Deeheeman and the Spirit of Courage
What here follows is a retelling of a popular tale, much known and of great popularity here in northern Mathrava, as recounted to me by my guide Asra Bhawadi. It recounts the tale of Deeheeman, a Vanaran demigod widely worshipped by the Mathravans yet little understood in Cassamor and of which I believe would be of interest to my fellow countrymen. This legend is but a short part of the great epic poem, the Hazraparitram, which I would urge all my colleagues to seek out and read in its entirety. In Cassamoran, the poem's title would roughly translate to 'The Thousand Challenges', and it details the great and legendary feats that Deeheeman, the poem's central figure, supposedly accomplished and which earned him his ascension to semi-divine status. Deeheeman is, unsurprisingly, a popular figure among the youth of Mathrava, and his tales are oft requested of parents as bedtime stories and are a favourite subject of Mathravan travelling players and actors who perform in villages and towns across the land.
This tale, known colloquially as 'Deeheeman and the Spirit of Courage', recalls the first of the young Deeheeman's accomplishments. It is also believed to be the origin of a much-beloved spirit here in the north and elsewhere, though the truth of this is, naturally, difficult to confirm except to ask the demigod himself.
"Not embittered, but saddened the he should endevour to leave behind his village, his home, and all whom he knew and loved, Deeheeman took to the road, his heart resolved that he should not return until he had achieved strength enough to prove himself before his father and his brothers. His village soon lay far behind him, yet he continued on in good spirits, singing a song to himself so that he might have company on his journey. He knew not where his destination lay, or how he might attain the strength he sought, but he felt sure that he would know it when the moment came.
After a few days upon the road, pondering on the nature of the task he had set before himself, Deeheeman heard a great cry somewhere beyond the edge of the road, a cry of despair and distress. Without thought, Deeheeman abandoned the road for the wild woods about him, hurrying towards the commotion he had heard. More cries reached him, doubtless of some poor imperilled soul. Through the undergrowth Deeheeman rushed, and there he came upon a glade with a single greet Diwa tree at its centre.
Beneath the boughs of the tree lay a maiden, fair and beautiful, yet gripped by fear, for above her swooped two monstrous creatures - their bodies were those of a human yet twinned with those of birds, with taloned feet and broad wings in place of arms, fowl feathers across their flesh and their mouths lined with terrible fangs. The harpies flew about the prostrate maid, their talons snatching and filling the glade with cruel and mocking cries as they sought to bear her away to a terrible doom.
Without pause or thought of self-regard, Deeheeman lept forward with a hoot and a yell of battle, snatching up a great gnarled branch from the earth as he went. The harpies turned and came at him in turn, angered at their hunt being disrupted. Deeheeman swung his bough with great force and courage, swatting at the flying beasts as they slashed and raked their claws across his flesh. Terrible were the wounds he bore, yet he fought on until with one great swing he crushed the skull of one of the harpies. It's mate shrieked in fury and vengeance, but fear of Deeheeman's onslaught drove it to flee, winging up into the air with a curse of vengeance on its lips. But before it could make good it's escape, Deeheeman made a great leap up into the Diwa tree and sprung from the branches, catching the harpy a terrible blow with the bough and they fell to the earth, the one dead and the other grievous wounded.
Deeheeman lay upon the bare earth, his blood soaking the soil of the glade but elated at his victory. The maiden herself came to his side, kneeling and taking his hand in gratitude. Her name, she told him, was Sumarla, a spirit of the Diwa tree that grew at the glade's heart. 'Why would you, a mortal, so imperil yourself to save one such as me?' she asked him as she tended his wounds. 'Neither kith nor kin are we. No friend or home, other than my lonely Diwa tree have I to mourn me if I had died. Had you continued on your way there would be none to proclaim you coward. A mortal so young has much to live for, yet you would risk all for me with no thought of thanks or payment in return. Tell me why.'
Though in much pain, Deeheeman would only smile and he replied in good cheer. 'Fair Lady, it is by the nature of my journey that I did so. How might I claim to seek courage and the strength I require if I had turned away. Then I would well curse myself and forsake all hope of peace and comfort, than to live knowing I had abandoned one in such direst need.'
