Cona had never expected to get kids, for two reasons. First; she was a tiny animal, a mix between a fish and a worm, and was easily eaten by a bigger foe.

Second; her breath smelled so badly that even seaweed died when she came close. She didn’t know why. No other Connido had any trouble, but her long teeth had held an odd taste ever since birth.

Well, no male Connido wanted to be close to that. Nobody wanted to get close. The animals who could already talk called her smelik and venik. She didn’t understand the words, but she had quickly realized they weren’t positive terms.

Or so she thought.

As she fled a fish much larger then her, she swam deeper and deeper into the sea. To the bottom that lacked sunlight—except one growing dot of light. She was confused. Was she going the wrong way? Was a luminescent creature coming at her?

Slowing down was impossible. She hadn’t seen the beast that chased her, but it bit around itself ferociously and created streams of air bubbles complicating her escape. So she raced to the dot of light, hoping it was her salvation.

Salvation, however, usually didn’t come in the shape of a smooth, perfect, rectangular piece of wood that shone faintly.

She bumped into it. The object tipped up and she crept underneath it. Maybe her pursuer would give up or be unable to find her. It was a faint hope. Most creatures were fine with eating the entire environment just to get that tasty fish.

Of course, dear reader, it wasn’t a piece of wood. It was a book. But these animals barely knew language, let alone what a book was. Cona’s eyes weren’t even good enough to read it. She saw the world in shades of grey, light and dark, no more. Fortunately, though, this wasn’t just any book …

Cona’s hiding place moved. Her pursuer tried to lift it. She pressed her long body closer to the wood, trying to stick to it.

The book fell open as if spreading its wings, then floated upward. It flipped its own pages, again and again, until stopping at one of the later pages. Then it fell back down, as if placing a roof over Cona’s head.

She looked up. The pages held symbols and drawings—drawings of a Connido. One that looked juts like her, even though she didn’t know, for these animals were too primitive to recognize themselves. And the prehistoric ocean had a distinct lack of mirrors, unless Bella lost one. Cona recognized it as a Connido.

One who attacked a much larger beast. Without fear, teeth forward, a bit out of its tough tail.

How stupid! That one must have died! Their weak bite did nothing against such an enemy.

The book seemed to understand she could not read. The longer she studied the page, the more she imagined hearing a noise coming from it.

“Venik … venik … venik …”

Were pieces of wood also bullying here now? She—

Something ripped the book away from her.

She stood before a precursor of crocodiles—a Proto-crocodile. He leapt forward. With the tip of her body, Cona flipped the book upward like a shield.

The green-scaled monster thought he could easily bite through it. But the book didn’t break. As the crocodile pushed his sharp teeth deep into the pages, not even the tip of a page was ripped off.

Cona hesitated. The creature was stuck. With each heartbeat that the book remained stuck in his jaws, his eyes widened and panic struck further. His tail lowered towards the seabed, surrounded by whirlpools of bubbles.

She had a chance. Could it be true? Could her Connido teeth contain something magical?

Would she be able to protect herself forever?

She swam to his hind leg, closed her eyes, spread her jaws—and bit into it with all she had.

The crocodile mostly reacted with irritation. His tail pushed Cona away, but his attention was fully on that unbreakable book.

Cona swam away and noticed the tail stopped moving. As she looked from a distance, his paws stopped moving. Once safe amidst seaweed, the crocodile completely stopped moving.

The creature sunk to the seabed, eyes open, like a statue. The book fell from his teeth, undamaged and just as bright, onto the stone from whence it came.

A trail of yellow-green water flowed out of Cona’s mouth and quickly dissolved in the water.

For the first time in her life, another Connido came to her.

“You winnik against Crocodile! Big Croco! You!”

“Erm, yes, yes, that I do.”

The male Connido did not notice her terrible breath. No, she realized, it was gone. Just for a short bit, then it came back. But this male was already convinced: he wanted Cona to bear his children.

In this time far before the dinosaurs, dear reader, nothing more was needed. Love didn’t even exist yet. He saw a strong female who could beat much larger animals. That had to mean strong children who could also protect themselves well.

It didn’t take long before Cona’s children swam around her. They also had the Venomous Bite.

Their mother proudly watched as they could already defeat bigger enemies at a young age. No crocodile had visited ever again, which she found unfortunate, but secretly liked. Even seeing seaweed in the shape of a crocodile was enough to frighten her.

They visited the Book daily. They didn’t know what it was, or how it worked, but felt that it was important and saved their lives. It was impossible to move, so they hid it in a circle of seaweed and stones.

They regularly visited this sacred place, watching in awe as Cona pointed at that one page repeatedly. They couldn’t tell stories yet—they could barely speak to each other—so it all happened with taps and short words.

“Nice food? Bite, wait, eat!”

Her children yelled after her.

“Crocodile? Turn off its teeth. Then bite, wait, eat!”

Her children copied her, including the scary voice at the word crocodile.

She bore more and more children, all of whom lived a long life. She claimed it was because of her great upbringing and many warnings. Almost all of them had the Venomous Bite—which made the Connido without it the weird ones now.

She regularly swam with her non-venomous children to tell them they were in much bigger danger. That they should flee from every danger—or be eaten.

And so it was that she swam close to the beach, in shallow waters, to give this speech to another child. She grew tired of it—what were her children thinking? How often did she have to say it before they would listen?

“Don’t swimmik alone. No dark places. No biting. If think crocodile head, swimmik away and—”

“Crocodile head!”

“Yes, good, yellik, but also—”

Something grabbed her from above and fished her out of water. She was just a tiny fish. Her teeth were smaller than a hair and would not hurt any bigger land dwelling animal.

The disadvantage of poison was that it worked after the event: the crocodile who attacked her would die, yes, but only in an hour or a day.

She stood no chance.

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.

Eonada knew what her family was about to say, and she hated it, so she walked away. If Donat hadn’t saved her father from a stupid fight with a crocodile, she wouldn’t have even been here. And now Donat was gone. She would have liked to meet her uncle; her father claimed he was the sweetest brother ever. And much smarter than the rest of her family, for surity.

“Don’t walk away!” her mother called. “Eonada! This is important!”

“Bla bla, the Connido that defeats a crocodile will bring back the poison, do this, don’t do that. Everything is forbidden!”

Even though she’d been walking away for years, she couldn’t help noticing danger everywhere too. A shadow quickly morphed into a crocodile’s nostrils. When the sun set, she shivered before actual cold set in.

Even though she was one of the larger predatory animals on this planet—and had never been in actual danger. Her family followed her, but suddenly left her alone when other creatures crowded around her.

The godchildren had decided to visit this place.

Her family grew nervous as if seeing five crocodiles. No, ten crocodiles! Eonada didn’t. She liked the gods, precisely because her family hated them.

A beautiful raccoon stood on two paws and extended her front paws. “You have something of ours.”

“We don’t know what you talk about.” Donat’s mother, her grandmother, played innocent.

Bella sighed. Ardex the tiger and Darus the wolf stood behind her, as if her brothers were her guards. “I wanted to solve this in the friendliest of ways. Could also just raze your small home aimed to retrieve my Book.”

“How is it your book?” Eonada’s mom said, also not the brightest. “We found it first.”

Bella rolled her eyes. “That you found it must mean that another has made it first, no?”

When her family didn’t seem to understand, the Goddess of Wisdom pointed at herself. “I made that book. And now I am sure you have it. So give it to me.”

