Bronia vs. Narcissus the Basilisk 2

Drawn with 0.7 Bic mechanical pencil, lined with S black Fabercastle PITT Artist pen, colored with Staedtler and Veritas pencil crayons.

   

My book, The Lonely Girl and the Lonely Warrior, is out on Kindle and paperback.

Kindle:
www.amazon.com/Lonely-Girl-War…

Paperback:
www.amazon.com/dp/1981003118?r…

   

Adult Bronia returns to face Narcissus, the narcissistic basilisk, once again.
Here's little Bronia fighting him in a scene from my book:


In Polish legend, the basilisk can turn its victims into stone by looking at them, and one defeats it using a mirror because, when the basilisk sees his reflection, he is himself petrified.

However, in The Lonely Girl and the Lonely Warrior, Narcissus, a hideous monster, is addicted to praise.  Bronia still defeats him with a mirror, however, it brings him joy: now he can always bask in his own beauty.

Information on the basilisk in legend:
Modernized version of the legend by Allegro (Polish with English subtitles):
www.youtube.com/watch?v=qS2xTG…

English:
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Basilisk

Polish:
pl.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bazylisz…

   

Here's a snippet of the scene from my book in which Bronia and her siblings face off against Narcissus:

In the meantime, the overjoyed basilisk began wagging his tail and flapping his wings in delight, after which, to emphasize his approval at such unadulterated praise, he stuck out his long, black, forked tongue and licked Bronia, coating her in green slime from head to toe.  Any other person would have vomited at the contact with the sticky black appendage and nauseating gelatinous substance, but Bronia, who had been born devoid of a gag reflex, merely thought of what the consequences would be if her stepmother caught her sneaking in, dripping basilisk spit all over the wooden floor and woolen rugs which had been part of the late Mrs. Angela Kowalski’s dowry.  In that moment she decided she would prefer to wash the mess off in the creek, risking an encounter with the overenthusiastic drowner, to facing her stepmother’s wrath.

“You may be an ugly little monstrosity, but you’re my favourite smelly, useless, disposable peasant!”  The basilisk declared.

Bronia bowed, the ends of her braids brushing the dirt.  She watched the ants and beetles burrowing in the ground among the moss.  “I am greatly honored, and I will cherish this moment until the end of my days.”  She held out the mirror.  “But you are the only one who deserves to behold your glory, the only one who deserves to delight and revel in your company.  Take this mirror as a token of my gratitude for having spent these unfathomable moments in your presence, oh handsomest Narcissus.”

The basilisk crowed again and took the mirror, praising himself in prose more purple than any of the compliments the Kowalski siblings had come up with.  The children took the cue to make a mad dash out of the clearing, the echoes of the monster complimenting his reflection resounding behind them.  Bronia, the strongest of the children, carried her brother on her back.  As long as the basilisk’s cries remained within hearing range, Little Johnny kept silent, but his tears flowed into her hair, mingling with the dirt.