Story of Keshen

1

Listen, as the last man who wandered the Gyaz forest alone did not make it out alive! For when he took his wares through the forest to sell to the next town, he came across a Mavoncz. This Mavoncz had the eyes and skin of a snake on their otherwise human body, with claws like talons instead of hands or feet. It hailed him while he rode through the woods.

“Hello there, traveller,” it said. “I am journeying through the forest to another commune, and I see you are headed in the same direction. May I join you?”

Now this man knew the dangers the Mavonczom posed: their greed, their hatred, their simple beings. Nevertheless, he, being a kindhearted man, allowed the creature onto his cart beside him. He handed an apple to the Mavoncz, who took it without thanking him. When they took a break for the night, resting by the side of the road, the Mavoncz watched the man closely. After waiting for the merchant to fall asleep, the Mavoncz struck, stealing sacks of grain from the man’s cart.

The next morning, the man found the Mavoncz in the same spot it was in when he fell asleep. They greeted each other, and the man saw the cart was missing its wares. He questioned the Mavoncz, who claimed not to know anything, and they continued on their way. The missing bags were later taken by other Mavonczom, friends of the snake-skinned one. They took a break to eat, and while the man’s back was turned, the Mavoncz stole away with more bags, this time with tools. The man returned to find these missing as well, and he asked the Mavoncz, who lied again.

As they continued, the Mavoncz continued to take from the merchant. Eventually, they stopped to eat again, and the merchant hid behind a tree. The Mavoncz, thinking it was unwatched, took more bags from the cart to leave for its friends. The man, however, saw this, and jumped out from behind the tree. He drew his sword on the creature and drove it off, recovering his bags in the process. He then returned to his path and carried on to his destination safely. On his way back, he knew never to trust a Mavoncz again, and ignored any he saw

2

On a sunny summer day, in a village in a clearing, the people saw a witch. This witch walked among them in disguise, knowing they would not be welcome if they revealed themselves. They knocked on the door of a baker, whose pastries were renowned for their quality. The witch asked:

“Please, may I have some milk and bread as I go along my way?”

The baker was shrewd, however, and considered the stranger suspicious. They did not trust their work to the witch, and closed the door. The witch continued to ask other villagers for a meal, but they all had the same responses. The horse-herder refused and the cowherd, a strong Ittünde, both refused. So, the witch left with nothing.

In the forest, the witch pulled out their bull-whip. When they cracked it, a fiery beast emerged from the air, its dark scales sparking in the sunlight. The witch called the beast forward and mounted it, urging it into the sky.

The sky turned dark over the village, and the beast’s growling roared like thunder. It’s breath was smoke with sparks and embers as though they were spittle. This ignited the thatched roofs and wooden beams of the village’s houses, sending the people into a panic. The baker, who was the first to deny the witch their meal, was the first target, followed by the village’s horse-herder. The cowherd was next, but she was brave enough that she called the witch and her beast to the ground. They confronted each other, and the cowherd lured her opponent to the edge of the forest, where they found a sturdy oak tree. They scurried behind the tree and waited for the beast to stick its head between the boughs.

As the beast slithered through, the cowherd grabbed the boughs and bent them until they trapped it within their clutches. The witch, seeing their steed subdued, launched at the cowherd, who dodged, allowing the witch to tumble into the tree-trunk. The cowherd wrapped a thick branch around the witch, imprisoning them against the wood. The cowherd returned to her village, now a hero. The villagers celebrated for four days and four nights, and learned that they should not allow a witch to enter their community again.

3

Once, somewhere in the eight lands, there was a peasant woman who tended chickens. She was happy and she loved her chickens dearly, though she longed for a friend to keep her company. One day, a fox appeared at her door.

“Good day, ma’am,” the fox said. “I would like to ask for one of your chickens.”

The peasant woman refused, slamming the door in the fox’s face. The fox, however, did not give up. He eventually found the woman’s desire for a friend, and so he came up with a plan. He turned himself into a tall, handsome man and returned to the woman’s house. This time he said “Good day, ma’am. I hear you are in need of someone to keep you company. May I come in?”

