Mithraditism

The healer brought out a tiny glass vial. Inside was a single drop of scorpion venom, diluted in goat’s milk. “Drink this each morning,” she said. “At first, you will feel ill. But over many moons, your body will learn to turn the venom into nothing more than a bitter spice.”

Years passed. Kael grew strong and feared no cup of wine, no offered bread. One night, a rival lord finally slipped a lethal dose of scorpion venom into Kael’s goblet. Kael drank it dry, smiled, and asked for more. mithraditism

One evening, an assassin’s dagger, laced with scorpion venom, barely missed Kael’s heart. The healer who saved him whispered, “You cannot avoid every threat. But you can outgrow them.” The healer brought out a tiny glass vial