Her family members studied each others. Even at these moments, Eonada’s direct family was clearly separate from the others. Some saw Donat as heroic, others as weak. Her father had then sworn to never fight another crocodile again, which her entire family had seen as cowardly.

“One one condition,” her grandmother said. “You give us back the Venomous Bite.”

“What makes you think that such gift’s in my power? We are gods of wisdom, fire and earth.”

“Then … then … that giraffe of yours. Or that fox.”

“A little more respect—” Ardex started.

“It would please us,” Bella said, “if you learned the names of your gods. We want to help. We know the injustice done to you in the past. But we did not take away your poison, so we also cannot give it back.”

“Then forget about your book! Never heard of it!”

Eonado had to laugh. What was her goal? Did she really think she could hide that Book from the gods forever? Her family was insane.

“I’ll show you where it is,” she said, still laughing.

If these animals had known curse words, they’d have yelled them all to Eonada now. Multiple Connido tried to form a wall before here. Darus let out a single breath and her family members suddenly all slipped and fell.

Eonado trudged to the Bookcave. Until the moment she pushed aside the right stones, the gods didn’t know where it was.

“I told you,” Darus whispered. “I knew they’d hide it in a cave. Stones—always useful.”

“Darus, we have lost this invaluable Heavenmatter for ages,” Bella said sternly. “I am glad we have found it. I am scared that our own subjects would hide it from us.”

As night set in, the bright light from the Book was hard to miss. Bella smiled broadly and pattered impatiently. The gods circled it. Darus kept trying to touch it, but Bella nudged his paw away.

“What injustice? Eonada asked carefully. “You said injustice was done to us? In past?”

Bella’s paw slid over the pages. Her nails imitated the symbols, as if they were only real once she’d done so, and her eyes wanted to read all pages at once. Under her godly touch, Eonada realized the true power of the book. Suddenly, the number of pages seemed to be in the millions. The three her family had translated by now felt silly and meaningless compared to all of that.

She thought the gods were ignoring her, until Bella crouched and held the book before her. Eonada wasn’t exactly small—Bella was huge, especially for a raccoon. On that page appeared a sketch. A raw drawing, as if it was made on the spot by an invisible hand.

A drawing of her ancestors, who were fished from the water by other animals in large numbers.

“They attacked us?”

“Without warning, all animals suddenly conspired to fish you out of the water. You, Connido, specifically. It was over before we even learned about it.”

Ardex stood at the exit. “Will this take any longer?”

Eonada grabbed Bella’s fur, but quickly let go. “Did they make a secret plan?”

“We don’t know how or why. Your species almost went extinct. Your father …”

“We don’t know that,” Ardex interrupted. “Bella, you shouldn’t present your theories as truth. It misleads our subjects.”

Eonada didn’t understand. Back then, they still had the Venomous Bite, right? That should’ve helped scare off the other animals. Instead they all went to the river, together, to fish for them.

Bella frowned and wiggled her snout, the book stuck under het armpit. She seemed about to say something. Eonada wanted her to say something, for now she really could not return to her family. Her father was a coward; and now she was a traitor.

But the beautiful goddess stood and exited the cave resolutely. “We do not like animals stealing our objects,” Bella said to her entire family, though mostly her grandmother.

“What? A book?” They all looked extremely surprised. “We had no idea it was there!”

Bella ignored it. “If you wanted answers to your questions, you could have just asked.”

“Walk to your Throne? There must be at least fifty crocodiles on that path!”

“Your fear for them is not shared by all.”

Bella turned around and pulled Darus along, who still studied the cave’s stones as if they were newborns. Eonada hopped after them, but Bella raised her hand and increased her pace.

You must understand, dear reader, that these creatures were cold-blooded. They did not constantly keep their own body warm, like humans. That’s not great, as most processes for living things happen faster or better at high temperatures. Now that night had fallen, and taken cold and dark with it, and Eonada barely had food in her belly, it was as if her body had frozen. As if, for her, the world and her body played at half speed.

Head bowed, she returned to her family. Father had been pushed aside already, outside of their territory. Nobody had to say anything. The biggest males formed a wall and the others angrily turned their back.

Dreadfully slowly, with paws that felt as if they held the weight of the world, they shuffled away from their safe home. They were alone, truly alone. In each ray of moonlight, each disturbance in the bushes, Eonado imagined seeing a crocodile. Her father was equally nervous. He held her close and turned his head around and around as if screwing it loose.

It was no use.

Two rows of sharp teeth flashed in the moonlight. Eonado was temporarily blinded and waved her paws forward, but even that happened at half the usual speed. She touched leathery skin, maybe the tip of a tail, but not with enough strength to hurt.

“Leave us alone,” father said calmly. After many meetings between Connido and Crocodiles, they were able to communicate quite well. “We wish no fight.”

The crocodile clenched his jaws after every word, as if eating at the same time. “You know the prophecy. It is time for our fight.”

Her father dug into the earth. “Why do we do this? Why do you take pleasure from killing all my family members? What monsters are you!?”

The crocodile stopped his chattering teeth. “You are food and anything else is moot. You want that Venomous Bite back or not?”

Eonada still wondered how that was supposed to work. If even the gods couldn’t give it back, why would poison return once they defeated a single crocodile?

More rustling. More noises around her. More crocodiles? Was their family coming anyway? She looked behind hopefully, until her stomach took a painful hit—

Her father had thrown some blocks of wood against it.

By the time she looked back, the fight had already started, and was already almost over.

Fonatos knew exactly what his parents were going to say, and he agreed, so he still listened intently. He would not be the stupid Euchambersia who let himself be eaten by a crocodile. If possible, he would be the one to finally defeat a croco and bring back the Venomous Bite. Which was necessary, for fewer than a hundred of their kind were left.

The large asteroid that hit—wiping out the dinosaurs—didn’t help matters either. That was all in the past, but nature was still healing. It had taken a while to finally get out of the ice age that followed it.

They weren’t just fighting crocodiles now, they were also fighting for the little food that remained on the ravaged earth.

“Stay close,” his mother said. “No dark places. No biting animals bigger than you. Never leave territory without at least a group of five. And …”

All children yelled at once: “The creature to win a crocodile fight, will finally bring back the Venomous Bite!”

Fonatos was nearly an adult, yet he yelled loudest of all. Then he immediately went back to training. He ran ten circles through their territory at top speed. He attacked a tree that looked at him angrily—after scratching the angry face in it himself—and tried to bring it down with tooth and tail. Years ago, he could barely chip a few flakes off the trunk. Nowadays he was almost able to knock down the entire tree.

He was strong. He was ready. When the crocodile came, when his time came, he’d win and save them.

Or so he told himself, time and time again, to mask his ever-present fear. When evening came, he almost crawled into his parents, claiming he was protecting them. In the pouring rain, he sidestepped every puddle of water. Even if his mind knew no crocodile would fit in there, and they fortunately didn’t fall down with the droplets.

As he ran his final round, his heart jumped at seeing a crocodile’s face.

Upon closer inspection, it was just a frayed leaf with brown dots. Let the fight come sooner than later, he thought. I can’t take this much longer.

A different group of Euchambersia walked in the distance. He knew they were family, but when he asked about it he always heard: “we don’t talk about them”. And the longer the different sides of the family didn’t meet, the more they grew … different. Every child in his family seemed to be smaller, with duller teeth and weaker paws. Fonatos was an exception, with his thick muscular legs, which meant he carried the hope of all. Still he feared his family would soon be little fish once more.

