Ha’asja Muursamul (Transl. 'Eyes of the Muursamul')

Ha’asja Muursamul ('The Eyes of the Muursamul') is the first myth in the Soha Oppalil Amatolja ('The Saga of Amatolja').   Soha Oppalil Amatolja is a collection of myths detailing the life and deeds of the legendary hero Amatolja, who was blessed by a powerful Ajovoun. They performed numerous acts of heroism, such as defeating possessed tjaetsiimaj attacking a lamass and aiding the deity Jusokyahka in stopping the beast Seempola from crossing the Soha Hyssna.  

History

 

Account of Myth

Reesjat raises their head, and then raises their hand.   They all stop on the trail. Uneasy eyes turn to the elder whose attention lay somewhere off in the desolate landscape. The animals snort, as eager as the rest of them to leave and not linger near these wounded plains. They had felt it days before: how the world shook as the sky was alit with Seempola’s eye. And on today’s travel they had all witnessed how close the Beast had truly been. Its horrid claws had reached past the Hyssna and ripped the earth, splitting it open.   And they are all wary that when the Bright Ones go to sleep it’ll come once more. They needed to reach the next lamass before the Oniijavat crawls out of its fur to coax those beneath into another frenzied hunt.   Aiijalaat is just about to speak up and urge their parent to dismiss whatever it was they had heard, when they hear it too. A light wailing and crying carried on the distant wind. It sounded like a child. And it came from somewhere deep inside the ruptured, fog-covered fields. It cuts deep into their heart like a knife and their first instinct is to rush out and find the source. A firm hand grabs their arm after they only manage to take a single step.   “No, you mustn’t listen. Nothing can be alive out there, the Oniijavat is trying to deceive us,” Eeimee told them.   “We can’t be sure,” Aiijalaat protested, more inclined to listen to their own heart than the sensibility of their sibling. “Can we forgive ourselves if we’re wrong?”   Many of the others aren’t convinced, and they seek the gaze of Reesjat. But the elder too looks uncertain. Aiijalaat decides to persist.   “I will take my spear. Go to the lamass and pray for the Ajovoun to watch over me. I will be back before the Bright Ones close their eyes.”   And with spear in hand, Aiijalaat leapt into the fog, and is gone from their sight. They know the hunter is surefooted and capable. But, despite so they are worried it’s the last time they’ll see them. With unease in their hearts they do as asked and continue on the trail ahead to pray for their safe return.   The fog is thick and the ground beneath their feet treacherous. Aiijalaat continue deeper and deeper into the wounded land in search for the source of the heart-wrenching sound. Only briefly do they pause as color break the grays and whites and browns all around. A tent of broken wood and ripped cloth, half collapsed into a trench.   They walk closer, peer over the edge, and regret it. A pair of bodies rest at its bottom. Bent into unnatural angles, torn, battered, and half eaten by animals. It could be the Moosjmaji tribe they sometimes crossed paths with on this trail - had they all been in the way of the Beast’s claws? Aiijalaat continues, but at a slower and more cautious pace.   They stop again as a strange sight call for their attention. The torn remains of a tjaetsiimaj lay abandoned at the edge of another destroyed tent. Aiijalaat spot several more carcasses litter the remains of a tribe’s camp. It’s nearly as many as the number of ravaged bodies of the people once inhabiting it. They don’t know what to make of it. These animals follow Seempola’s shadow, feasting on anything that fall under its darkness. What would have killed them here?   In the center of the demolished camp they finally reach the source of the sound they were following. A long child wander the destruction, crying uncontrollably and calling for a family that’s long since left for the Hyssna. The scene is surreal: seeing this unharmed child among the dead, and Aiijalaat stand frozen in place. Their heart urge them to rush in and pick up this lone child, but they are also reminded of Eeimee’s words. A rising fear of their sibling being right claims his mind.   Perhaps an Oniijavat had spared this child and now used it to lure them here.   The child notices them and runs close with arms outstretched, seeking comfort and safety even in the arms of a stranger. Despite their wariness, Aiijalaat can’t ignore their plight and sinks down on their knees to embrace the child. They do their best to console them, to answer their desperate and confused questions, still not at all sure what to do.   Aiijalaat is pressured to come to decision. If they are to catch up with their tribe in time they need to leave soon. Can they bring themselves to leave this child, even if it’s what they should do? What would the others think if they see them come with this marked child in their arms?   A sudden shuffle of dirt and stone startle them, and Aiijalaat instinctively grip the spear that they dropped on the ground and rise to their feet. The child step in behind them, and they can feel them press close against one leg. But Aiijalaat’s attention is sharp at what stirred nearby, expecting an Oniijavat to have found them.   With a mix of astonishment, surprise, and fear, Aiijalaat find themselves staring deeply into the large eyes of a muursamul cresting the nearby ridge. The animal is larger than any of its kind they’ve seen before. Fearlessly it towers above them. It stands there, silently and half-obscured in the fog, for a long time. Aiijalaat is tense but waits too. It is impossible to tell what this animal, acting so strange in comparison to its shy and rarely seen kind, would do.   The muursamul fans its brilliant plumage, cries out, and calmly walks off into fog before the echo dies off.   Aiijalaat is stunned, and slowly lowers their spear. Had the Ajovoun heard their prayers and come? Was it the one that had cleansed this place of evil? They look at the child whose cheeks are still streaked with tears. Or was it here to protect this child, and that’s why they walk this place unharmed? Aiijalaat became convinced it must be so, and they couldn’t believe an Ajovoun would leave an Oniijavat nesting in the child to deceive them.   Gently they take the child into their arms, the child's arms embracing Aiijalaat’s neck and their head coming to rest at their shoulder. The child’s breath is warm, their crying soon giving way for tiredness. Aiijalaat turn to find the way back to the trail.