Sworn On The Serpent

20260106

Written for Luna Asli Kolcu’s “Myths of Winter - Week 6” event.

Winter being the slowest season, it was also when the spirits presiding over nature had the most free time. This has been cause of many a song or legend, but for this story let us talk of oath witnessing.
Oaths were made before a local spirit, who then ensured the oath was adhered to - or that violating parties paid suitable recompense. Treaties, wedding vows, and all other matters of import were administered thus. During winter, however, when listless spirits naturally gathered near the still-active hearths of humankind, any promise was wont to be witnessed. And a spirit-witnessed promise couldn’t be dismissed.
So most people were mindful of their words in late winter. Most people avoided making promises which weren’t serous while spirits huddled close.
Gretel had never been typical. A whirlwind incarnate, indomitable and wild. At twenty-three she was already a famed warrior and hunter, the pride of her clan, admired by many and feared by monsters.
Winter was, to Gretel’s mind, no time to cower indoors! She laughed at cold and treacherous weather. Her beleaguered parents could rarely keep her home for even a week before restlessness set in and she loudly swore to bring down some threat or, if no monsters were left, she’d invent another, crazier oath.
And met it, every time, no matter how everyone shook their heads and murmured that she’d surely bit off too much.
She strode into the longhouse, cheeks rosy from exertion and the cold, snow dusting her mousy hair in sparkles, and gleefully roared “Our flag rests atop Howling Crag!”
Not that anyone doubted her, but the fact she no longer had a ghostly moose woven of smoke following her around proved it.
“Oh, well done, lass!” Her father beamed and embraced her tight. Equal parts proud and relieved, for Howling Crag claimed many climbers even in gentle months. He stepped back and coughed. “Ah, while you were gone, I did have… someone approach me, asking a favour. For me to deliver a message to you. Now, I want you to think about his request very carefully. Don’t feel you have to-”
Drunk on exhaustion and adrenaline, Gretel laughed and waved this aside. “I’m up for any challenge! Whatever he wants, I’ll do it! On my name and blood!!”
Her father cringed. Behind him, her mother groaned and buried her face in her hands. And a shadow darkened the door.
Gretel whipped around and found the sun blotted out by a giant serpent spirit, its head big as the longhouse table and its trunk thick like a mighty oak.
Never had she seen such a witness. Not in all her years of bold winter bragging. Her audacious oaths frequently called for wolves, or moose, or even bears, but never a spirit tall as the building, much less able to comfortably coil around it!
The serpent lowered its head until its chin rested on the path, leaving its eyes about level with Gretel’s, and sighed. “Well. This is not how I hoped we’d meet. But I could hardly let anyone else bear witness for you promising to marry me.”
Gretel was, for the first time since childhood, speechless. But only for a moment. “WHAT???”
Her father gave a choked cough. “He asked me for your hand. I said I would relay his request but the choice was yours alone. I did try to-”
“Y-you want to marry me? Me?” Gretel yanked at her warrior braids and glowered thunderously. “Do you mock me, spirit?”
The serpent blinked. Though he lacked expression, he managed to radiate confusion. “I, I beg your pardon, I meant no offence-”
“Ha! Then why try to make a fool of me??”
“I didn't.” The serpent sounded hurt. “I asked permission to court you. Is that not the done thing? Is it the fact I am a being of magic which causes you to speak so?”
“Well,” Gretel scoffed, propping her fits on her hips, “why else would you ask to marry me, if not mockery?”
Serpents cannot blush. But he did shyly turn his head away. “Because you are a magnificent mortal, overflowing with vitality and drive. And you have a beautiful soul. Warm, and kind, and generous… it humbles the aurora. And, ah, you didn’t seem liable to be intimidated by me. Or the thought of the spirit realm. So I thought it couldn’t hurt to ask.”
Gretel blinked rapidly. Dumbstruck.
“I had hoped we could get to know each other before… and I suppose we now must, for I cannot leave your side while the promise stands. But you didn’t say when you’d marry me, so… please don’t rush. I, I would much prefer my bride be comfortable with the idea.”
“Uh… I…” Gretel pinched her cheek, then shook herself. “Can you at least be… smaller?”
“Not while I am bearing witness. Promising to marry a spirit is a serious oath indeed. At least to spirits. And it’s our rules which define the witness’s appearance.”
“Ah.” Gretel looked back at the rest of her clan.
Most were staring aghast - though she darkly noted that a handful seemed amused. Her mother was halfway through a jug of mead, stone-faced. Her father was stabbing at the fire with a poker and furiously muttering to himself.
She turned back to the serpent and asked “As witness, can you not… write the promise off, so we can start over? Properly?”
“If only. The rules are binding.”
“And… what would be the forfeit?”
“Usually death. As I said, it’s a serious promise. But I think I could get away with just maiming you. If you’d rather lose both your legs…? I shall take no offence, I promise. This isn’t what I wanted to happen. And of course I understand that, ah, you’d likely rather not see me again after that.”
Gretel chewed her lip. She tapped a foot. She squared her shoulders. “I’ve never failed an oath, and I don’t intend to start! So… I hope the spirit realm’s ready for me!”

Prompt was “When you make a promise in winter, an animal appears to witness it. Sparrows for small promises. Wolves for the ones that matter. Bears for the oaths that will break you if you fail. One just appeared outside your door. It’s bigger than you expected.”