The only answer to Ren's desperate call was the gentle lapping of water against the riverbank. The air grew still, and the world seemed to hold its breath. Ren's eyes darted across the surface of the river, which was now catching the first glimmers of moonlight. He was about to turn away, convinced his mind was playing tricks on him, when the water directly in front of him began to stir.
It wasn't the natural movement of the current. A soft, pale blue light emanated from beneath the surface, swirling like milk stirred into tea. The light grew brighter, and the water began to bubble and rise, not in a violent surge, but in a graceful, controlled column. Within the shimmering pillar of water, a form took shape—a great serpent made not of flesh and scales, but of pure, flowing river water and captured moonlight. Its eyes were two points of brilliant silver light that seemed to pierce right through Ren, looking into his very soul.
Ren stumbled back, his breath catching in his throat. He instinctively reached for Shiro's basket, a futile gesture of protection.
The voice echoed again, not from the air, but directly in his mind—calm, ancient, and powerful. It was the same voice, but now it resonated with the power of the river itself. "There is no need for fear, Child of the Serpent's Mark."
Ren stared, speechless. The great water serpent lowered its head slightly, its silver eyes fixed on him.
"You ask what the mark on your hand means," the voice continued, its tone patient. "It is a sign of a covenant made long ago. A bond between your lineage and the spirits of this land. A promise of power, waiting to be claimed."
"My lineage?" Ren stammered, his voice barely a whisper. "I'm... I'm a farmer. My parents were farmers."
"Your blood runs deeper than the soil you till. It flows with the same magic as this river," the spirit explained. "The Festival of Awakening is a summons. It is a time when those who bear the mark are tested. A time when potential is either forged into strength or fades into nothing."
Ren glanced down at Shiro, still sleeping soundly, oblivious to the magnificent being before them. "But... what about him? He's so weak. How can I face a test?"
The water serpent's form shimmered. "The creature is not weak; it is merely dormant. Its power is a mirror of your own. As long as you see yourself as nothing more than a simple farmer, your beast will be nothing more than a simple snake. Your doubt is its cage."
The revelation struck Ren with the force of a physical blow. His frustration, his disappointment—it wasn't Shiro's fault. It was his.
"The time is short," the spirit said, its form beginning to lose cohesion as the light within it pulsed. "Prepare yourself. Do not fear what you are. Accept the mark. Accept the bond. When the moon is full on the night of the festival, your journey will truly begin. Now go. The river has shared its secret."
With those final words, the column of water collapsed back into the river with a soft splash. The pale blue light faded, and the great serpent was gone. The river was just a river once more, its surface dark and placid under the night sky.
Ren stood frozen for a long moment, his heart hammering against his ribs. He looked at the red mark on his hand, no longer with confusion, but with a dawning sense of awe and terror. Then, he looked at Shiro. He gently lifted the small snake from its basket. It stirred, flicking its tongue out to taste the air before coiling around his wrist, its tiny body a familiar weight.
"It's not your fault," Ren whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "It's mine. But that's going to change."
He turned away from the river and headed home, the whispers of the wind now replaced by the roar of destiny in his ears. He didn't know what this "Festival of Awakening" would demand of him, but for the first time in his life, Ren felt like he wasn't just a farmer. He was something more. And so was the small snake wrapped around his wrist.