Chapter 2 - BeeSheep And The Last Shaman

In the days when the far meadows were without their goddess, BeeSheep roamed the land searching for her.

BeeSheep started in the West, in the city known as Be-RuSha, which means “The Place of Grain.” He buzzed up and down the streets looking for any who might know a way toward his digyr.

On his fourth day in the city, when he passed by the marketplace, he overheard tale of a mysterious shaman.

For as our forefathers spoke, it was the shamans who challenged Vigrol, the Digyr of Great Sorceries. It was because they tested him that he revealed unto them the secret sorceries of the world, and taught them how to perform the mystic arts.

However, the Digyr of Great Sorceries came to regret his teaching. He did not like that he had taught humankind to be like him, for now people went seeking the presence of shamans, and not him. So, he set about to revoke from the shamans their knowledge of the mystic arts and sorceries.

But the shamans rebuked him, saying, “were you not the one who gave us this great knowledge? Knowledge of the mystic arts and of the sorceries? We have become great men, and our names have become great in all the land. Why then should we reject this remarkable thing?”

And hearing this, Vigrol’s anger was kindled against them. Vigrol opened his eyes against the shamans, and he caused wolves to come out of the forests and eat those who practiced mystic sorceries. As far as Babel is to Tarshis, so were the wolves who hunted.

Among the shamans, there was only one whom survived. His name was Endor, for he lived in a small village. (This village was named after him, and his descendants.) To the people of his village, Endor was a healer, and he gardened herbs, and mined chalk, so that he could cease their ailments.

Now BeeSheep, having heard of Endor, sought after him. And though it took him six days, BeeSheep found the home of Endor the Shaman.

BeeSheep arrived at the house of Endor and upon the door he bonked his head. Once he bonked. Twice he bonked. Thrice he bonked.

“Speak, so that I may know your name,” Called Endor from within. He had to be wary of the wolves, for sometimes they spoke with human voices.

BeeSheep buzzed, and the shaman opened the door. He greeted him kindly and invited him inside.

“Hello little one, he who is both bee and sheep,” Endor said. “You are indeed searching for the lost goddess, Livadi of Far Meadows. Truly, I tell you, I do not know where she resides. I could, however, perform a spell that may help you find a direction.”

And BeeSheep was excited by this, for until this hour he had no help. But Endor, being old and sly, said to him, “I will only perform this spell, if you do a thing for me. You see, I am the last shaman, for Vigrol has opened his eyes against us. He has caused wolves to eat all my brethren, and even now there awaits a wolf in these lands who seeks to devour me and erase me from the face of the earth because of the knowledge I have, which the gods would seek to repossess.”

“Defeat this wolf for me, friend BeeSheep, and I will help you find your goddess.” Upon hearing these terms, BeeSheep buzzed with dismay, for he was small, and had never fought a wolf before. He was, however, hardened in his heart to complete this task, and he set about doing so.

BeeSheep flew along the roads unto a nearby town, beseeching any who might know where the wolf resided.

On the third day of searching, BeeSheep encountered two hunters returning from the forests, and they spoke in hushed tones about a wolf that had taken their kill. BeeSheep overheard this and asked them about the things which they spoke of.

“It was a great wolf,” spake one of the hunters. “Greater in size than any I have ever laid eyes upon, it’s maw big enough to bite a man in two.”

BeeSheep buzzed, wondering where he might find this wolf. They answered him saying, “follow the river, and in a clearing of trees to the South you will find an oak, and on the lowest branch of the oak there hangs a red kerchief. Go from there to a nearby boulder, and you will find the blood of the deer that we pierced with arrows, and there you may follow the trail that the wolf has left behind.”

BeeSheep buzzed his thanks, and flying alongside the river, toward the South, he came to a clearing of trees. And he found the oak, and upon its lowest branch saw the red kerchief. Within eyesight of the oak, and kerchief was a large boulder, and beside the boulder, still fresh from the morning was blood.

Beside the trail of blood were large wolf prints, and broken branches leading deep into the forest. BeeSheep followed the trail, though he was anxious for he did not know what might await him. 

Do they not speak of the great forest? Many there are who delve within, and fewer there are who return. For this forest was known as the Forest of Gallu (That is to say, The Forest of Demons, or Dark Spirits.)

The farther that BeeSheep went into the forest, the thicker the trees became, their branches and leaves blocking out the sun until it was dark as night.

And BeeSheep came to a place where it was darkness, and the only light was that of the red torches. These are torches that burn red and cast a red glow. They were placed along the trees, and so he followed them in the direction that they went.

Where the torches ended, BeeSheep found a cave, and sitting at the mouth of the cave was the wolf of which the hunters had spoken.

Only the wolf of which they had spoken was not a true wolf, rather, it was a giant. He wore the pelts of many wolves as though they were clothing. He crawled on all fours like a wolf, and blood dripped from his mouth, and sinew stuck in his teeth from the deer carcass at his feet.

His name was Ur, and he was a man of renowned in those days. A descendant of the Mighty Hunter who built Babel. It was he who slew a thousand men in Erech.

And Ur saw BeeSheep approach, and he said, “welcome, little one of Livadi. Have you come to defeat me this day?”

BeeSheep buzzed his response. He was hoping that perhaps the false wolf would relocate to another part of the land.

At this, Ur bellowed, and his laughter was so great that it echoed through the forest as far as a thousand pacings.

