They should tremble, the snake said, and Chaeli did the same.
I would not bear children, the snake said, not as Chaeli had...
Vengeance, the snake said, and Chaeli saw clearly for the first time in her death.
“What?” She asked, even though she had heard every word. Her fingers dropped from their fists as thoughts of realization crossed her face, her staring eyes. For thirty years, she had been afraid, abandoned, hiding. For thirty years, she had known she could hurt them, and never thought she would. Hers were a happy people, but as a girl she had not been without her own little disputes and petty retaliations. Here was a bigger reason, a true purpose, and what had she done with it? What had she done, in thirty years?
“They killed me,” Chaeli explained absently, unable to keep her mind on any one thing. “With their child. It was not her fault—she was only a newborn—but he...” Shivering, Chaeli clutched her heart, even though she was not cold. She could not feel the cold, but they could. She could not feel pain, not anymore, only in her memories. But they could.
Chaeli was not dead. In fact, she was more powerful than she had been in life. If she was dead, then death was better than living.
“Y- yes,” she finally replied. Her eyes had been darting around, unable to take hold of the glowing water, the glistening rocks, the terrible white scales. But then they found that smile. It was malice; it was retribution. She wanted it. She should have been frightened, but her wheeling mind only saw hope. “But I do not know... What could you... What could I...” She huffed. “H- how?”