But that other family branch? They only seemed to grow stronger. They received bright colors, while his were dull and almost camouflage. They—did that one miss his front paws!?

A thought. An idea he should’ve seen before. He ran to the other family in the distance, but was stopped at the edge of the territory by his own parents.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“Look! They are strong and big! They dare wear bright colors, because they don’t fear being seen! I think … I think they already found the Venomous Bite!”

“No. No no. They’re too cowardly and too stupid for that.”

As a child, it surprised him that his parents would talk about family with such derision. Later he learned pieces of what happened, about losing the Book of Meaning and refusing to fight crocodiles. So now he nodded and growled with them.

“Yes, yes, but maybe the gods …”

“You think?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Fonatos complained. “They keep moving closer to the Throne. They must already be friends with those stupid gods. The next time Ardex decides to suppress or exterminate animals, they are surely safe, because they’re best buddies!”

His parents shared a glance. They decision was made with a lot of effort, but without a word. “Son, you have our permission to leave the territory. Follow those traitors and discover if they already have the Venomous Bite back. Be back at the nest before dusk.”

This is what he’d trained for. He felt strong, big, powerful. He knew every danger on his path would not be a danger to him. Or, well, that’s what he told himself, for he expected never-ending dangers on his path.

He left his safe home and followed his other family along the river. They laughed and played—he hated it with such fire that he missed walking right into a trap.

His front paw was stuck in a thin wire.

Hij verliet de veilige plek en volgde zijn andere familie langs de rivier. Ze lachten en speelden—hij haatte het met zoveel vuur dat hij niet zag dat hij in een valstrik liep. He kept on limping for a while, a wooden stick hammering his back, until he simply couldn’t move anymore. His heart jumped again and he stopped breathing. Frustrated, he bit at the wire and broke it quickly.

Four light paws landed all around him.

He wanted to run away—then he heard the whispers.

“Have you ever seen a fish like that?”

“That’s no fish, man. Maybe it’s one of those new … new … birds.”

Fonatos turned around. “How could you think I am a bird?”

“How could you destroy our rod!?”

Two Gosti tried to glue the broken ends of their rod together with not much more than spit and hope. They were small ape-like creatures, colored like trees. They usually stuck themselves to branches with all four paws, which earned them the nickname of Ghost Creatures. One was long and gray-haired, the other shorter. “We worked on this for weeks!”

“Fortunately we have a second one.”

Fontatos didn’t undersand. This “rod” didn’t look natural. They had “worked for it”?

“Did you have to fight to win that rod off someone?”

The Gosti frowned, something only they could do just as well as the gods. “Win? We made this ourselves. With our feet and teeth. Man, be a little impressed.”

He was impressed. But during the conversation he could only hear mother’s voice in his head. Don’t trust strangers. Don’t go alone. Everyone wants to eat you.

These little creatures seemed afraid of nothing and joked about how he was stuck in their wire. They didn’t seem dangerous in the least. He was even tempted, somewhere deep inside, to protect them. They stood here, naked and vulnerable, and had no claws or sharp teeth.

“Are you not afraid of crocodiles?”

They whispered to each other. “Should we be scared of crocodiles?”

“What is a crocodile?”

The longer one looked back at him, questioningly. “What is a crocodile?”

Fonatos’ jaw almost sank to the floor. The family he was supposed to chase was almost out of sight. “You don’t know what crocodiles are? How have you not been eaten yet?”

The Gosti shrugged. “Never ran into them, apparently. The fortunes of living in a tree.”

“Can that rod catch crocodiles?” He was ashamed to ask it. If he defeated a crocodile with such tricks, would the prophecy come true? Wasn’t that cheating?

“Well, this one isn’t catching anything, thanks to your clumsy paws.”

“Show me how it works.”

The smaller Gosti took the piece of wire that was left. Thorns and sharp leaves were stuck to the end. He threw it in the water, waited a while, then pulled it back up.

The sharp end had skewered several small fishes. Without any effort, they’d caught almost a school of fishes.

Fishing was normal, dear reader, for it was easy. An animal on land could run away or bite back. An animal in the sea couldn’t see what came for them from above. And once they were pulled out of water, they could wiggle all they want—it was over. So few animals actually hunted on land, while most sauntered past the river and fished for their meals. But as quickly and easily as the Gosti did it …

A memory. His parents always told him they were almost extinct because animals had conspired to aggressively fish his ancestors from the sea. He looked the Gosti over once more. They seemed too stupid to survive—then they caught tens of fish with no effort! _It must be an act, that’s it! A trap! _

Screaming, he ran away, until remembering his training. He fell silent, scanned the environment, and walked on with a body full of stress and taut muscles. When he was sure nobody followed, he tried climbing a tree. Of course he couldn’t. But it was good training, so he decided to try every day from now on.

First crocodiles, now Gosti, danger was everywhere.

Which was confirmed when he rounded a large stone and animals were waiting for him.

His family had heard him and now blocked his path.

They looked … hopeful?

“Did you do it? Defeat a crocodile?”

“I …” Mother’s voice echoed. We don’t talk to them. You can’t trust them.

“Why else were you yelling? Why else would you—”

They weren’t angry, just disappointed. They also didn’t send him away. They continued their journey as if Fonatas had always been part of the group.

Those traitors weren’t so treacherous.

Four large Ghost Eyes popped up behind the stone. The longer one pointed a gray-haired hand. “Is that what you meant with a crocodile?”

A yellow-green creature slithered over the dirt like a snake and reached for the first legs he saw. Fonatos jumped in front of everyone, assuming fighting posture. Teeth sought his front paws. He jumped up, pushing off the stone, and landed on top of the crocodile with his full weight. He growled and almost folded, then waved his tail like a whip and smashed Fonatos to the floor.

The fight went silent for three heartbeats.

Fonatos rolled onto all fours and jabbed with his left claw. The crocodile turned his snout like a shield. It was a good shield, though now it carried three deep cuts. As Fonatos recoiled from the hit, the crocodile spread his front legs like pincers and clamped them around his attacker’s shoulders.

Nobody helped. Somewhere they still believed in the prophecy—ten against one would be cheating. But two animals did not know the prophecy.

Fonatos stared death in the eyes. Wide, yellow eyes with a narrow pupil, above a row of teeth that drew closer, and he couldn’t leaves, stuck in the crocodile’s grip, unable to break it with all his muscles and strength. He never wanted to feel that way again. All that fear, all that hate.

A rod came from above and hooked around a crocodile tooth. The creature was pulled back and lifted up. He thrashed until he broke free, while also breaking this second rod.

“I return when fight is fair,” he growled.

“Agreed,” Fonatos said instantly. The Venomous Bite only returned in a fair fight, right? That’s why they did this, right? “Because of prophecy.”

The crocodile grinned and flashed his teeth. “I have a prophecy for you. Connido meat will taste even better once we eat the last one.”

He slipped into the river. The group sighed.

Fonatos stared death in the eyes, but it did not come today.

Gonadisa knew exactly what her father was going to say, and she pushed a pile of leaves into her ears. If she had to hear this one more time, she’d simply die of fear. She could not sleep without nightmares about crocodiles. She couldn’t look at the clouds without fearing a bird attack. She estimated she had never been more than ten tree lengths away from her family in her entire life. Her one family, that was. The other branch hadn’t been seen in a while and if you asked mother—

“Those traitors are dead to us. They refused to fight crocodiles and now they’re stealing more and more children away from us. Only twenty of us are left!”

