Interlude 23: The Raven's Treasure
Avvar Folktale
The Lady of the Skies favored the birds, though she cared for all creatures that lived and died in the land. She could be equally moved by compassion and by wrath. As such, she created balance among the creatures, gifting each special talent that suited their natures. Some creatures took advantage of their gifts with care and some utilized their gifts foolishly.
To the raven, Cadfarra, she bestowed cunning and fleet wings. The only bird that could fly faster than Cadfarra was Blodewedd, the owl. Blodewedd's wings carried death and whispered it in the nightmares of the other animals. To the ptarmigan, Kiiru, the Lady gave a humble and giving heart, but the bird was not swift of wing. She also gave the bird the ability to hide among the grass and rocks so that it had the chance to remain safe when the owl scoured the land from the skies with keen eyes.
Kiiru fell in love with Cadfarra, and desired to court her, but the raven laughed at the little fat bird, mocking him mercilessly. Regardless of Cadfarra's cruel laughter, Kiiru continued to pursue her, earnestly desiring her love. This caused Cadfarra to laugh at him more for his stubborn tenacity.
One day, Cadfarra sought out Kiiru and offered, "You still profess to love me, oh stalwart fowl?"
"Of course," Kiiru affirmed, "my Dark Lady. You are most beautiful to me. Have you decided to relent and bestow your favor upon me and become my bride?"
"I have given it great consideration and I am willing to marry you on one condition," the raven smirked at her humble beau.
The chubby bird could not contain his enthusiasm, "Name it! Tell me your desire and it shall be my aim to fulfill it. I would even crawl to the center of the mountains to bring forth any treasure you could wish."
"Ah, then what I ask of you would be quite easy in comparison," Cadfarra taunted, her smile becoming wider, "When you beat me in a flying race, then I shall be your bride."
If it was at all possible, the pale bird grew even paler. He shuffled his feathered feet and hung his head. However, he agreed to the terms of the race, hoping that a miracle might occur and he would win his deepest heart's desire.
It was all for naught! For a time, Cadfarra held back and refrained from flying fast in order to boost Kiiru's hopes. He had short bursts of speed causing him to pull ahead, but the race was longer than he could maintain. At the last instant, Cadfarra the raven stretched her wings so they caught a swifter breeze and she soared past Kiiru and crossed the agreed upon marker first.
She found a branch to perch upon, but the ptarmigan, in his despondency, sat upon the ground. He wept in disappointment as Cadfarra laughed in the tree above him and taunted, "What made you think, oh foolish fowl, that you would ever beat me? You are too fat and your wings are too shallow. You hop far better than you fly. Perhaps you are more rabbit than bird?"
This time, the cruel turn of her words was too much to bear. Kiiru sobbed great gasping croaks into his wings. The sound was so pitiful that it caused a mole to poke his head from his hole to discover the source of the commotion. He looked from Kiiru to the cruel raven and listened as the black bird continued to needle and mock the grieving bird.
Filled with indignation on the part of Kiiru, the mole bawled up at Cadfarra, "Why do you feel entitled to torment him so?"
"I am a queen among birds. Only one, Blodewedd, can best me in the air. Any who cannot compete should remain earth bound with you lesser beasts," she answered disdainfully.
Siors, the mole, shook the dirt from his hide, waddled out of the hole and shook an angry fist at the raven, "What do you mean by lesser beasts? You are just as likely to be a meal for Blodewedd as the rest of us; more so if you consider that you pass your time in her realm more than we. You are not beneath her notice."
"I would rather be Blodewedd's meal than grovel in the dirt," Cadfarra laughed haughtily at the mole, lifting her beak in an airy, "caw, caw" that echoed off the mountains.
"The soil has treasures the likes of which you will never see," Siors spat at her, his mind forming a plan to humble the raven, "At the roots of the north mountain lies a shiny stone that is so bright, it seems to have captured a rainbow within its core."
Though the raven would never admit it, mention of the shiny stone piqued Cadfarra's interest. She nonchalantly questioned, "Where did this stone come from?"
