The Wood Thief Who Stole the Sun

[The Khajiti seem to have a strange familiarity with their gods, a fact that is no more evident than in the folk tale I have transcribed below. I remembered you made a habit of collecting such novelties on your travels, long before my time. I include it unedited, for your amusemant, as it was told to me by a popular trader outside of Senechal.]

Come closer my wet eared kittens, for my voice has become dry from abuses. This has been a day of much learning for all, as I see your heads are full and your bellies empty. Tomorrow promises to be just as ripe as the day before. I will share what meager cakes and sweet meats I have, to keep you from taking them from under my left and right whiskers while I drone on.

Ha! As if you could. For I am quicker and slyer than all of you together and will still be when you reach my years and I twice as old as I am now! So if you are willing, I will be so kind as to also share with you a story of one whose quickness and slyness would shame me once and all of you double. But first let us be clean so we may take our meal.

We will do it as it has been done before, so as not to offend the gods of whom we will speak, or the host who has graciously allowed you in. Please place your paw in the bowl, whether it is fleshy or fur, and wipe from muzzle to ear tip. Dry your paws on your belly (Again I am your better for mine is much larger and fit for the task!) Now, pass the bowl to your neighbor and take a treat so I may begin.

I will tell my story as I know it, and as truthful as I can, so long as it can stay interesting. As Azurah sees the sun fall to dusk, I swear that what I say happened during the dances of Jone and Jode long ago. Let us count the fall of the sun with the beat of the drum. We mark it thus because it was not always so! As they go bang! Bang! BANG! I say it was so! So! SO! May my fur become patches if I lie!

For this is the story of how a clever Khajiit would steal the sun. And more audacious still return it to the sky! You may think I lie but look at how thick my fur remains, as whole as when I began. But why would she do such a thing, for she was a maiden not much older than the oldest of you? And how could she steal Magrus’ eye, for while quick and sly she was no more a god than you or I?

The sun has begun to set and my story is still long. She was a simple tree-cutter and entered the place of Big Oaks where the Bosmeri hide with their slickened arrows. It was for her pride she stole the forest people’s homes, for she loved her pride more than her own life and so braved their barbs. It was a hot day when this occurred, for there was no other type of day then. All the day was long, never to end, for Magrus was prideful and never closed his eye, even when he should. Azurah spoke to him with hard words, but even she could not sway him, so happy was he with his sun.

The tree-cutter had just closed her eyes to sleep beneath a towering oak, to better escape the heat when a noise frightened her. She knew the steps were coming close (begin to stomp your paws upon the ground to match the drum) and she said to herself, “Oh no! I must hide or I will surely be found.” So she did just that, hiding in the broad branches above her head. And none too soon; because as she disappeared two of the forest people stepped out of their woods beside the oak.

They were young and not long from the teat and moved with the witless grace of their kind. They ran to the tree and stumbled to the spot where the tree-cutter had been moments before.

“Oh ho!” said the tallest one. “Someone has been sleeping under our favorite tree, which we come to praise each day by our silly whims!” She then turned to stare dumbly at her brethren. “Do you think they are still nearby?”

“Damn these silly elves!” thought the tree-cutter. “By sheer luck they have trapped me in this tree which is so far from the others. There is no way I can escape without them seeing me.”

The companion stared into the shadows of the branches above them, his weak eyes unable to see the trapped Khajiit maiden. “It may be that a trespasser was sleeping under our tree.” He thought a moment. “…And it may be that they heard us approach with witless haste…” He thought longer still. “…So this trespasser who slept beneath the tree may have climbed the tree to evade us…” And we who tell the story will now ignore the plodding thinker and leave him to his hobbled thoughts!

In the tree, the Khajiiti maiden began to worry. Foolish and slow though they may be, even the woodfolk could not fail to catch her or kill her with swift arrow should she try to escape. Sweat began to flow from the skin of her brow. She gnashed her teeth to fight back the hunger in her belly, for it had been many hours since her last meal. She pulled her ear tufts worrying about her pride, who could not fail to mark the lateness of her return.

So now pull on your fur and ears, as did she for the pride who awaits all our safe returns at day’s end!

Rend the blankets and cushions upon the ground with sharpened tooth and claw to celebrate the hunger; for it is the void to be filled by mischief and clever thinking!

We now count the drops of her fear by slapping the dirt with our paws. For fear is the fuel that stokes the fire of great deeds!

[Part 1 of 2]

At last the bosmeri boy, clearly the great thinker of his time and boon to his forest living brethren, decided that by sheer luck they may have caught a tree-cutter…or nothing at all. To be safe they agreed to rest and see what was in the tree when Magrus reached the rim. As I explained before and will explain again, for the less attentive of you, Magrus never closed his eye in these times. He was like a precocious kitten with a new plaything. All through that long day, which had lasted many years by the reckoning of Jone and Jode, he would bat his affection from one corner of the heaven to the others, only to repeat the process again. Never did his eye pass below the rim, lest any should fail to remember who held the sun in their eye. “For when Magrus lets his eye settle on the rim,” surmised the lady bosmer, “you say we shall see whether the tree contains something or nothing? Why I think that will be marvelous and can think of no better fun to do until then but sit and wait!”