Sure, great, the next reminder about how they were almost extinct. Gonadisa pushed even more leaves into her ears. Her parents yelled some more angry words at her, but oh well, she didn’t hear. The world was nice and calm this way. She could relax somewhat, until she realized she couldn’t hear danger now.

The Gosti had made twenty rods for them, one per animal. They regularly visited to bring news or present their next invention. Last time, they glued a stone to a branch using vines and called it a “hammer”. To “build with”. When Gonadisa asked what they were going to build, they also didn’t know.

Their fishing provided more than enough food. Gonadisa didn’t understand why this obsession with crocodiles remained, though she’d be overjoyed if they went extinct. The place to have your fight—your “meeting” with a crocodile—was of course the river bank where they also fished.

Gonadisa didn’t say it out loud, but she planned to just run away when she saw one. The consequence was that she ran away all day, from trees, plants, other animals, and even gods, who could somehow look like a crocodile if the light was just right. In just about any light, if she was honest. Sometimes she looked into the water and yelped from her own reflection.

Her parents always suggested she’d be “friendlier” with the Gosti. She knew what they really wanted: information. The Gosti also visited the other branch of the family and so their daughter had to become a spy. She didn’t mind. Being a spy in your own territory felt both awesome and not dangerous at all.

“So, Ghosties, any news?”

“Mwah, we had a discussion with the gods.”

“Discussion … with … gods?”

Why were these animals not allowed to do? The gods seemed to prefer them. As if, in reward for something, the gods had given them bigger brains. Though she also heard the Gosti played a role in the demise of dinosaurs, which wasn’t something you rewarded, right?

“They want us to show them each invention first. They’re afraid we will make bad inventions, I think.”

“But you help everyone with your thingelings!”

The Gosti shook her head. Gonadisa always felt like they knew more and were smarter—and looked at her like she was a naïve baby. “It’s no punishment. It’s control, for in the future we might, I don’t know, make a super rod that extracts all fishes from the sea. Like … like what happened to your kind. They don’t want to repeat their mistake.”

The Gosti looked away pensively. “It’s actually quite an idea …”

“And you didn’t like that conversation?”

“Who ever loves control? Loves hearing all the things they’re not allowed to do?”

This entire family. Every conversation with her parents contained the next list of dangerous or crocodile-inducing activities, like they were a spell. If you said their name, they’d appear. If you looked too green, they’d approach you. If you laughed too hard or talked to loud, especially at night, they’d be behind you in an instant. Grandfather even claimed you drew a crocodile if you snored too loudly—as if she controlled that.

“So you can talk with the gods? And even tell them you disagree, without … them hurting you? Banishing you? Killing you? Or—”

The Gosti frowned again. “They are very kind creatures who think the best of us. As opposed to crocodiles!”

The Gosti shivered at the word and usually refrained from speaking it. As it should be.

She saw an opportunity. “Could you ask the gods something for me?”

The Gosti returned soon, just after dawn, with good news and bad news. Yes, the gods had responded. No, the answer wasn’t great.

“They think they know the place where your ancestors last had the Venomous Bite. The place where all animals suddenly pulled them from the sea. It’s not inside this territory.”

Gonadisa hadn’t told her parents anything. She knew what the response would be. A lecture, territory arrest, never speak to Gosti again, bla bla. “… how far away?”

“Along the river for a while. If we leave now, we might be back before dusk.” The Gosti looked serious. “Forgive me, but what do you hope to achieve with this?”

Gonadisa’s head hung low. Her voice cracked. “Something. Something different than what my days have been. I’m just scared, and angry, and uncertain, and tired of crocodiles.”

At the word with the big C all the Gosti shivered with her. “I understand.”

As her family checked the rods for fishes, she snuck away on the other side. She walked along the riverbank until the sun was at her peak and the Gosti suddenly pointed at the water.

“Let’s see. Purple trees, red flowers, large bend to the right, a snowy Maybemountain in the distance, the Ghost Den at our back—yes, this is the place.”

It seemed no different than any other part of the river. Gonadisa had to admit she wasn’t sure what this would accomplish. She carefully stepped into the water until it reached her belly. From close range, she noticed discoloration in te water. Trails of slightly different colors. The more she looked, the more she could differentiate them. They were mostly yellow-ish streams, mixed with some green or red. They were pulled along by the general flow of the water.

No other choice. She had to go underwater. The Gosti had taken a rod with them that held a block of wood at the end, as opposed to thorns. “If something is wrong, grab this, and we pull you up!”

Her species had left the water long ago. She wouldn’t last long now. So she took a long, deep breath and dove in.

The streams were more visible underwater, creating a sea that was all colors except blue. She picked a yellow-orange stream and followed it, past coral gardens, past schools of fish and plankton, over a few hills on the shallow seabed.

The stream met other streams. They all led back to the same place, a hill in the distance of which the top narrowly passed through the surface. To other animals, it would be a small island in the middle of the river. From below, you could see it was a pillar of mud, with a large opening through which Gonadisa swam.

The inside was decorated with plants shaped like glasses or buckets. Their leaves were stretched downwards and curled on the sides, as if two Gosti hands made a bowl. She knew them from the land, where they used the shape to catch rainwater. Underwater, it obviously didn’t rain.

So what could they catch here? How did grow in such a neat arrangement, stuck to the wall? These must have purposely been—

After a life of fear, Gonadisa reacted before she knew she did it. Her body whizzed out of the pillar, as if controlled by wires from above, precisely when a crocodile bit into the dirt from the other side. She looked for the rod above her; it had floated away.

She hadn’t practiced swimming a lot. She hated herself for it.

But if the streams all come from here, she thought. These plants would be catching … poison.

When the crocodile came for her, she didn’t flee, but duck underneath him. She swum the long way around the pillar and hoped the crocodile wanted to take the shortcut: straight through it.

And so the beast did. He burst through the pillar at speed and destroyed the entire chamber.

Clouds of poison exploded from the plants and quickly painted the sea a poisonous rainbow. Gonadisa felt it burn her skin. She was out of breath and shut her mouth tight against accidentally swallowing any poison. Blinded, surrounded by floundering fishes, she sought her way back.

Her tail tapped something hard. She grabbed it instantly. Relief. It was the rough wood of the rod. The Gosti pulled her out of the water, their eyes even larger than usual. They grew to an impossible size when they saw what appeared behind her: a dead crocodile.

In no time, the entire river changed into a poisonous stream. Fish after fish tried to escape from it. Gonadisa herself could barely stay upright, her body weakened and burned at many places.

I have, she thought, swallowed a bit too much of this water.

Honatanan would like to have children to give warnings to, but it was hard to find a wife when your species had only ten members left. Unlike the doves: they were everywhere, covering the landscape like a blanket of white feathers. Except the Poison Belt, of course. That poisoned place was deserted. They couldn’t fish there anymore—nobody could fish there.

Crocodile!? No, it was just a yellow-green tall plant.

They had tried collecting the poison from the river. His father thought he’d get the Venomous Bite if he drank it. His mother had spread the poison across her food in small doses and then eaten that. Well, they both lived, but he wouldn’t call them right in their mind.