"When the Mountain Father buried his heart, the Lady of the Skies cried great tears for his folly. The tears fell to the ground, seeping down to find the missing heart. Though the heart was eventually retrieved, the tears remained, hardening until they became stone." Siors explained this, knowing the raven's weakness for shiny stones. He assumed that her inability to dig up so great a prize would drive the haughty raven mad.
"Such a great treasure does not belong to the lowly ground," Cadfarra stated, staring down her beak at both the mole and the ptarmigan, "it originated in the sky and to the sky it should be returned. I shall see this done."
"How do you intend to do this, oh haughty one?" Siors inquired, cocking his head before reminding her, "You have no claws with which to dig. The only thing your skinny feet can do is make thin scratches to try to unearth worms. I have no intention to aid you and you have abused your admirer to the point where he would be mad to offer you help. Alone you cannot hope to achieve your aim."
Again, Cadfarra laughed at the pair sitting on the ground beneath her, "I do not need your help, nor would I be foolish enough to ask for it. I shall acquire the stone on my own. When I have achieved this feat, I will carry the stone and return it to the sky so that it can sparkle with the stars."
The mole and the ptarmigan shook their heads in the face of the raven's bravado before she could laugh at them further. The ptarmigan returned to his nest on a rocky ledge among scrub grass and the mole burrowed down into the earth again. Cadfarra continued to chuckle softly to herself until her humor abated and she began to consider her dilemma.
She would never admit it, but Siors had been correct: her thin feet and full wings would not allow her to tunnel into the ground. However, she was cunning, and knew of many animals that could dig in the ground and would be able to gain access to the stone. As she considered all her possibilities, Brocha the badger came waddling through the forest looking for food to prepare for the winter.
Cadfarra swooped down and greeted the badger, "Good day, Cymam.* How are you this fine day?"
The badger was reasonably suspicious of the raven's sudden friendliness, but was still curious as to what the raven really wanted, so she replied, "I am well, Winged One. I am attempting to glut myself with food to sustain myself for winter before I build my nursery burrow. What has drawn your attention to me?"
"So, you will be digging a nursery for your young?" Cadfarra simpered, trying to sound sweet, "You will need to find the perfect spot so that none will be able to disturb you. You will also need to line your nest to help keep your young warm."
Brocha was quite old and could tell that Cadfarra was attempting to manipulate her. The raven, however, spoke true: she did need to find something warm to line her nest to keep her young warm when they were born. If she could find a way to use the situation to her advantage, Brocha could trick Cadfarra into helping her.
"What you say is quite true," Brocha confirmed, "if only I could find the perfect spot for my nursery. It requires much digging and is so exhausting."
"As it so happens," Cadfarra offered, "I know of the perfect spot. It is said that the area near the root of the north mountain would be the best when making a burrow, or so I have heard from a mole. They are skilled diggers, like yourself."
The mother badger nodded her head, "You could be right. If I were to make the entrance in the dirt and angle the tunnel down, it would limit others digging straight down into my home. That however leaves the potential problem of having what is necessary to line my nest."
"I am sure we will think of something," the raven reassured the badger, fluffing her feathers.
"Yes, I am sure we will think of something," agreed Brocha, eyeing Cadfarra's feathers thoughtfully.
The pair made their way to the base of the mountain. On reaching a likely spot, Brocha began to dig and Cadfarra watched the badger's progress. Occasionally, the raven would make pointed suggestions on the proper way to dig the burrow or when the badger should improve her digging angle. The badger remained silent, conspicuously ignoring the raven as she tried to consider a way to get Cadfarra to surrender her feathers for the nursery nest.
When the badger had disappeared from the raven's view, the bird began to pace at the mouth of the tunnel, calling down periodically to inquire about Brocha's progress. To these inquiries she would receive the occasional grunt from the busy badger. Craning her neck down the opening she listened for hours until finally the raven thought she heard a satisfied sigh far below, accompanied by silence.
Gingerly, Cadfarra tottered down the tunnel in search of Brocha. Loose dirt fell onto her head and into her wings, causing her to ruffle her feathers to dislodge it. Her patience was wearing thin as she groped about in the dark, following the curve of the tunnel down deep. Eventually the thin tunnel opened out into a wider chamber, where the badger lay in the middle of the floor, panting after all of her exertion in digging.
"Is this it?" the raven whined.
