Faolan and Hercunna's House

Faolan and Hercunna is an episode from the lengthy collection of stories known as the Faolmagriadlae, Reachman myths primarily centered on Faolan Red-Eagle, the at least semi-mythical king of the Reach from the mid First Era. He is a figure of great reverence to the Reachmen, though outsider cultures have taken the same view they apply to all Reach-culture; i.e., that it is barbaric and to be feared. I have translated this episode in the hope to further scholarship in this vanishing culture. -Caoran Fiascian, U. Gwylim

And it was then that Preducha War-Leader said to Faolan, "You must go from this place. A sword can be tempered in fire, quenched in water, and polished in oil, but the truest test is to quench it in blood. You have learned what is to be learned from sparring with your sword-mates; go see my brother Hercunna."

"Where does your brother live, War-Leader?", Faolan asked. "Bha!", spat Preducha, "Better you should ask if a bear leaves its doings in the forest. If you cannot even find his house how can you think to learn his lessons?"

And so Faolan left the House of the Gods of War, low in heart, and set to make camp in the forest. So low was his heart and blinded by rage at the difficulty of his task, the young Red-Eagle very nearly found out precisely where the bear leaves his doings. With a mighty kick, he sent a rock flying into the dark woods, crashing through the bracken. Such was his haste that he barely noticed when the boulder he camped behind began to rise. He turned, and saw a great bear standing before him, which said,

"Has that helped you find Hercunna's house? It seems to me all you have now is a sore foot." Faolan bowed low and deferred to him, for even rage-blinded he was not stupid. "No, Lord-Bee-Hunter, but my task is heavy, and leaves me frustrated." "I am Hrokkibeg, Reach-child, and I say this; you must control your inner-fire, for the flame which burns quickly soon burns out. Keep it within your hearth and feed it constantly, and it will be there when it is time to unleash it upon your foes. Now go, I am done with speaking." And so the bear turned and went back to sleep.

"You are looking for Hercunna's house?", yapped a voice behind Faolan. He turned, and saw a red fox sitting on his pack. "Do you know the way?" the warrior asked. "Of course," yawned the fox, "What do I not know? Follow me!" And he darted off into the forest. Chasing after, Faolan broke through underbrush, crashed through thickets, and nearly lost his boots in the sucking mud. Deeper and deeper in he went- and stopped. He was lost, and the fox's trail was long gone. Remembering the lesson of Hrokkibeg, he held and listened; the distant rush of Mhor Cianarth echoed in the east, the moss on the winding junipers was facing him. The son of the Reach would not a fool be today! He turned left, and made to find a trail.

"Very good, red-one," echoed the voice of the fox. "I am Gullibeg, and I say this; I am he who confounds the hunters, leading them from the paths they know to the paths known only to me. Through clever-thinking and wise-tracking, one lone hunter may take down far greater prey than he, and may so avoid becoming prey himself. Take my knowledge, and find my brothers; they will show you the rest of the way."

The trail now clear, Faolan left a thankful libation, of fat-soaked bread and sweet-honey wine. His stomach grumbled, and the Reach-warrior unhooked his bow. Crouching down, he saw through the thicket a great white stag bending down to drink. Quietly, he moved to draw, loosed his arrow- the stag tensed, and dashed off into the woods! "Bha-ha, not like that, you won't!", it bellowed as it ran. Swearing, Faolan rose, and stopped. Remembering, he breathed, and looked about him.

Following along the crags and rocks he edged up a cliff face and saw the path left by the running stag. Moving quickly, but taking great pains to silence his movements, he edged upwind from where the beast had come to pause again. With a decisive leap, he was upon it, and with his great bone knife, slew the stag and brought it down.

"Well done, eagle-faced-one." echoed the voice of the stag, "I am Uricanbeg, and I say this; the hunter must be swift, but not at the expense of care; it is the balance of swiftness, carefulness, and decisive action that the prey may be caught. Take care though, Reach-son, for he who thinks himself hunter must always watch, before he becomes hunted."

Faolan did not turn when he heard the slight movement of air, but rolled, and so the great iron-black claw of the skin-shifter missed his head. Daring not to stop and look, it was the warrior's turn to run through the underbrush. Up and down the crags he swung, at times feeling the creature's breath on his neck, doubling back and forth across the many streams on their way to the mother-river. When at last he was sure he had won some time, he stopped, and lit a fire.

The were-beast, following the scent of the warrior, came upon a muddy brook, and saw on the other bank, a camp of all things. There was the fire-ring, and there the cookpot, and there the bed roll, warm and with the smell of its' foolish prey. As it raised its iron claws to deal the killing blow, the mud stirred, and Faolan rose, knife in each hand, and jumped on its back, slicing the throat and tearing clean off the pelt. A voice echoed around the fallen man-beast,

"Slain by a mudcrab, bha! I am Storihbeg and I say this; just as easily as hunter becomes hunted, so by right action may the prey become predator. Well done, blood-bearded-one." Taking the werewolf's hide, Faolan dusted himself off, and left the stag's horns and the beast's eyes as libation. Dousing the fire, he saw in the distance a longhouse, guarded by a spearman.

"Approach, Reach-child," the spearman cried, "What do you seek in my forest?" "I seek the house of Hercunna, to learn better the ways of battle." said Faolan. The spearman, great and tall with antlered helmet, grimaced and asked, "What have you learned there thus far?" "Thus far?", spoke Faolan, confused, "My lessons have not begun! I cannot even find the gate!"

"Bha, have you not learned when it is right to control your fury, and when to release it? Have you not learned the benefits of clever-thinking and better-knowledge? Have you not learned the balance of swiftness, carefulness, and decisive action in determining who is hunter, and who is prey? I am Alrabeg, and I say this; the hunter who looks always to the horizon and ignores his surroundings cannot help but be consumed.

I am Hercunna, and these my aspects, and I say this; where there is hunter and hunted, predator and prey, I am there, and make my house. Take what you have learned in my forest, and you, great Reach-warrior, may become right and true and death-to-your-foes. Begone from these woods and return to the world of men, for your blood is the Reach, and her foes move swiftly, but remember, there too I make my house, and my lessons will serve you if you have but the will to heed them."

And so Faolan returned to the hills of the Reach.