Hadn’t Gonadisa defeated a crocodile? Why was the Venomous Bite not returning? Or did that not count, because it was on accident and not a fight? First they saw her as a heroine. Once they realized they were unable to use the poison for anything, and also lost their food source, the mood in his family quickly changed.

That happened regularly. About a hundred times a day. Crocodile? No, a sun ray in a weird place.

Heroine or not, Gonadisa had cleared up one thing. All the poison of her ancestors had been saved there. It must have been taken away. The animals who fished them out of water, or attacked them together, must have used them for their poison. They probably forced his ancestors to bite into those plants, until the poison flowed out and was collected. But why did they never use it? Why store this much poison to never use it?

Crocodile! No, his mother.

His species had shrunk even more, their colors dull and teeth barely sharp. Mother did not look like a predator anymore, with bananas in her ears and leaves under her paws like shoes. Father regularly muttered a made-up prayer and drew crosses in the air. That “kept the crocodiles away”. Well, it also kept all possible wives away.

They were no predators anymore. They had to fear crocodiles … and every other meat eater around.

The past few months, Honatanan increasingly considered a different solution: go and find that other side of the family. Would they still live? He thought so. He was never allowed to speak to them—not even allowed to speak about those “traitors”—but it was his only chance. Rather live with “monsters” than live on a desolate, poisoned terrain.

But what if I meet a crocodile? I might have to travel alone for weeks. Maybe I never find my family.

He looked at the Poison Belt. So much poison, so potent, and they couldn’t use any of it. It seemed to contain many different kinds, but the deaths had revealed they all did the same. They either damaged your nerves so you couldn’t move yourself anymore, or they made sure your wounds never healed and you bled to death.

Along this river, all life had disappeared this way.

Even the Gosti had moved to other places. And the gods were less happy with the creatures after this incident.

There was no future here. His decision had been made.

He said goodbye to his parents, who didn’t even notice. Mother had also placed leaves on her eyes to “scare off the crocodiles”.

He visited the Ghost Den, hoping to find some Gosti who knew where his family was.

Crocodile! No, a swarm of insects.

Evening had fallen when he reached the Den. “Hallo? Gosti?”

Nobody reacted. It seemed deserted, but they weren’t called Ghost Creatures for nothing. He took another step and looked up, at the foliage, searching for eyes. Leaves crackled under his feet—the only sound.

He found his pair of eyes. They blinked and came down. The Gosti had grown larger and as tall as he was. This creature seemed relieved and placed a four-fingered hand on his shoulder.

“Man, we thought you might have been a crocodile.”

“Don’t say that!” hissed another Gosti with gray fur. “I heard they come for you when you say crocodile!”

“Now you also said crocodile!”

“And you’re saying it again!”

“Gosti!” Honatanan said sternly, as if he was their father. “Do you know where my other family is?”

“Those who do not put bananas in their ears?”

“Yes.”

“They moved closer and closer tot he gods, near the Throne. We haven’t seen them in a while.” The Gosti leaned forward and whispered. “But that path is littered with crocodiles, I tell you!”

The gray Gosti yelled: “Now you say crocodile again!”

Crocodile! No, just a Gosti covered in leaves. He tried to calm himself, but he wasn’t sure if that was even possible anymore. He couldn’t remember a time when his belly wasn’t rumbling or his back shivering. If you say crocodile all day, he thought, then of course one will randomly show up some time just after you said it.

This had to end. He told himself to never think about the creatures again. To straighten his back, make himself big, and walk to his family without fear.

It was a good plan. But nobody stays calm when it’s pitch black and you’re not sure if a family is even waiting for you.

Run, he thought, just run. He followed the Green Path. A busy road kept safe by the gods. The Longneck, the river besides it, mixed more and more with the Poison Belt and thus became poisoned itself. Why weren’t the gods doing anything? Didn’t they want to stop this?

Crocodile!

Crocodile?

Crocodile!?

False alarms. All of them. Yet the alarm kept rining. And when that happened, you stopped noticing when the alarm was right for once.

A bright green blur exploded from the Longneck and landed on top of him. He immediately knew he was defeated. His body froze from the cold and the fear, while his attackers was much bigger and stronger. We’ll never get back our poison, he thought sadly, for not a single on of us will EVER defeat a crocodile. And they know, which is why they play along with the prophecy: easy meat.

When he hadn’t been eaten yet after a while, however, he realized more was at play.

Ionadanaris knew exactly what her remaining four family members were about to say, but they didn’t say it. In her surprise, she only heard them the second time.

“You’re the youngest and the strongest. You have to do it.”

Crocodile? “What must I do?”

“Break into the Throne of the gods and steal back our Book. When it was taken from us, oh so long ago, we couldn’t read it. Now we probably can.”

She did not like the sound of that. Her entire life she—Crocodile!—had heard that everything was forbidden and she had to stay glued to her mother at all times. And now they sent her away to break into the Throne of Tomorrow?

“And then?”

“Read the answer: how we get back our Venomous Bite.”

“By defeating a crocodile! You told me a thousand times!”

“Yes, and the book must contain all the weak points of crocodiles!”

All the weak points, yes. Like their teeth were too sharp—Crocodile!?—they sometimes hurt themselves. That they were too heavy and strong, accidentally stepping on insects and crushing them all the time. So many weak points.

But if mother told her, she had to listen. Mother, father, grandpa and her older sister watched her go as she started her journey to the Throne.

The Gosti had given her a new invention long ago: some kind of cloth you could wear and use to carry objects. Without having to carry it all in your mouth! With that, she could bring the book back in secret. She just hoped the cloth would also hide all the light her family claimed came from the book.

She didn’t walk—Crocodile!—quickly. Maybe she hoped to avoid her task if she dawdled long enough. To her frustration, though, nothing weird or suspicious happened during her travels. She arrived some time later without a scratch. If she had to choose between a crocodile attack and a crime against the gods, well, her heart felt a slight preference for the first option.

The gods had created entire volcanos. They had let species go extinct—Crocodile!?—or burned them for breaking laws. They allowed the Poison Belt, which had now become three Poison Belts, to exist. I am insane. My family is insane. This will not end well.

The area around the Throne was busy. Animals happily chatted with each other, which just made Ionadanaris more nervous. She almost rolled into a ball when she thought someone was getting close to her. Bunnies, Gosti, Equids, doves, snakes, they all mingled and wanted to ask or have something of the gods.

They had enacted a simple rule: in the Throne area, nobody was allowed to attack or eat another. Outside of that small space, they called it the Wilderness and the natural chain of food had all the power.

Night fell. The area slowly drained, but Bella and Eeris kept talking with some Gosti for a while.

Maybe she was lucky. Maybe all the other gods were gone and these two would stay outside all night. Even then—Crocodile?—she had to know where the book was. Where would she hide it? No, the gods didn’t hide. They could protect a book like that and put it in plain sight. The book was Bella’s, right? Did every god have their own room?

She snuck to the backside. A small door led to a path they called the Backdoor, which ended in the Midterrasea, but was otherwise dark and deserted. She discovered, again, that she was a hopeless species. She couldn’t climb, couldn’t climb, couldn’t fly, nothing! Her only way to break in … was to walk through the door as if she belonged.

She clenched her teeth around the door knob and pulled on it. The door wasn’t locked and opened silently. When her tail already closed the door behind her, steps sounded through the hall. Bella and Eeris had gone inside and walked through the large Throne Hall next to her.

