The Serpent's Invitation

A young man called Rael lived with his wife at the far end of their village near the base of a mountain. He was known throughout as a harmless man who never did anyone wrong. Most agreed, including his wife, however, that he was too nice and perhaps impotent in the face of hardship. So it came to pass that his wife grew tired of his bland disposition and demanded he see the shaman.

“Go and see if he can do something about your insufferably docile temperament and don’t come back until you can seduce me with a gaze,” she said. So Rael scampered off to the other end of town where the shaman lived.

Rael arrived outside the shaman’s yurt and meekly called out to him. The shaman emerged and invited him in. Rael told him what his wife had said and asked if he knew of a solution to his problem. The shaman went to the back of his yurt and, after some shifting around of belongings, came back with a wicker basket with a lid on it. The shaman presented Rael with the basket and opened the lid. Inside was a venomous snake which was feared throughout the village. Rael drew back.

“What am I to do with this?” he asked. The shaman replied, “Invite it to bite you.” Rael dashed out of the yurt.

“I would never!” he said over his shoulder. The snake, as if it had understood him, raced out of the basket after Rael and struck him on the foot. Rael shouted and collapsed to the ground. The shaman called the snake back to its basket. He shook his head at Rael.

“The bite always comes. Your only choice is to accept it or delay it, but it always hurts more when delayed,” said the shaman. Rael struggled to his feet and hobbled back home. He told his wife what happened then collapsed.

He awoke in his bed to find his wife applying wild herbs and medicines to his foot. He was running a high fever and was very weak. Rael remained bed-ridden for a month, but his condition never improved. Finally, his wife said, “I cannot understand why the shaman allowed that snake to bite you, but I fear he is the only one that can help you now. I shall call him and demand he cure you.”

“So, the wife of the feeble one has come,” he said. “I will gather some things. Wait a moment and then you can take me to him.”

Rael saw the basket when the shaman entered the room. He whimpered at the sight. The shaman removed the lid, revealing the snake inside. Rael’s wife shouted.

“Why have you brought that cursed thing here?” she asked. The shaman gave Rael a stern look. “Invite it to bite you,” he said. Rael’s lip quivered. He glanced around the room for a means of escape. His eyes pleaded with his wife.

She stamped her foot. “Just do it,” she said.

“Serpent,” he said, “I invite you to bite me.” The snake slithered out of the basket, onto the bed, and up to Rael’s face. Its forked tongue licked Rael’s nose, who turned away in agony. But, instead of striking, the snake kissed Rael on the cheek and returned to its basket. Immediately, Rael was cured of the snake’s venom and regained his strength. He arose from his bed to the great astonishment of his wife. The shaman smirked and left.

From that day on, Rael became known as one of the most discerning, rugged, and virile men in the village, able to navigate through any trial and to seduce his wife with just a gaze. Together, they brought forth three children to whom he taught strength, dependability, and courage, the values his father had never taught him.