“I was sent here by Vigrol, to kill all whom perform mystic sorceries. Man, woman, and child, all of whom act as shamans in the land. For the gods have granted me power and will make my name even greater if I do for them this thing.”

BeeSheep responded with a buzz, and Ur arose from his bloody feast. He stood eight and a half cubits in height.

He answered BeeSheep and said, “Indeed, it was Vigrol who gave out knowledge of the sorceries, and indeed it was also Vigrol who decided that what he had given should be taken away. I care not for triviality. I care not how fickle the gods may be. Vigrol has paid me greatly to perform this deed, and I will not allow even you to stop me.”

Saying this, Ur reached down into the carcass of the deer which he had been feasting, and he pulled from it the femur of the deer which he used as a club.

He began to swat at the BeeSheep, who dodged this way and that. He flew so swiftly that he might not be hit. However Ur was clever, and he was quick. He made a strike towards BeeSheep with the bone and put forth his other hand to catch him.

And so it was that he caught BeeSheep and took him to one of the torches that burned red, and he cast him inside of the flame so that he might catch fire.

The fire caught on BeeSheep’s wool, but BeeSheep was brave, and in the face of the fire he did not falter. He flew from the fire that burned red and dove straight toward Ur.

Because Ur was covered in the skins of wolves, those skins had long since become dry, and like the wool of BeeSheep, it too caught flame.

And BeeSheep stung Ur, and burned him, and then he flew into the carcass of the deer and crawled into the blood that had accumulated in the carcass like a pool, and he used it to extinguish himself.

Ur however was too large and too covered in the dried wolf skins. The fire spread across his body, and he was unable to tear it off, for he had worn the skins for so long that they had stuck to his flesh. 

There was nothing around the he could use to put out the flames that burned red, and he burned there in the cave until his bones were ashes.

BeeSheep arose then, from the blood which he had used to douse the flames, and he was red from head to stinger, but he was not badly wounded.

Because of the blood that covered him, he could not fly because it weighed him down. And so, he walked back along the trail of red torches until he reached the river. And finding a shallow place, he cooled himself and rinsed off the blood from battle.

When BeeSheep was clean, and there was no more blood left on him, and his wool had dried in the sun, he flew back into the village and met once more with Endor. 

When the last shaman saw him, he was greatly amazed, for he did not think that BeeSheep would prevail against the wolf.

“I see that you have truly defeated the enemy who seeks my life,” spake Endor. “I will now use the knowledge of sorcery that you have preserved to search for your goddess, Livadi of Far Meadows.”

And so, Endor dimmed the candles in his hut, and he sat on a round woven carpet, and he took the ashes of a balsam tree, and the ashes of a red heifer. He took powdered cobalt, and powdered quartz, and he poured water through them, and made a paint. 

He poured the paint on glass made from lightning and sand.

Endor began to chant in a language that BeeSheep did not understand, and he closed his eyes. When he did this, the painted glass began to glow and show visions in the glass.

Endor opened his eyes and looked upon the visions now dwelling in the glass. “Your goddess Livadi is not in a place of knowing. Alas, I cannot tell you where exactly she is, but the glass may have given us a clue.

BeeSheep made a questioning buzz.

“Perhaps it is not for me to say, but because you have rescued me, and preserved my wisdom, I will speak it to you. The gods opened their eyes and begat the world as they saw fit, but perhaps there are other gods, and other places to which they opened their eyes and begat that we know not of.”

Endor showed him a vision in the glass, and in the vision was his goddess, Livadi. However, she did not look as he remembered. For she no longer had her divine eyes. She looked as a human looks. BeeSheep asked about the eyes.

“They are hidden from her face, friend BeeSheep.” Endor spoke. “You must find your goddess, and then you must find her eyes in order for her to return to her former glory. There will be those who seek to prevent this from happening. Beware of them.

BeeSheep buzzed his acknowledgement. He knew what he had to do, he just didn’t know exactly how to do it.

“Seek out Namtar,” Endor said. “For he is the one who weaves the threads of destiny, perhaps you can find one that will lead you to your goddess. Seek his windmill and blessed be your journey.”

Translator’s Note: This narrative shows some very interesting counters to classical writings. In Mesopotamian literature the Cedar Forest is where the gods exist and thrive. However, in this story the forest is a dark and scary place. Interesting to note is that the Digyr of Deep Forests, who is mentioned in the Origins story, is not mentioned here in this one. The red torches that are scattered throughout the story are both noticeably unusual, and also left unexplained, as if the reader is simply to understand what, “fire that burns red” is.

It also leaves a lot of questions that Endor would speak to the nature of an ancient reality and not just accept other gods, but potentially other pantheons as well. Not to mention that there may be aspects of their world created beyond their knowledge. A bold claim with very little in the way of explanation.

Another item of note would be the connection of eyes, written about in both the Origins tale, and this one. What Endor says indicates to us that the divine eyes which the Digyr used to create the world (or worlds) were not necessarily eyes by which the saw with, or perhaps a better way to put it is these eyes were not used for common visual purposes. Some BeeSheep scholars like the late Sir Richard Harrington proposed that perhaps these “Divine Eyes” were attributes of divine entities, and when confined to a mortal form, one would lose that attribute. Other scholars have argued that these eyes were more like divine or holy objects, that were in fact ancient technologies of a precursor race capable of altering reality, or our simulation of reality. I tend to agree with the latter, that if these “Divine Eyes” were hidden away, then perhaps they are divine objects that both act as a changing technology, and also a metaphor that “changes” the way one sees the world, upon using them.