Sumarla was moved by the young Vanaran's good nature and earnest words, empty of pride or conceit. Over the following days, as she nursed Deeheeman back to health, the pair fell in love. Yet one morning soon after, as they lay beneath the shade of the Diwa tree and basked in the warmth of their affection, Deeheeman told her that me must continue on his journey, for his oath yet lay before him unfulfilled.
'Why do you claim to seek courage?' Sumarla asked, her eyes imploring for Deeheeman to remain. 'Did your deed here not suffice to prove that you possess a courage few else can boast? Why do you seek strength, when many and more would have surely perished had they been in your place?'
Deeheeman smiled and laughed at Sumarla whom he loved. 'And yet I am still far from the courage and strength I require, my sweet love,' he told her as gently as he could. 'Those fiends who harried you were as nothing to those of my father and brothers. My brothers have the strength to best an army of thousands, and my father a thousand more. Whereas I, I am but a small and feeble thing. And I will not rest until I may stand before them as their equal.'
Sumarla bowed her head, weeping bitter tears at the young Deeeheeman's stubboness. 'How blind you must be, to so lower yourself and yet so vaunt those whom have shown you little kindness. The truth of your courage already lies before your eyes, if you would but look up and see it.' Sumarla then reached up towards a low-hanging branch of the Diwa tree, and from it plucked a perfect fruit of pale flesh and sweet aroma. 'Never before has a Diwa tree borne fruit,' she whispered to him and presenting the fruit. 'Yet now it has, from the soil watered by your courage and from our passion as we lay beneath it's auning, and here now bears the proof of Deeheeman's courage.'
Yet in the face of all of Sumarla's pleas, Deeheeman knew that he could not give up his voyage, huanted by a doubt that Sumarla could not assuage. At last, Sumarla relented, for she too knew in her heart that the young mortal's fate lay far from her side. Before he could bid farewell, she crafted for him two gifts so that he might remember their love. The fallen branch which he had wielded in her defence she crafted into a mighty gada for him to carry. And from the fruit of the Diwa tree she brewed a potent spirit, clear and sweet yet full of fire and power. She placed the spirit into an earthen bottle and gave it to Deeheeman to take with him. 'Should you ever doubt yourself,' she told him. 'Sup of this, and you shall be reminded of what you have always carried with you.'
Deeheeman graciously accepted both of Sumarla's gifts and departed, carried onwards on his travels and the challenges that yet lay ahead.
Sumarla found that she could no longer bear to remain in her glade, so pained was she by Deeheeman's absence. She looked upon her Diwa tree, now heavy with the fragant fruiting flowers that were the proof of their love, and made her own vow. She would have the world know the truth of Deeheeman's courage, even if Deeheeman himself would not see it. She crafted a reed basket and filled it with the fruit of the Diwa tree, and left the grove which had been her home for countless mortal lifetimes. She journeyed across the earth, planting the seeds of the Diwa tree far and wide, and from each new tree flourished more of the sweet fruits. She would not rest until all had tasted it and all could know the courage of Deeheeman."
Author's Note
Northern Mathravan's claim that all Diwa trees now bear fruit as a result of Sumarla's vow. Locals distil the delicate pale-yellow flowers over several days to produce a clear and sweet-smelling spirit that is much enjoyed across the region and across wider Mathrava. Common belief is that by imbibing diwa (the name of the drink shares the name of the tree from which it is made), one might sample but a tiny fraction of the courage which Deeheeman bore within him. The spirit is said to calm the nerves and instil bravery into those who drink it, and I am told Mathravan soldiers commonly drink it on the eve of battle, despite it being forbidden for soldiers to ingest alcohol in many kingdoms.
From my own experience, I can attest to the encouraging effects of diwa, though one must exercise caution. Bravery and confidence soon give way to recklessness and foolhardy bravado after too much of the stuff, and it is so strong that it quickly robs one of the capability of achieving anything for which courage would have been required in the first place.
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