And so both young Bosmeri settled beneath the tree, standing upon their heads, for these were tired from such strenuous exercise. Let us now realize their comfort and place our heads upon our cushions with our hind legs reaching to the sky; Jode resting on our left paw, Jone on the right!

Now the tree-cutter was very fearful, but she was keen as any of her older and wiser kin, even those few older and cleverer than me! She began to climb the oak, hoping that one of the shielding branches may reach closer to one of the distant trees. But no such branch existed, even as she neared the top. She now worried that she would surely be seen by the forestfolk or fall from the tree from weakness. She allowed only a small mew of sadness as she surveyed her potential fates, but found it answered by a deep, soothing purr!

“My child, I fear that your tree will not grow taller the quicker you climb it. Why do you wish to be so high above sister Nirni?” The voice echoed down upon the maiden, changing subtly like our light at dusk.

“Oh, Azurah, mother of Khajiits in this harsh world! I fear my wits have failed me and I will escape only by your aid unless you are too late or lazy! Magrus will soon unwittingly show my hiding spot to the forestfolk below unless I may leave this too-tall-oak. Shadow such as those found in this tree are what I need, but much darker and more evenly spread. Is there nothing you may do?”

“Petulant child, you make mother proud with your quick words and barbed tongue. I will not suffer to see a kitten such as you fall to such humble children of Y’ffer. I fear I have tried to reason with Magrus before, but to no avail. You may try for I believe you possess something he would desire.” And so Azurah taught the tree-cutter how to climb at angles with the wind. She then summoned her sister Khenarthi so she could curve the air just so. Let us rattle the drums and cooking pots as Khenarthi does upon the plains in winter with her breath!

The tree-cutter rose quickly in the sky, following the path of clouds set down by Azurah, far above the face of Nirni. She strode onto the rim of the world and peered across the vault, which even her cat eyes strained to contain. Soon she could see Magrus, chasing his shining toy towards her; his tail bristled in bluster and excitement. The sun came to rest beside the maiden and, with little thought and even less haste, she scooped it into her satchel. Magrus struck the rim with a peal of thunder and lay briefly dazed. He then turned on the tree-cutter.

“What have you done with my shining eye, Wood Thief!” he whined with a roar. “It was not yours to take and yet I see it peaking from your satchel.”

The maiden was shocked by the change, gone was the blissful kitten at play, now he arose as a spiteful spirit so like Merrunz in tone and demeanor. His anger waxed while patience waned. The maiden did not explain her predicament to him as he simply continued sputtering and hissing as he advanced. (Let us all hiss like Merrunz while the drums beat the maiden’s heart beat.) Instead, she simply said, “I have something you want.”

Merrunz looked at her quizzically, his muzzle inches from her face. “You know not what you offer, for little else could be given in exchange from my shining eye except blood!” He opened his jaws to show his dripping fangs, but again stopped at the maidens voice.

“Is that all? Then I offer you better than blood for I will give you my heart. I will take it back after I have done with your eye as I need, for I have caught it fair-wise.” With that the maiden made a gift of her beating heart to Magrus-in-Merrunz who studied it at length.

“I deem it an acceptable offer for my eye.” He then considered the maiden before him. “Understand, Wood Thief, that while my eye may be an idle plaything, your heart will remain but a curious beauty. It will remain unspoiled and waiting for when you have need of it.”

The tree-cutter then took her leave of Merrunz-in-Magrus and returned by way of the clouds to the tree that had been her prison. A change had come, however, for now the cool shadows of the tree had strayed far beyond its bounds, covering all of Nirni. The bosmeri awoke to find the maiden before them and were too startled to draw their slickened bows.

“I have climbed to the vault of the world and back to avoid your witless trap, having lost my heart in the process.” Her words were lost on the simple forestfolk as they nervously eyed the glowing bulge of her satchel. She held this before her as she purred the next words. “For too long have you kept us from these woods during the long time between dawn and dusk. Now that Magrus’ eye is no longer in the sky, dusk has fallen. This will be our time to move and take as we wish” She opened the bag and light drove forth, the bosmeri fleeing before it into the woods. “With the dawn to follow ever after until the end.”

Now little kittens I have told my story truly and we have all been entertained, but Azurah has again shown the spry Wood Thief how to retrieve the sun from Magrus by way of dusk. Our story is not yet done (For what story can ever be truly finished except by a more gifted teller than I?) as you will all go to your bedding and awake to find your heart where it belongs, as Magrus’ eye is returned at the dawn.

Let us mark our parting without tears, for the taste of sugar is sweeter when dry. Now leave my tent awning empty and return only when you have your own stories to trade on another day!

[Part 2 of 2]

That was a good read. Thanks for sharing.

Glad you enjoyed it. Khajiit aren't normally my favorite, but it was fun to write!