In the darkness, the raven could just see Brocha open her black eyes. They seemed to glow with a dim light, even in the pitch black. The badger regarded the bird for a moment before grumbling, "This is my nursery, but as we have both observed, it is missing something."
"Did you find anything here while you were digging?" Cadfarra inquired hopefully, seeming unaware of Brocha's statement.
"I did find one thing. There was an immense stone that I unearthed. I am resting my head on it, for it feels warm against my fur. Perhaps I will keep it so that it can help to warm my young when they are born." Cadfarra could not see the skew of Brocha's eyes as she spoke, gaging the raven's reaction.
"No…" the raven cut in before recovering her composure, "something hard would not be good for your young. They need something soft to snuggle."
"I have nothing soft here," wheedled the badger, "and this stone is so warm."
Cadfarra stood silently for a moment, frantically trying to discover a way to convince the badger to part with the stone, "Perhaps we could make a trade. My feathers would be able to line your nest and it is soft enough for your young to snuggle into."
"Oh, I do not think you have enough feathers equal to the value of the stone's warmth," Brocha replied.
"I have many feathers!" the raven argued, "I could give you all my feathers and it would be more than enough to compensate you for the stone."
"Are you sure?" the badger questioned.
With that, the raven began to pluck her feathers from her back with her beak. Each tug caused a brief pain, but she desperately wanted the stone. After so many tugs, her skin became numb to the sensation and her dark plumes littered the floor of the wide chamber.
Eventually the badger interrupted the raven's impassioned plucking, "I think this will more than suffice, my kind bird. These feathers will keep my young quite warm. Here, you may have the stone to recompense you for your kindness."
"Thank you," Cadfarra panted before picking up her prize in her beak. As she began to hobble up the tunnel she thought to herself, "The furry fool! She has no idea what she gave me and all it cost me was a few feathers. They will grow back in time. The tear of the Lady is MINE!"
As Cadfarra emerged from the tunnel, the chill autumn air caused her to shiver. The pale moon gazed down into the clearing making the grass and trees seem strangely stark. She stretched her wings and hopped into the air, only to come crashing back to the ground. The impact caused the bird a sickening realization that she had plucked too many feathers in her eagerness and therefore could not fly. To make matters worse, the stone glittered in the moonlight, making the raven even more obvious on the ground for sharp eyes.
Her eyes widened in panic when a familiar shadow crossed the sky. Blodewedd was hunting in the moonlight and Cadfarra was painfully exposed to the owl's merciless gaze. The raven hobbled for cover within a copse of trees and cried quietly to herself around the gorging stone in her beak, the tears flowing down her now pink patched cheeks.
She had to find a place to hide, but where could she go? She refused to return to the Brocha's tunnel for fear the beast would change her mind and take back the stone in exchange for shelter. Cadfarra could not fly to her nest high in the fir tree without wings. There was nowhere else she could go, except…
It was a humble raven that approached Kiiru's nest among the scrub grass on the rocky crags. Clearing her throat, she attempted to call sweetly, "Oh friend, would you be willing to offer shelter to your beloved?"
The ptarmigan was quite startled when he poked his head out from his nest to see the scrawny raven hoping from one foot to the other. He could not resist, he began to cackle and guffaw with great gulps, rivaling his previous sobbing. It echoed to the skies and skittered across the rocks.
Cadfarra stood there mortified, hanging her head in shame, no longer haughty.
When the laughter had subsided, Kiiru invited the chastened raven into his home, along with her hard won treasure. Through that winter, she lived with him as his wife, but when spring returned and her wings were full again, she left her kind husband to return to her solitary existence.
Some say she fulfilled her promise and returned her stone to the sky. Some say that she left the stone behind in the ptarmigan's nest in thanks for Kiiru's kindness, with it was also an egg for the bird to treasure. Some say that the raven still returns to her humble husband when the snows become deep and all other places are closed to her.
Regardless of what you believe, we all know that Kiiru can still be heard on clear nights with gales of croaking laughter whenever he thinks of his foolish wife and how she looked that night when she appeared humbled at his feet, plucked of her pride.
*Cymam: An Avvar term of endearment or respect for an older woman meaning, "Wise Mother."