The Myth of the Flame Falcon

An interview with the native elf A'helor, transcribed by Arcangelir Arensmire

Friend Arcangelir, you have asked about the feathers I wear in my hair. Have I ever told you about the tanye'ena'helo...which is flame falcon in your tongue? Well then, many cycles ago when the world was yet young the animals and trees still spoke with the tongue of the fei'tandel. The world that the Great Mother, Kishar, had made for her children was complete. Kitanye, what you call the sun, burned fiercely in the sky and the First Long Sleep had not yet occurred, so we new nothing of the cold of Winter.

So it was that Kishar began to tire and the world grew colder. We fei'tandel huddled together for warmth but we had nothing to stave off the chill winds, the chattering teeth, and the shaking bones. We called upon the Yai'Tanda, Kishar, to come to our aid but it was too late and she was fast asleep beneath a white blanket of snow.

The animals saw this and held council. "Surely we must help the First Children, while the Mother sleeps," they said. "We are all children of the Yai'Tanda, and must love and look out for one another." At this friend elk spoke up, "Brother wolf, sister bear, see how they have no covering of fur as we do. Let us give of ourselves our very coats to the First Children. This act of love will surely block the chill winds, silence the chattering teeth, and warm the shaking bones." And so it was that many of the animals laid down their coats for the fei'tandel.

But the pelts sacrificed did little to stop the biting cold of the First Long Winter. Once again the animals held council, though not a few looked on in despair. "What else can we do?" they asked one another. "Our very own skin is not enough to shield the First Children from the Mother's long sleep." Eventually friend hare spoke up, "Cousin beaver and I will lead the Fei'Tandel to our dens, so that they may learn to dig homes for themselves, or construct them from fallen trees. Surely nests of their own will block the chill winds, silence the chattering teeth, and warm the shaking bones." And it was so that the animals showed the Fei'Tandel to their lairs, and the First Children learned from this and created shelters for themselves.

But while these shelters held off the howling winds, they did little to alleviate the bitter cold. Finally, the animals held council one last time. "There is nothing more we can do," they cried despondently. "Should the First Children perish surely it is the Mother's will." At length friend falcon appeared with a tree bough in her talons. "I will fly to the very heights of Kitanye, and I will bring back some of its warmth with this very branch. This, I will do, though I should perish along the way, out of love for the First Children." And with that she flapped her great wings and alighted.

Up she flew, through the falling snow and howling winds. Higher and higher she climbed, though she began to tire. She clasped the branch tightly, for she would not be able to make such a journey twice. And when it seemed her wings would fail her, the cold of the First Long Winter seemed to melt away as Kitanye loomed ahead of her. She flew up to the very surface of the Great Fire and dipped the branch down so that it burst into flames.

Upon her return she sounded her a'helor and the Fei'Tandel and animals all gathered around. They had thought a fireball was falling from the sky but were shocked to see that a great change had overcome the brave falcon. Her feathers once brown and grey and black had turned to red and orange and yellow, like that of a hearth fire. When she had landed she bowed her head and presented her gift to the First Children. And it was this gift that the Fei'Tandel used to survive the First Long Winter, blocking the chill winds, silencing the chattering teeth, and warming the shaking bones.

That is how the tanye'ena'helo, the flame falcon, got her name, and if it were not for her Kishar would have awoken from her slumber to find not the Fei'Tandel.