“Darus searches and searches,” Bella said, “but he knows no medicine against all that poison in the river. They’re all different particles, and he has to carefully find the opposite particle to combat it.”

“Can Gulvi not drain the entire river?”

“An entire river—do you hear what you’re saying?”

“They can’t fish anyway! Most animals have already adapted and now hunt on land. And Ardex—”

“Ardex is only grumpy. Calls it a cowardly way to kill an enemy. We are still grumpy about the fact he secretly suppressed and killed meat eaters for centuries. Leave him out of this.”

Ionadanaris looked around her. Multiple tiny rooms were attached to this hall. She once heard Ardex created the Throne as the mirror image of the Heavenly Palace. Surely the gods had their own rooms.

But it weren’t these rooms.

They were used as storage or—as a prison. Curiosity brought her closer, not wisdom. A—Crocodile!—snake stuck to the side wall in one of the rooms. Once in a while, she tried to escape, but a magical wall closed the room like a prison cell.

“Psssst. Free me. Oh—it’s you.”

“You know me?”

“No, but I know your ssssspecies. I’m here thanks to you.”

“Huh?”

“My grandparentssss, of my grandparents, of my grandparents, well, it continues like that, made the Poison Cave. They pulled your ancestors from the water to steal their poison.”

She was tempted to attack him, magical wall or not. The snake rattled on, as if he’d wanted to say this for centuries.

“That’s why only the non-poisonoussss children were left alive. After a while, your entire species only contained the non-poisonous variant, so you lost your Venomousss Bite. The gods arrested me and locked me up indefinitely.”

“But you have nothing to do with this?”

“Sssay that to the gods, yes.”

Ionadanaris stepped back in a hurry. “Are … are you venomous?”

“No. I strangle my enemies. Making poison and never using it is a big waste of energy, so I also lost it somewhere. I don’t think there’s a single snake with poison.”

Poison is not something you get and keep forever, she repeated in her head. But if poison wasn’t taken from us in a single moment, how do we expect to get it back in a single moment?

She hoped, more than ever, that the Book held answers. Once the voices subsided, she turned to the Throne Hall. It was empty and faintly lit by Ardex’ braziers. She stayed in the shadows, sneaking, breath held, until she—Crocodile!—reached the other side.

Steps sounded above her now: Bella and Eeris had continued their conversation elsewhere. She hoped it wasn’t in Bella’s room.

She found a weird pile of rectangular stones, higher and higher, until they stopped precisely at the second floor. Such weird stones.

Of course it was just a normal staircase, dear reader, but she had never seen one. She had never been outside of her territory. She learned the meaning of vertigo after two steps. Sometimes I long back to simpler times when stairs could amaze an animal so, but I know time only moves forward. Always forward.

She wound the cloth around her head for disguise, though nobody would mistake her for a god. Uncertain, she hopped upstairs. She tested the new floor with her front paw before putting her full weight on it. Those thingelings from the Gosti are nothing compared to this, she thought.

Thumping sounded again, now from multiple sides. Bella and Eeris had a more intense conversation to her left, while someone seemed to trip over something on her right. She flattened herself, onto her bully, and shove forward. Her tail wiggled and she couldn’t stop it.

In the room to her right, somebody—Crocodile!?—climbed through the window. Not a real window, just a hole in the wall about four tree lengths high.

And that room contained a shiny Book, ruffling its own pages.

Ionadanaris raced to it, trying to beat the other burglar. Exactly at the same time, their paws landed on the pages, which instantly froze.

She looked up. Familiar eyes looked at her, in a body that vaguely looked like hers, but was much stronger, bigger and brighter. From the outside you might be able to ignore it, but she felt it clearly on the inside: this was her family.

“You also break in? On the same evening?” They had more in common than she thought!

“Break in? I’m no burglar! You are the criminal and I tried to stop you.”

She felt the eyes of an angry raccoon at her beck. In a reflex, she pulled the Book from the table and hid it deep in the folds of her cloth. Her family member refused to let go and now also hid his head in her cloth.

Two Gosti climbed through the window, hand in hand. That explained how the other one got in.

“Everything alright? Did we catch the—”

“Crocodile!” Ionadanaris yelled when she thought she saw one. It was just a drawing in the book.

“Crocodile!” she yelled again, when a few thick green leaves blew through the window.

The Gosti jumped in Bella’s nick, wild and panicked. “Where? Take it away! Magic them away, Bella! DO YOUR BEST SPELL.”

“CROCODILE!” Ionadanaris squeaked.

Bella’s furious face turned to pity. Eeris surpassed that by giving the two Euchambersia a gentle kiss on their forehead.

“But dears,” the giraffe said tentatively. “No crocodile has been seen here for centuries.”

Ionadanaris didn’t know what to say. Or think. Or do. Crocodiles were already—Crocodile!—gone for centuries?

“You lie,” she says. Also not smart to the face of a Goddess.

“Maybe one hangs around somewhere, lost,” Eeris said. “But all Crocoherds I know of have moved to other places, without poisoned rivers. I’m quite sure …”

Ionadanaris sunk through her knees. The Gosti forgot to stick to the walls and fell with her.

She mumbled: “… that I have never seen a real crocodile. I was never in danger.”

Why did she still see danger? Why—Crocodile! Stop it! Stop!

Her family member, a larger version of her who missed one front paw, nudged her and comforted her. She looked into his friendly face. “Let me guess. You knew this? Why did you leave?”

“We didn’t leave, we were sent away. My name is Donat, named after our great ancestor who translated the Book—”

“Not so fast,” Bella said. “Not true. Donat had copied the symbols from the book and given them to his little brother. A few weeks later, he visited the Throne with it. I found it suspicious, but translated for him.”

Donat nodded. “The text talked about the creation of the first Venomous Bite, with Cona. Each time a child was born, there was a slight chance of a mistake. A slight change in the DNA that determined how the animal grew. Cona had such a mistake—but it turned out to be a good mistake, for surity. Particles that were supposed to flow through her body, were suddenly made at her teeth.”

“So when she bit an animal …”

“That particle went along. Cona was even luckier, because she received a few more mistakes. The particle became worse and worse—until it was poisonous to others.”

Her head spun. The first Venomous Bite appeared randomly, through an accidental mistake. But she couldn’t wait—Crocodile!?—for that. Maybe it took a million years before another of her species received the mistake. Millions of years that—

“How long ago were you sent away?”

Donat smiled, as if she gave the right answer to a test question.

Bella responded: “Long ago enough that the mistake could have happened again.”

“Once we knew, thanks to the amazing translation from Bella, the prophecy stopped making sense. Defeating a crocodile would bring nothing. We had to survive, long enough, until the Venomous Bite returned on its own.”

“And? And? Is it back?”

Donat stopped smiling. “The gods said it would likely happen quickly, for surity, because we once had the Venomous Bite already. We could already do it, so we can probably still do it. We just have to turn it on. Connect the final piece. Change one little part of our DNA. Allow our body to make that good mistake.”

Crocodile!

“Stop it,” Ionadaris said out loud. “Stupid head. Stupid seeing crocodiles everywhere. Stupid being afraid of everything.”

Bella and Eeris looked at her like mothers. The Gosti scrambled back to their feet and flew, conversing enthusiastically, back through the window.

Bella crouched before her and held the book close. Her bedroom was very small, as if she’d been put there for punishment. The giant bookshelves and piles of scattered books also filled the space, and were probably more important to Bella than a soft bed. The walls were covered in spells and wise words; the only other decoration was a beautiful golden mirror.

