Legend: From Beasts To People

Long ago, when people wandered without aim through life and everyone sung the same tunes, it was common that upon the birth of twins, one child was left to die as a sacrifice to the Forest Gods. It was in this age that a woman named Kaarua gave birth to twins, a boy and a girl. The men of the tribe, wishing for a strong and fast hunter, took the baby girl from her and left it to die on the foot of Mount Ae'elayanaja. They named the boy Var; and because nobody listened to mothers' songs back then, nobody remembers what name Kaarua gave the girl.

The girl cried and cried and cried. At the end of the day she had almost taken her last breath, exhausted by the cold and her own screams - and then a voice answered her. It was a song, a song so soft and beautiful that she stopped crying and, with the last strength in her chest, laughed. And the laugh was so beautiful, so bright, that the singer's heart was filled with joy unlike she had ever felt.

The singer who found her and lifted her up in a warm embrace was Greatmother Maiella-e-yelaidanija'an herself, the highest of all of High Folk up on mountain Ae'elayanaja. She carried the child up to the mountains, named her Aijimaa-e-yelaidanija'an, and raised her as her own daughter. She was taught to sing the songs of her mother, to craft the finest jewelry from raw iron, to weave spells into braids and beads. She grew up to have a wit sharper than a dagger and a voice so beautiful it captured the whole mountain in a silent trance whenever she sang. her grace was unmatched by any other, even the other daughters of Greatmother Maiella.

While Aijimaa was learning culture that People could never dream of, Kaarua grew up to be the strongest of his tribe. No prey could flee him and no man could best him in a fight. They begun to revere him as their leader. But life in the low-lands was tough. They had no roof to keep them dry and no steel to defend themselves against the beasts of the night. And all tribes were in arms against each other, hunting down those who strayed too far from their groups, leaving their corpses as offerings to please the spirits of the forest.

With Kaarua's strength, his tribe soon grew the strongest. But the stronger they grew, the more they were; and the more they were, the less they had food and the slower they traveled. Winter after winter was brutal. Finally, after losing half of his children to cold and hunger, Kaarua made a decision no other man had dared to make: He left the lowlands to seek help from the Highest Lady of the Mountains, none other than Greatmother Maiella-e-yelaidanija'an.

His tribe wandered and wandered until they found, at the foot of the mountain Ae'elayanaja, a great road lined with pillars of carved stone. This road they followed until they found the even greater gates. Kaarua called to then High Folk and, with no trace of shame or fear in his voice, demanded to see their Highest Lady.

The High Folk were ready to tear the whole tribe apart and use them as bird bait for their insolence, but the Highest Lady was amused and called them to halt. As the doors opened and she appeared in front of the people in her pure white feather-cloak and jewelry that shone like the morning sun, all except Kaarua fell to their knees, thinking they had seen the Mountain Goddess herself.

"What have you come here for, you fearless beast?" asked the Greatmother.

"I have come for your help", Kaarua answered, head held high to meet her gaze.

"And what should I do this favor for, beast?"

"Are we not of the same water and the same stone? The gods crafted you for your songs to reach to the sky like the jagged peaks of a mountain; us they crafted to spread across the lowlands like a flooding river. Together we should shape this world. But while you sing in your stone halls, ever higher and higher, in the forests we are fading like a stream dried by the sun on a hot summer's day. We are only half of what we used to be, and still we remain the strongest. So I ask of you, Highest Lady: In the name of the gods that created us, as brothers and sisters, offer us your hand in help."

The Greatmother fell silent. It seemed like an eternity before she finally spoke.

"I hear your plea. Yet I will not offer you a hand, not in the name of our gods, nor in the name of my people. You say we are brothers and sisters, but you appear before me not unlike a wild beast, clad in nothing but furs and speaking with no respect. I cannot mold a beast into a higher being, so return to the forests that you--"

"My honored mother." The voice that cut her off rang clear like a bell. From behind the great doors, Aijimaa stepped out. A wave of soft gasps rolled over the people, who for the first time in their lives laid eyes upon a human as graceful and composed as the Greatmother's daughter.

"Aijimaa", the Greatmother cried. "this is not your place to intervene!"

Aijimaa kneeled and pressed her forehead to the cold stone below her before again rising to her feet. "Most gracious Greatmother. You say that there is nothing you can do to help these poor people rise above their beast-like nature, yet here I stand before you. Your very own daughter, if only by song and not flesh. So I beg of you, hear them out."

"I have raised you from before you could even sing", the Greatmother said. "I cannot do the same to these men and women."

"Then let me!" cried Aijimaa. "My beloved mother, you know that were I to stay with you in this city of stone and song, it would be the end of my lineage. My my frail hips and small womb could not bear the seed of High Men. But if I were to join this tribe, I could teach them the ways of smithwork and songcraft. I could bear a great many daughters, who could bear more daughters, who could bear more, and in this way I could change the life of these people forever. My songs would give them happiness and my guidance would give them purpose."

The Greatmother closed her eyes, for she felt a pain unlike any other in her life. Her most graceful, most beloved daughter - was she to give her to these beasts to wear out with their harsh life and worthless children?

When she spoke, her voice was trembling with concealed anger. "You have spoken well, my daughter. I cannot deny the truth in your words, nor can I deny you the right to bear the seed of these beasts if you so wish. But know this, people of the forest. If I am to give you my daughter, Aijimaa-e-yelaidanija'an, you will take her in as the Greatmother of your clan. You will hear her every word and follow her every command. You will wed her to your leader, who is to be her guardian until the day she draws her last breath. This is the only path that may save you from your beastly selves."

Before the Greatmother, Kaarua had finally been struck speechless by the mere presence of Aijimaa. Slowly he kneeled, and like he had seen Aijimaa do before, pressed his forehead onto the stones. "If you are to wed me, Graceful One, I will gladly leave my life in your hands."

The Greatmother gazed upon her daughter, who had pressed her hands on her chest in response.

"Aijimaa", she said. "I will send with you my finest leathers, my sharpest weapons, my most beautiful jewelry. But know this: You may no not take my songs with you. The moment you step off from the mountain road, you will no longer be my daughter."

Aijimaa gasped, and the Greatmother held her hand up.

"Do not mistake this for cruelty, my daughter. You are to be the very first Greatmother of your kind; and a single song-house can have no more than a single Greatmother. The moment you wed this man a new song-house will be born and the songs you'll sing to your children shall be of your own creation. So rejoice, rather than cry. You are the dawn."

Aijimaa embraced her mother. "Thank you", she whispered, and nothing more.

Aijimaa lead the tribe down the mountain path, back to the forests, and in the shadow of an ancient pine she wed Kaarua. She named her song-house Jia'an, which in the High Tongue means dawn. Under her rule the tribe prospered and grew. She made songs upon songs that she passed onto her daughters, of whom she had nine. And when time came, she sent each of the daughters away with the same guidance her own mother had given her: You are to become a Greatmother of your own, so leave and do not look back to me or my songs. From those eight daughters are descended the eight great song-houses of legend: Maarua, Lai'a, Saevi, Katta, Jia'me, Eianaya'a, Hijaami, Raane. The songs of Jia'an were passed on by her youngest daughter, Aijike Jia'an.

And this is how people were separated from beasts.