The fox tames the snake

The fox tames the snake
A tale as hidden as the elephant inside the boa constrictor,
from the Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry.

written by Erinys Seraphimiko

Yellow, as the desert where he came from, was the snake, slithering through the grass, green as the first spring day.

'It is done,' he hissed. 'Everything went according to plan.'

'He did not suspect at all?' A voice answered from within a hill.

'The Prince?' The snake answered, 'he does not suspect anyone, not the humans, nor his beloved rose.'

'All is well, then.' The fox emerged from his hiding-place, yawning and stretching. He was white, blinding white, and his eyes were a cold green-grey. Those eyes greeted the deep purple slits that were the snake's own, and the fox thanked the snake.

'My Master would thank you a hundredfold. He can give you all the rats that you wish.' The fox declared proudly.

'I do not desire to feed on rats.' The snake silently replied.

'Well, we have to finish the job. Where is the body?'

'Beside the well. I hid it from the human. I wanted to bite him, but he knew I did not have enough poison for a second victim. All I did was scare him.'

'He is not part of the plan. Humans have never held much interest for the Master.' The fox paced back and forth, then stopped.

'Is the human gone?' The snake nodded in answer.

'You will lead me to the Prince.'

The snake and the fox slithered and walked their way through the meadow, the garden, and on to the well in the desert where the Prince's body lay. Acting as a rope, the snake tied himself around the Prince, while the fox dragged the burden all the way to the temple where the Master lay.

'Master?' called the fox, tired and panting.

'Is that you,' a voice cried weakly, 'my most loyal servant?'

'Master, I have found you a worthy shell. It is young, fresh, and pure; I am sure you will like it.'

'Is it innocent? Will it last? I am so tired of this body, my child, I grow weak everyday.'

'I understand, Master. What you do, your task, requires strength beyond immortality.'

The snake listened quitely by the door, curled in a swirled cone, resting.

'Who is your friend?' The Master asked his servant.

'He is not my friend. He is merely an instrument necessary for the fulfilment of our goal. He did very well and deserves our gratitude, my Master, but he is not my friend.'

The snake remained silent.

'I see. Thank you for helping my servant. What do you wish for in return?' The Master asked the snake kindly. 'I can grant you anything, as long as it is within my power to give.'

'What can you give, my lord?' The snake asked timidly.

'I do not usually give, but I take. I am the poison in your venom. I am the wedge of the blade, the spirit of thirst and hunger, the vacuum of breathlessness.' The Master explained. 'However, if you wish, I could refuse to take your soul, and you could go on forever.'

'I am grateful, my lord, but you are cursing me.' The snake said. 'To be immortal is to be cursed, and that is not what I wish. I wish--'

'I know what you wish, and I cannot give that to you. You must seek it yourself.'

'But if you tell him, ask him, he will obey you!'

'I cannot ask that of him. He is free to tame whomever he wishes.'

With that, the Master retired to his chamber and addressed the fox. 'Thank you. I am fine now, you may leave. You shall lead the snake back to the desert, and when he desires it, I shall give him his gift.' He picked up the Prince's body delicately, carried it in his arms, and shut the door.

The fox was left behind with the snake. 'Thank you. My Master now can go on happily with his job.'

'Happily? Is there happiness in death?'

'Why, you give it to beings freely, do you not?'

'I have no choice. It is what I was made to be. To survive, I must kill another. I wish I were like you, a blessed creature.'

'Chasing chickens is not blessed. I also kill to live. Don't we all?'

'Yes. The cacti kill the ground by robbing its water. The weeds kill the roses. The night kills the day...'

'Wouldn't you agree, that the funniest of all are the humans? They kill themselves to live.'

'The problem with humans is that they never tamed themselves.'

The snake and the fox reached the desert. A violent sandstorm was gathering, the strong winds hurtling rocks and sand all over the place.

The fox shouted, 'Come, you must not stay here.'

'I have nowhere to go; this is my home. Sandstorms are as common to me as blizzards must have been to you.' With that, the snake slipped away and disappeared into the dunes.

'Wait--'

'Watch out!'

A heavy, massive boulder was right behind the fox, and it shook with the wind, threatening to collapse at any moment.

In a flash, the snake whipped the fox out of the way, and the boulder crumbled into a pile of rocks, burying the snake underneath.

The fox tried to free the snake, but the storm was too wild. So he waited, a white dot in swirling yellow, a stranger, a creature loyal to the end.

At last, there was silence. The snake's head found its way through the rocks, and he called the fox. 'Please, tell your Master, I got my wish. I never knew what it meant--to be tamed--but now, he can give me death in peace.'

The fox, no longer white, but a smatter of yellow, brown, and grey, walked away. A hen was laying an egg; he chased it, killed it, and had it for dinner. And so the cycle of dying for living goes on.