2. The Poison Prophecy

Donat knew exactly what his mother was going to say, and he hated it, but he couldn’t walk away. The Connido had evolved quite a bit. They had grown in size, grown legs, and now walked on land as a combination between a wolf and a lizard. A long body and tail, but short flat paws. No fur, but a face like a dog.

“Stay close,” mother said. “Never move alone. No dark places. Don’t bite animals, makes them angry, and we are not venomous anymore. Not like old days. And if—”

“Why not? How did we lose it?” his little brother asked, who hadn’t learned yet that mother lacked an answer. She kept on walking and pretended not to hear.

“And if you think you see crocodile head, then—”

“Yes yes yes,” Donat interrupted. “Listening to you, we’d see a crocodile in every insect! Oh no! An ant that looks green! Must be a crocodile that—”

“Don’t joke about deadly danger! Remember the prophecy.”

Donat remembered it all the time. Because everyone said it all the time. Every year, some fools would listen to it and … die, so no, he wasn’t participating.

But he couldn’t turn off his ears and certainly couldn’t walk away from his family. He once tried placing his paws against his ears, but as a quadruped this just made him fall down.

“The prophecy has been passed from parent to child, for centuries, starting with the last one who had the Venomous Bite. Something that survives this long must be true! The one who defeats a crocodile again, shall bring back the venomous bite.”

She nudged Donat and his brother. “So work hard, become strong, and defeat that crocodile! Save our species!”

Her face saddened. Donat knew why. The second message that had been passed around for centuries was about their declining numbers. Without the Venomous Bite they could barely gather enough food. The Connido were once the terror of the seas—known to all, feared by the clever ones—and then suddenly they weren’t. Where did their venom go? Why would something so useful disappear!?

Donat wished they’d taken something else. He would trade some teeth for poison. Or his tail. That thing was too short to attack with, to long to forget. The sharp hook at its end didn’t do much either.

They had finally be able to move the Book, out of the water. It was now hidden in a new circle of plants and trees. They didn’t fear theft; they feared one of the demigods snatching it away. They regularly visited and asked about “The Book”, but if you asked for specifics, they became very secretive.

Donat visited the place, happy to be free from his mother. He studied the Book nearly daily. He’d stare and stare, almost through the pages, looking for answers. These were the symbols of the gods, for surity. He’d once seen Bella scratch similar symbols into trees or other objects.

To him, however, they were just scratches. Was he supposed to involve the gods? Ask them to translate the book for him? Just the thought sent shivers down his spine. Mother would kill him! He’d be the shame of the entire species. The gods would just steal the Book and disappear, for surity.

Perhaps he feared the gods more than crocodiles. He’d heard how Ardex had murdered all meat eaters on land for centuries and hid that from the other gods. When the Connido moved onto land, the gods had fortunately just decided to allow it. What if the gods found the Book and … punished the Connido? Bad things, bad things for surity.

After all this time, his ancestors had found the three most important pages. The one about Cona first discovering her abilities. The one with the exact date when poison disappeared. And one with a drawing of a mouth capable of the Venomous Bite.

You needed three things. Three things that Donat repeated and sought everywhere.

Firstly, you had to make the poison. Somewhere in your body, poison had to be made just like making blood or spit.

Secondly, you had to deliver the poison. There had to be a way from the poison to your mouth.

Thirdly, you had to be able to create an open wound. That one was alright: these Connido, whom the gods had named Euchambersia, still had sharp teeth.

The other two were the issue. Either they were unable to create poison now, or they made it but it just never reached their mouth. He had no idea how to find out which it was.

His head rapidly turned. Was that a crocodile?!

No, just a big pile of leaves and stones that made the Bookcave. He always felt safe here—hidden. Maybe that was only because he always felt a little scared and unsafe out there.

He had an idea. He didn’t have to tell the gods about the Book. He could just copy one page, scratch it symbol for symbol in a different piece of wood and ask them to translate that. And if they asked where it came from, he’d play dumb. Yes! A good plan, for surity.

Effortlessly, he ripped off a piece of bark and copied the symbols. He was already halfway when a very strong gust of wind flew past him.

Don’t go looking. Don’t go looking. Wait patiently. Don’t look.

The single gust became several gusts. Then it turned to pawsteps. Many paws. They sounded lighter than crocodiles and soon merged with a cacophony of voices.

A group of animals walked past. The coast was clear.

He stepped out of the bushes, as if he happened to be looking for food there, then joined. They walked with good speed and sounded excited.

“Thissss young? Thissss sssmall?” a snake said. A new species, still in development. This one lacked front paws, but still possessed two hind paws. Apparently, Donat thought, he could’ve also given up half his paws in return for poison!

“Heard it was very big crocodile!” a smaller animal said, which looked like a rat but with longer legs. Up ahead, a dinosaur stopped walking, able to use his gigantic neck to see the events from here.

Events between a huge crocodile and … Donat’s little brother.

Donat did not hesitate. Perhaps he should have.

The other animals kept a considerable distance, as if the crocodile and Connido were on a heightened stage, ready for a performance. Donat stormed through this holy open space and pushed his brother aside. The wooden page with symbols slid from his hands; his brother instantly used it as a shield.

For the first time in his life, he was happy with his tail. He used it to push his brother away, into the safe arms of his mother, as he prepared for his fight with a crocodile. His unwanted opportunity to make a prophecy come true.

Donat did not hesitate, again. Perhaps he should have.