“It took a while before I realized why the symbols felt familiar to me: the Euchambersia had to have my Book. The same night I took it back, Eonada just lost her father. In a panic, she almost jumped on my back and refused to leave us. That’s how this branch of your species became friends with us, the gods. And that’s how they slowly turned into their own species.”

A scream—CROCODILE—sounded outside. Powerful, but short, as if in surprise. Everyone briefly looked out the window, but saw nothing odd and didn’t move.

“Why did they steal our poison?” Ionadaris asked.

Bella frowned. “I assume you know about the Poison Belt? Which was created when someone discovered this secret storage of poison and made it explode?”

“Yes, but why steal and store that poison … without using it?”

The raccoon goddess opened the book and rapidly leaved through it. A second scream came from outside. Eeris grew nervous and stuck her long giraffe’s neck out of the window to look every which way.

It was impressive, how quickly Bella could read and search. Of course, it was a magical book, but she now assumed that all wisdom and knowledge of the universe was inside. And that was a lot.

Bella looked up and whispered her realization: “Because … we arrested the criminals and banned them before they could use the poison.”

Donat realized too. “All those animals pulled only the poisonous versions of us out of the water. They stole the poison and store it like … like … like a bomb to use for later. But later never came.”

Ionadaris grew frightened from the screaming outside. Crocodile!? She never wanted to leave this safe, cozy bedroom again. “Who would be the target of such a bomb? It would only work in the water.”

“Work very well,” Donat added.

Eeris and Bella shared a glance. Two heartbeats later they cursed, with the most powerful of curses, their own brother Ardex.

“Ardex! Come—here!” Bella screamed as if her dog had done something dirty. Ardex shuffled to them with a fitting expression, out of his own bedroom that was bright red and much bigger. Steam flew from his skin and he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes.

“You made that bomb, didn’t you?”

“What are you talking about? Can we do this tomorrow?”

Bella pulled on his tusks. When she was angry, she became taller than all—except Eeris—and wanted you to look up to her. “That poison bomb underwater. That gave us the Poison Belt now. You told the animals to steal that poison, didn’t you? Because you wanted to suppress and eliminate all the meat eaters underwater?”

“Bella. Sweet Bella. That is so, so long ago.”

“It’s true? You, the eldest god who must care for life, built a poison bomb to kill all water life in case things got out of hand?”

“Yes, I admit guilt, but I am the God of Death. And how could I have known that—”

The noise outside reached unacceptable levels. Especially for midnight, when most species still slept.

Ionadaris looked outside and immediately saw the danger now. A gigantic crocodile, like a shadow blacker than black, walked at the Throne. But you see crocodiles everywhere, she thought. They’re not here. It’s not real. You’ll prove it to yourself.

She stumbled down the stairs, followed at a distance by surprised gods, while Ardex said sorry once more to a furious Bella. She crossed the Throne Hall and rolled outside.

“You see,” she told herself, “there is nothing—”

A large crocodile’s tail painfully swept her off her paws.

The hit to Ionadanaris’ body wasn’t too bad, but the hit to her thoughts was horrible. She had suspected her parents made crocodiles out to be much larger than they truly were. This one was even larger than that, like a dinosaur crocodile. She didn’t know how. But she froze, inside and out, and waited between two dirt hills until it was over.

No crocodile bite came. The gods waved their arms and kept the beast barely under control. She was happy to be alive, but also heard mother’s voice. She always heard mother’s voice.

You must defeat the crocodile. No help. No cheating. Only then the Venomous Bite returns.

But—CROCODILE!

She barely dared look at it. If she didn’t make it, her side of the family was done for. And didn’t she just learn that crocodiles probably had nothing to do with their poison?

But a life of warnings and fear, dear reader, is not easily changed by simply thinking the right things.

She got up and walked to the crocodile. Her mind had already decided that she would defeat the crocodile, and she would bring back the Venomous Bite, and all the other pretty promises she’d heard all her life. If she didn’t do it, she’d feel a worthless loser for all her life.

“Stop your magic,” she yelled at the gods, who instantly dropped their paws. “I fight this creature … alone.”

“But—” Bella shut Eeris’ mouth. They also knew the myth. Maybe they were even involved, and Ardex had somehow placed a magical spell on all crocodiles to create this prophecy.

The crocodile’s head slowly turned, choppy, as if unable to find Ionadaris’ small frame. Crocodile! Crocodile! Crocodile!?

The body seemed blocky and clumsy in the faint moonlight, as if the crocodile was too large for its own skin. The teeth were huge, but not too sharp. The tail moved lazily. This crocodile was beatable. She wasn’t sure if all these things were true, but she told them to herself to gather courage.

Courage which she needed now.

The creature leapt at her. His snout only touched dirt hills. She jumped aside and rolled to his paw. She smashed it with all her power, and to her surprise, she broke a toe, which immediately stood askew. The green monster didn’t growl or roar in pain, but he did temporarily wobble on his damaged leg.

She rolled to his hind leg and did the same thing. This time she knew where to aim and managed to break two parts. The crocodile wobbled, but righted himself with his snout. She noticed too late that his tail started to circle her like a constrictor snake.

She bit left, right, up, down, with all her power. The tail left with deep wounds. Even this wasn’t enough to make the crocodile react, except by temporarily losing control over his tail. How many times do I need to hurt him to scare him!? she thought in a panic.

A formation of stone around the Throne area, created by Darus, formed a staircase in her eyes. She ran for it, dodging a sweeping tail. She jumped from one stone to the next, higher and higher, until she appeared above the crocodile’s head.

He looked up. She jumped on top of his head.

At the last moment, her enemy opened his massive jaws. She screeched. She fell in his teeth, hopelessly, with nothing to grab or to bring safety.

But his jaws shut too soon.

She landed on the tip of his nose, alive, and instantly bit at his eyes. She didn’t feel the hit anymore, but the eyes shut and the crocodile wobbled. I can do this. It doesn’t matter how often I must bite, I will do it.

He almost fell on his back, but turned around rapidly, flat on his belly and ready for the next attack. She floated through the air again and tried to get her feet below her. The fall was long, but she—

She was stuck in something. A thin wire, stretched between the trees near the river. A rod!

Her claws grabbed it and she thanked the wire a thousand times. She rocked back and forth, high above the ground, as the crocodile estimated if he was able to make this jump. They were no jumping creatures, they were sneaking creatures, close to the ground and the water.

She thought she was safe—she thought wrong.

The wire snapped under her weight. She pushed off a tree trunk and made a final swing, which threw her over the crocodile in a fast arc. He bit at her, but she was already gone. The speed wasn’t enough to escape, though, which made her scared and surprised. She must have flown ten tree lengths in a heartbeat, and still the crocodile was at her heels.

I can’t do this! This beast is too powerful!

She landed on the floor. Hard. Hard enough to stop feeling her legs. Flat on her belly, she tried to slither back to the fight, like—like a snake. The crocodile attacked again, but she’d already reached his other legs. She bit and bit, until those also gave out. Now he tried to raise his paws to stand on top of her, crushing her, but she slithered around his ankle and simply followed his steps.

She was stuck to his chest. The heart. Go for the heart! She expected to find a place that regularly bulged, with each heartbeat, but found nothing. Do crocodiles even have a heart!?

