"Be kind to your wife and children, not for their sake, but so that God will be kind to you," were the parting words of his father.

The villagers had always seen Oran as the ideal parent. Oran was ideal without realizing that he did it because his father 'told him' to do so. In fact, if Oran was ordered to be crueler to his wife, he would have done it without a second thought.

Yet, despite this characteristic, Oran was sharp. He climbed through the ranks to secure a leadership position in his village, Medres. Then, he married the gentlest female from one of the wealthiest families in his village. In time, Oran formed a perfect triangular paradigm composed of his wife, daughter, and him. The Oran family was perfect.

But an insect had invaded his paradigm. The story of its intrusion goes back to its mother, Arbara, and Oran's spouse, Itara. The two ladies were lifelong friends despite the mountainous difference in status.

They met for the first time at their village's school and, even after all these years, not a week had passed by without them meeting at least once. Oran ended up suggesting that Arbara should come over whenever she wished, as she had infused that kind nature in his wife, Itara.

"I cannot imagine my world without Arbara. But I can imagine it without you, Oran." Such were some of the sore statements Itara used to utter to her husband if Arbara did not come over for a few days. As a matter of fact, Oran began to worry about what would happen to his wife if Arbara died. Usually, such worries drowned when immersed in time. But in Oran's case, it resurfaced and then exploded when it turned into reality... Arbara passed away.

It had been a year since Arbara’s death from summer fever. But, it was crystal clear to Oran that his partner had transformed. Itara had become thin, her neck becoming more and more ghastly. Her tongue became sharper, bleeding him whenever she desired. Even her breath had an acute venomous smell. In every moment with her, he breathed odors of insults.

As a result, in two months’ time, the villagers abandoned her. But she, instead, preferred sitting in seclusion, staring at a large window for hours.

My wife is turning into a serpent. My paradigm is cracking apart, Oran thought.

Oran tried his best, following everything the villagers advised him to do. He consulted over twenty doctors, bought flowers, pets, and dresses, and invited every friend and relative she liked. Yet, Arbara's magic eclipsed everything he tried.

"I am too exhausted—she can no longer be saved," said Oran to his only daughter, Erya.

Erya was immune to Arbara's magic and was the only female in town with red hair. Her parents were black-haired, so the doctor deduced that she had gotten the red hair from distant grandparents.

"Father, how about we go back to the root of the problem?" said Erya. "If her attachment to Arbara was the cause, then her closest relative, someone of her own blood, might be able to heal her. Remember when I was young, Arbara used to bring her son, Raivy, to our home so I would play with him? Perhaps he can treat Mother."

With teary eyes, Oran looked at his child, reflecting on her idea. "Perhaps...” he replied, and then stared back at the floor of their living room. Oran had become hopeless after a myriad of unsuccessful attempts over the past year. Erya could not bear to see her gentle father broken and in this state.

No, not you also, Father, Erya thought, as she pressed her lips together.

She hugged him, then said in her sweetest, most convincing tone, "Father, how about you rest for a week? The weather has been cold and refreshing lately. Forget about improving Mother's condition for a while; I will take full care of it."

Erya had let her father take lead in this matter out of consideration for him. But if things proceed in the same manner as they have played out over the prior year, I might lose him as well, she thought… Erya had to hurry.

✽✽✽

"Just where in the world is your son Raivy?” asked Erya abruptly. The two surprised receivers of this query were Raivy’s father, Javen, and his new partner, Velica. Javen was a man of gravity and order, and a handshake was enough to tell that he’d had a rough life. Now in his fifties, Javen had resided in the village of Madarma since the age of thirty-three. Ever since then, Javen had never accepted any influential position in the village, always responding, “I’ve had enough.”

Velica, on the other hand, was a creature of emotions and jealousy, but she was also kind. Though she was in her forties, Velica had loved Javen before he had married his first wife, Arbara. In fact, the day Javen married Arbara, Velica’s house was covered in invisible smoke and fire. The eyes of jealousy she laid on Arbara were those of pure death. But after Arbara passed away, the moment Javen proposed to Velica, the cracking fire in her had turned to soothing ice. Setting the past aside, Javen and Velica glared at Erya’s unusual demand as they stood in the village market of Madarma.

"So, how about you tell your tale first?" asked Javen after he and his wife had brought Erya to their worn-out yet cozy home. Erya did not accept anything except water.

Erya told them all about her parents' distress. Javen, unlike Velica, knew Itara well from the stories Arbara had narrated to him over the past several years. His philosophy was to aid only when asked. So, he did not extend a helping hand despite being aware of Itara's condition.

"I see. I am sorry I could not recognize your face. It has been years since your mother had last brought you over to our household," said Javen.

"Please do not worry about it,” said Erya. “I only came to take Raivy over to my mother, not to trouble you two. I have been looking for Raivy for three days, but none of the villagers know where he is."

"Raivy is not in the village," said Javen.

"And why is that?" asked Erya.

The couple looked at each other for few moments. Then, Velica responded, "Raivy has been living in the forest for the past six months. He did not mention the reason, but he claimed he wished to be alone for a while, which has become quite a lengthy stay. Raivy forbade us from disclosing his present whereabouts to any soul. So, we told whoever asked us that he traveled to trade in the capital… I have informed you all of this because your situation deserves that much, and I assume that you can keep a secret."

"Raivy comes over to our house few times a month. So, rest assured that I will kill him if he declines your request," said Javen, concluding his sentence with a habitual smile that had touched the hearts of many ladies in the past. However, it no longer had the same effect, save on those around his gray-haired age.

Erya's face brightened for the first time during their conversation. She thanked them and took off with a charming grin.

"She is a perfect match for Raivy, is she not?" said Velica.

"I cannot think of a better one," replied Javen. "She traveled all by herself to another village for her parents and almost begged us in the middle of the market without giving herself a second thought. That is proof of a fine lady... I only hope that Raivy's wife will be his last, unlike my first flower.”

Though she was Javen's second wife after Arbara, Velica treated Raivy like her own child. Because of this, she had been furious when Raivy had decided to live alone in the forest. He preferred leaves and trees over their house. Javen had approved, however, as he viewed it as a means of acquiring self-discipline. But Velica did not care—she wanted Raivy to be with his parents. She wanted to be a proper mother to him, as she had not been blessed to have any children of her own. But she felt that Raivy ignored her, while Javen had never given her that chance.

Velica twisted Javen's ears like a doorknob and said, "That's why I told you not to let him leave this house."