Thankful for the opportunity, the woman allowed him in. They spoke all night, with the fox-man charming the woman until any and all suspicions were removed from her mind. When she fell asleep, the man changed back into a fox and stole one of the chickens. He feasted on it that night, returning to the woman’s house before sunrise and turning back into a man. The woman noticed that one of her chickens was missing, and asked the man about it.

“I did not see anything last night, ma’am.”

They returned to their conversations, speaking all day until the woman had to sleep again. The man then changed back into a fox and again seized one of the chickens. This chicken was loud when it was caught, and the commotion woke the woman up. She found the fox and expelled him from her coop, chasing him into the forest.

The fox was not defeated, though. He turned back into the man and returned again. “Ma’am,” he said. “Is everything alright?”

“No, sir,” the woman replied. “A fox tried to steal one of my chickens. I am sure it is responsible for my other chicken going missing. Where were you?”

The man said “I was out on a walk while you were sleeping.” This was not enough to calm the woman’s anxieties about him, but she invited him back into her house. She returned to her bed, but did not go to sleep. Instead, she laid awake, waiting for something to happen.

Thinking she was asleep, the man turned back into a fox and snuck back into the chicken coop. The panicked clucking of the chickens alerted the woman, who jumped into the coop with a stick. She chased the fox away, shouting “I allowed you into my house!” for she knew that this was the man she had been speaking to. She had seen him change into the fox, and now she swore she would not trust anyone who promised to give her what she wanted.

4

There was a man once, I don’t know where, who was renowned in his village as a thief. This thief stole not for survival, but for game. He would steal food, tools, toys and more. One day, he took a baker’s kneading trough from their house, reaching in through the window while the man was turned away. When the baker saw his trough was missing, he knew what had happened. He found the thief and berated him.

“Have you nothing else to bring you joy in your life?” he asked. “Are you such a low form of life that you must resort to making others’ miserable?”

Being subjected to a tirade as long and harsh as the thief endured would hurt even the toughest people, even more so a person as weak as him. It was true, he thought, that there was not much else that gave him the same amount of joy as carrying off someone else’s items. It was still painful to hear, though.

He ran off into the forest and began to cry to nobody but the trees and plants and animals. “What can I do but steal?” he asked. “I was not trained to do anything of value, my parents did not prepare me for a productive life!”

The forest remained silent, but his words were not unheard. A wily fox approached him, inquisitive like a fox may want to be. “You know,” it told the thief, “when I am hurt by others, my defense is my teeth.” The fox moved on. An eagle landed on the branch next to him. “When I am hurt by others, my defense is my claws.” Lastly, a deer approached. “When I am hurt by others, my defense is my antlers.”

The thief was inspired, but had nothing to do about it. “But I do not have teeth, I do not have claws, I do not have antlers. What am I to do?”

“There is a witch further in the forest,” a rabbit told him. “She may have an answer for you.”

The man searched for the witch and eventually found her. He spoke. “I have been told that you may have a solution to my problem: I have been hurt by a neighbor who simply disapproves of who I am. How may I solve this problem?”

The witch responded “You seek revenge?”

“I do. Animals have told me what they have as weapons, but I do not have such ferocious tools at my disposal.”

The witch looked at him. “I know of a way to give them to you.”

The thief then asked to be shown this way. The witch began brewing her potions, singing her incantations and moving in her esoteric ways. There was a crack of lightning, a roar of flame, and in the thief’s place stood a Mavoncz. This thief now had the head of a wolf, with jaws twice as powerful. His hands were tipped with long, wicked claws and he already hungered for blood.

“Now go,” the witch urged him. “Go and take your revenge!”

The thief sprinted back to his village to find the man who had insulted him. He found him, but before he could land a bite, he was stopped. The baker used a wooden paddle to bat him aside, and the Mavoncz lept again. This time, he managed to bite the baker on the arm, tearing it nearly all the way off. The rest of the village could hear the commotion, however, and rushed to the baker’s defense.

When the thief came to realize he was outnumbered, he ran back to his home to find his parents. They, however, no longer recognized their son and chased him off as though he were entirely a wolf. He returned to the forest and cried in despair, regretting his life. He knew now that his decision to take such a drastic action to take revenge on something that was true was what brought him to this point, and he knew there was nothing he could do about his decision now. So he became just another Mavoncz.