Story for the day: Hebhiitsu

Frewyn's take on the zodiac shift

Rautu doesn't care about your zodiac sign

Hebhiitsu

                There was a bustle in the square that had begun to spread its influence into the adjacent marketplace of Diras. The scandal of the day that roused interests of even the most subdued Frewyn women was such that a change in the routine of some was in order. A Galleisian astronomer of some consequence by the name of Mardotus who took his residence in the Church had claimed that the position of the constellations in relation to the sun had shifted. There was nothing to suggest such a momentous movement had occurred, the seasons were still as they always were, the winter was still frigid and long and therefore such news could hardly provoke any sentiment, but the matter that confounded and amazed the citizens of Frewyn was the appearance of a new collection of stars that had appeared in the sky. Those who would not believe in the myths and tales of the gods and their ascent into the heavens could not be bothered to think of this event as anything other than amusing, but those who did consider the legend of the gods showing themselves to their subjects in the night’s sky through a series of luminary patterns were struck with amazement.

                When asked which god had recently made his emergence Martodus replied that it was the god Senpendus, or the god Oghymm in Frewyn tradition, the god responsible for the arts of healing. When the Reverend Mother was applied to in order to make sense of the sudden appearance of Oghymm’s constellation, she said that such an appearance was a sign that this was a time of healing for Frewyn. The kingdom had suffered much in the past few years and the bold and sudden revelation had meant this was the beginning of a period of peace. There was much rejoicing at such fortuitous news and an unplanned celebration to honour the return of their god was given. Shoppes closed, song and dance ensued and everyone was disposed to join in the revelry of the day.

                The commander and Den Asaan were called to survey the festivities and when the giant asked the reason for such an unbidden celebration, his mate was obliged to answer with an arch grin knowing well the giant would not approve her response.

                “You know of our customs regarding Ailineighdaeth,” she began with a smirk.

                “I do, unfortunately,” Rautu grunted.

                “Well, now there is another god in the sky for which Frewyns can be born under. Oghymm was the god of healing and medicine.”

                “Perhaps that is the reason your people have so many illnesses.”

                “If he was hidden until now, perhaps so,” the commander laughed. “Because of his appearance, now the constellations in regard to birth attributes have all been shifted. I am no longer born under the sign of the horse god.”

                “What is the traditional representation of this god of healing?” Rautu said, scowling as he searched for signs of what could portray the aspect of remedy.              

                The commander raised her hand to her mouth and attempted to hide her snickers. “The symbol is a serpent.”

                “How does that relate to healing?”

                “When Oghymm was young, he wandered into the forest and became lost. He befriended Prindenous, the horse god, and was raised as his son. Oghymm grew to be quite a large gentleman and one day, while trolling about in the forest for herbs, he found a large serpent of sorts ill and in need of care. He used what knowledge he learned from Prindenous in the ways of healing and nursed the serpent until it was well again. The creature was grateful and offered to be Oghymm’s companion. He became the god of healing, nurturing everything that fell into his path, and his constellation is represented by a giant holding the head of a snake in one hand and the tail in the other. Everyone knows how ridiculous this is but some grow quite attached to their birth signs. They believe in the predictions made for them throughout the year and identify with the attributes of their patron god.” The commander paused and half-smiled to herself. “Somehow, Iimon Ghaala, the notion of my birth constellation being a giant with a large serpent between his legs is quite fitting.”      

                Where the giant would have interposed with his usual commentary on the absurdity in believing that one’s attributes were determined by something as far as grouping of stars in the sky, he was silent. He remained in his pensive and brooding state for some time, causing the commander to ask if he was well. He claimed he was in a half-hearted tone and explained his forethought.

                “We do not believe in your invisible gods,” he began with a scoff. “However, there is a legend among my people of a Haanta called Hebhiitsu. He was the first of our people to be freed by Jhiadhi after he liberated himself from his false gods. Hebhiitsu helped Jhiadhi free the rest of our people and began the first Haanta settlement. Every Amghari knows the history of Hebhiitsu because he is considered our first warrior. He was the first to learn how to control and channel his ethnaa. He told Ghaan Khosselin of his method, which was then told to us when he came to the islands. It is believed that he was the first Haanta to have the Endari Sotaa and his companion was a large serpent he as well saved from death. His designation means He who is without Time and Jhiadhi gave him this name because he is able to see events before they happen.”

                “So he’s an oracle of some sort?”

                “He is not one of your false prophets, woman,” Rautu contented. “He has trained his ethnaa to be silent, so much so that he is able to see through illusions created by magic and separate his Salhiika from his Khopra to travel great distances.”

                “That’s a useful ability to have. Do you take the appearance of such a constellation to mean that perhaps he is still watching over your blessed people from afar?”

                The giant lowered his eyes. “Perhaps,” he said in a rumbling hum.