, dating back to the Great Serpent Mother herself. She felt all their eyes on her, imbuing her with power and purpose. 

When the sunlight all but faded, Binti arose of her own accord. The singing and dancing stopped and the women parted to allow her to leave. Unbidden, Binti began walking towards the forest, to stand at the shore of the great swamp. She would fulfill her destiny and bring glory to Nyoka. 

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Grace was cursing her luck when her 4K RED camera wouldn’t adjust to the dark. She’d be writing a scathing review under their Amazon page later tonight. Her dad had to pull so many strings at the ministry of culture to make her a part of the ceremony committee and those idiots had told her at the last minute that she’d only be allowed one handheld camera, no lights. Growling in frustration, she marched with the rest of the bureaucrats and press corps towards the swamp. On the bright side, Grace thought, this would definitely ensure she got the media studies scholarship in Berkeley. Plus it would do wonders for her YouTube channel. 

Already she was mentally composing her college essay, it would center heavily around the fact that Grace was one of the few non diplomats ever allowed to view the ceremony in person. She had just hoisted the tripod in the knee-deep murky water when the commotion around her alerted her to the appearance of the Medusa. 

Grace had seen this sight in pictures and videos many times growing up, but seeing it in person was a transcendent experience. She understood now why they didn’t allow her to bring any lights. The way the moonlight glinted against the Medusa’s scaly body and regal face would’ve been ruined. 

Grace realized that the girl standing at the other side of the swamp was no older than her own sister, who’d be fifteen next month. But the way she was poised, with half-lidded eyes, made her seem as old as the mountains. Grace finally saw how a solitary woman standing at this shore had terrified would-be invaders throughout history. This tribe had always been exempted from conquest, the tales of their protectoress spread far and wide. 

During the 19th century, British soldiers had vanished in this forest. Stone statues had been discovered in their place, to this day, historians debate whether those statues are elaborate carvings or something more. None-the-less, those statues are the only exception of the British empire coming across artifacts that it left behind. This emboldened the local freedom fighters, who adopted the Medusa as their symbol and led their nation to victory. 

Since then, it had been a yearly tradition, the Prime Minister of their country would visit the forest once a year, to worship the Medusa. All the pictures of her that had been taken so far, were difficult to tell apart. Leading some to conclude that it was the same woman, protecting their nation throughout millennia.

All this went through Grace’s head as she looked at the girl, for only a moment, Grace held her gaze. Something deep echoed inside her chest, Grace had to avert her eyes, it was almost like staring at the sun. When the girl had walked away, Grace took her camera and made sure all the footage was there, before packing up, she named the file “The Immortal Medusa”.