Fall of the Lagomorphs

[Pyro]

There was a time…In which we were Great.

[/size] In ages past Michabor the first buck and his Lagomorphs were the masters of all. No one dared to kill them, for fear of their great magics and powerful fighting skills. The cunning fox could not think of no trick that Michabor was not able to counter with one of his own. Though the owl was silent, she was never so silent that the hares could not hear her. Even the masters of underground, weasels, only got lost in the warrens of rabbits. No one could run swifter, hear farther, populate faster, than they. No one was the Lagomorphs’ equal and so they became arrogant. They began to believe that they did not needs the gods…that they were gods themselves and that all should worship them. Their gods became angered at this. They were the ones who had created the Lagomorphs. They were the ones who had given them their greatness. Their creations needed to be taught a lesson.

And so the gods took the bark of the tallest tree and the water of the swiftest river and put it in a cauldron. Additionally, each god and goddess put a part of themselves into the pot. The contents churned and bubbled for a day and a night before a clawed hand rose from the water. An arm rose with it, and soon a shape taller than all of them of stood beside the cauldron, head bowed.

“What is your name, little brother?” asked Kalulu, the trickster god, in good humor.

“It is Hittavainen.”

“Please, Hittavainen, show us your face.” This was said by Ostara, goddess of the sun, and even as she asked this her light began to spread to illuminate Hittavainen’s shadowed face.

The new god lifted his head and all gathered, gods though they were, gasped in horror. Their new brother’s face was unlike anything they had ever seen. In her shock Ostara blazed, allowing the rest of Hittavainen’s form to be seen. It was hideous to them. His front paws were oddly shaped, their five toes long and straight. His back paws were slightly better, for they were as long as those of rabbits, although they were also wider and possessed that same strange amount of toes. His body was void of all fur except for he top of his head, which possessed small round-ish ears. But his face…his face was the worst of all. It was flat as an owl’s with raindrop shaped eyes and weird fleshy lips. Almost all the gods turned away to hide their revulsion. All except for Wepuat, goddess of love and fertility. She saw that Hittavainen shivered and she went to him, wrapping him up in her warmth.

“Brothers, sisters!” she cried, her voice dripping with disgust. “How can you turn away from him so, when clearly he bares one of the greatest gifts of all: uniqueness. Can you not see that it is because of this that he may still help us? Although, I do not know why he would, after you have treated him such.” Kalulu reluctantly agreed.

“Y-yes…It is shameful what we have done. And forgiveness must be asked for above all else.”

Hittavainen looked at them each in turn. None save for Wepuat’s were accepting of him. Some blazed hatred, others disgust. How could he forgive them when they would not accept them for who he was?

“I cannot forgive you brothers and sisters. But I will serve my purpose.” He pushed Wepuat away and ran into the unearthly forest, dodging the curses and misgivings of other animal gods as he went. It was not long before he reached the seeing pool, from which all gods might see the world below. Wepuat was right when she spoke of his uniqueness, for there was no one who was like him.

So deep was he in his thoughts that he did not hear Arcas, the god of protection, until it was too late. The air whooshed out of him as the large grizzly bear charged into him, pinning the newly created god to the ground. The attack was not aggressive, so much as a way to keep Hittavainen from running away.

“Who are you, strange one? You have my size when you stand…and you are able to maintain it indefinitely, where I must pause to rest on my fours.”

Hittavainen sensed no ill will from Arcas and so he answered his question. “I am Hittavainen, and I am the newly created brother of the Lagomorph gods.”

Arcas nodded. “So you are the product of their tricks. We others had wondered what they have been up to. I m to assume they created you to teach their own a lesson?”

Hittavainen nodded.

“Well you cannot go in blind. Know you how to kill?” Hittavainen’s glanced to the side.

“I do not, but I will learn.” The great bear laughed so loud the surrounding tress trembled.

“And so you will, but not by yourself. Come, I will show you to the others, and we will make a predator out of you, for all you have the blunt teeth of a hare.”

Arcas took Hittavainen back into the forest. They seemed to walk forever until they finally reached a clearing. Arcas instructed Hittavainen to wait while he sought out other gods. Within a few minutes he came back with three: Reynard, one of the fox gods and lord of all tricksters, Fenrir, one of the many wolf gods and the overseer of death, and Manguni, owl god of the night. Reynard tried to teach Hittavainen how to catch a hare, but he was not near fast enough. Fenrir tried to teach Hittavainen how to kill a rabbit, but he lacked sharp teeth and claws. Manguni tried to teach Hittavainen how to be silent when stalking, but his footfalls were heavy like a bear’s.

Arcas sighed. “Clearly we will not be able to teach you our ways. But we will help you find your way, by giving you that which you lack.”

Arcas begged from his sister, Callisto, the bear of the stars, wood made from the stars, which she gave him. He cut this wood into two strips, one longer than the other. Reynard blessed the shorter one with speed, and Fenrir pulled out on of his teeth and fixed it to one end so that it could kill. Manguni gave feathers for the other end to bless it with silence and accuracy. The three furred gods each plucked a hair from their pelts and tied them together to create a long string which they fixed to each end of the longest stick, bending it.

“If you kill Michabor, the first buck, with this bow the lagomorphs will die.

Hittavainen descended to earth to fulfill his purpose. It was easy to find Michabor, for his warren was the largest of all and he frolicked with his Owsla often. He took aim for Michabor’s neck, using his teaching from Fenrir. He pulled back the string with all the strength of Arcas, but before he could loose the shaft, Wepuat, the goddess who had defended him came down and stayed his hand. Hittavainen looked at the goddess, and in tat instant he knew that he loved the goddess and would do anything for her. Wepuat loved him as well, but she also loved her people.

“Please,” she begged Hittavainen, “do not kill my people.” Hittavainen’s eyes saddened.

“I was created to put an end to them. I must obey my purpose.”

“No, Hittavainen. You were not created to kill, merely to punish. Do not kill my people, injure them. If you merely strike Michabor with your arrow, he will not die, but the lagomorphs’ abilities will weaken and they will not be so arrogant.”

Hittavainen nodded and released his arrow, hitting Michabor through the ear. Michabor’s eyes went wide and his tail turned white with his fright. So big was his fear that all lagomorphs felt it and sprang into their burrows as he did. But not all could go deep enough to escape the weasel, for their warrens had rose slightly. Some did not make it to their burrows and were caught by the foxes, killed by the wolves, and carried off by the owls. And so the rabbits and hares were never so great again, but never completely died.

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