She gathered her last powers and blindly bashed, bit and scratched the crocodile’s chest. For the first time, the creature roared, though it was soft and with effort. He swayed as if somebody sat on his back who tried to send his stubborn pet the right way, but couldn’t. He was increasingly unstable; she just clung to him and let him stagger.

Until he closed his eyes and fell down.

Ionadanaris screamed and squealed. “I did it! I defeated a crocodile!”

She felt her body change immediately. Stronger, faster, more certain. She could do anything. She could look at the dark forest and not see the eyes of five monsters. She could think without being interrupted!

Freedom. Peace. The Venomous Bite back?

Her enemy shook the ground with his landing. And then he exploded into a thousand pieces.

That … isn’t right.

One of the pieces rolled to her. What should have been a living eye, was just a block of wood. She looked up and now clearly saw them in the moonlight: hundreds of wires from rods, criss-crossing in the empty space between trees. One end held a piece of the crocodile, the other end a smiling Gosti in a tree.

It was all an act. For her.

They had rapidly built a crocodile from their thingelings and brought it here. That’s why the gods stopped helping so easily. That’s why she won. She had defeated a wooden creature on wires!

And that changed nothing.

She still felt strong and unbeatable. She had looked a crocodile in the eyes, thinking they were real, and still found the courage to try, to move, to fight. She’d accepted mistakes could happen, and still lived on and tried her best as fearlessly as she could. She could overcome trauma.

This family accepted her. Her own family would also accept her. Maybe, just maybe, they could continue together.

And she really had changed.

An odd, sour taste shot over her tongue. She couldn’t stop it and dripped on the stones before her. Stones who, at the touch, crumbled slightly. Her family looked at her as if she were a goddess. They crowded around her and all wanted to touch her venomous teeth, which didn’t seem smart to her, but they seemed immune to the poison they created themselves.

But not all mistakes have good consequences.

She could no longer feel her legs. She would never feel them again. Just as her ability to create poison had turned on, her ability to create legs had turned off. This happened easily, because her ancestors had no legs and swum in the sea. A few tiny changes to her DNA, a few major changes to her life.

She suspected the gods did have something to do with the prophecy and making it come true one way or another. Bella just smiled at her and walked away—she couldn’t walk after her, never again.

Still, Donat rushed to her to ask Ionadanaris to bear his children. He saw a strong woman who could deliver strong children, and that’s all that mattered.

At the birth of their first child, both sides were present. At the birth of their second child, any talk about “two different branches” ceased. Eeris had to repeat that all crocodiles had left the area a hundred times, and even that wasn’t enough for some. The Gosti were able to easily overcome the ingrained fair, her own parents less so.

The warnings about crocodiles stopped. The commands, about everything you couldn’t do, stopped. At Ionadanaris’ advice, the snake from the prison in the Throne was released. He shouldn’t suffer because of the actions of his ancestors, especially when Ardex—arguably the Chiefgod of this world—told them to.

Fear and danger were never far away, of course. But their life wasn’t ruled by it anymore, nor the toxicity they spread through it.

Ionadanaris’ new features were so helpful to survival, that she bore many children and they all lived long enough to bear many children themselves. Soon, they massively outnumbered the non-venomous versions, beating them at everything. And so, equally soon, the order of Euchambersia was entirely filled with animals lacking paws but having the Venomous Bite.

They had become venomous snakes. A species that—like most venomous species—barely changed and didn’t go extinct until humans arrived.

They kept the bright colors from this side of the family, to warn everyone to keep their distance. Even a tiny snake could now defeat a huge crocodile. And when tiny animals could suddenly win from the biggest predators … the chain of food would be disrupted again.

Jasmine knew exactly what Thomas was going to say, so she said it first. “Let me guess. More teeth of the Connido?”

He nodded and carefully brushed the sand off the fossil. After each stroke, he moved his glasses again, while Jasmine rested in the cooling shade of a hastily constructed tent. “Take another picture, I guess.”

Reluctantly, she left the beige cloth, walking into scorching heat. She’d repeatedly asked if they could please do excavations that were not in the desert. Repeatedly she was told how they were the best and thus needed here.

She didn’t understand. They only found Connido teeth from the same time period, which they found everywhere. It was useful, sure. You could use them to attach the right dates to other fossils you found. That’s how they discovered when the Gosti first started hunting, and then became ape-like creatures, and then humans. That’s how they discovered that the stone dinosaur statues were probably made on that dreadful day the asteroid came.

But in this barren desert? There—

“What’s this?” Thomas whispered. He brushed ten times as quickly and let his glasses droop off his nose. It landed with a thud on a long spine, a flat spiral just below them. Jasmine crouched next to him and took pictures of each action.

“A snake’s head.”

“Undoubtably.”

“But … with legs?” He brushed away the last bits. This snake had legs. No tiny remainders of legs, but actual legs on which they must have walked.

Jasmine leaned forward and studied the head. With increasingly smaller brushes, they tried to see everything without moving or breaking anything. “Yes, there. A clear space for poison, and a clear pathway to bring it to the mouth. This was a venomous snake.”

The tiny fossil lay besides another. A much larger animal, maybe an elephant or camel. The fight between them proved fatal to both.

Thomas dug his bottom deep into the sand, his hands searching for his glasses. “This changes everything,” he said breathlessly. “Everyone is certain that snakes came from the sea and thus started with no legs. But this would suggest they had legs, and then …”

Jasmine studied the teeth. They seemed like Connido teeth, but were more advanced, and considerably less old. This could even change the time period, she thought. This is gold!

Thomas pulled their device from the tent. That was bad: you were supposed to excavate the fossil very carefully, store it, and then later, in a cool and dry place, do the analysis. But they couldn’t wait.

The device looked at the particles inside the fossil. Some particles changed into slightly different ones over time, automatically. They did this very consistently, following a formula. By checking how many particles had changed this way, they could calculate how old this fossil must be. The humans had developed far enough to create devices that did this within a few seconds.

They had expected to see the date of the Poison Belt. Their theory was that this toxic river had given the animals poison. That this event had caused most land animals to stop fishing. The belt still existed. It was far less poisonous, and humans now tried to cleanse it, but they never truly succeeded.

But everyone doubted such theories. Why could they not find proof? Proof of all those centuries between the Poison Belt and the sudden appearance of poison in many animals? Why was it a black hole? They didn’t even know what had caused the Poison Belt. More research was necessary—it was always necessary.

The date the device spit back was far, far later. And it aligned perfectly with the start of the Age of the Venomous Bite.

Jasmine hugged Thomas. “This must have been the first venomous snake! This is where it all started. This animal had the DNA that ended up in all the other animals who could be venomous too!”

Another mystery solved! And this time, our name is attached to it. She Thomas didn’t care. He seemed to enjoy being in the hot desert and digging for his little bones, just because of the work reward. Oh well, that’s why they made a great team.

He worked and discovered stuff.

She who accidentally broke a fossil when she was scared out of her mind.

“CROCODILE! CROCODILE! CROCODILE!”

Thomas looked around. He saw nothing. Except a clearer picture of what was next to the snake fossil. A few wooden blocks that, if you looked at them with some imagination, and narrowed your eyes, could be a recreation of a crocodile.

And a very odd book next to it. It shone brighter than the sun, even in the shade. It was completely undamaged, as it displayed a page with a drawing that did scare Thomas: a monster as large as an entire planet.

And so it was that life continued …