second later with a mandolin in his hand.
Aw! That's perfect! So old and bardic.
Sitting facing me he averts his glance to the strings, plucking a medieval sounding tune, singing to me;
“The maneating giant
what an ogre he was
He preyed on humans
right to his last
With his heart in his heel
he was easy to fell
Young Tlingit warrior fooled him
but there's much more to tell
With his last words
a curse he did say
He'd never stop eating humans
not even on his dying day
The ash of his body
burned black in the fire
Swarmed as mosquitoes
and his slayer did devour.”
He mutes the vibrato of the strings, looking shyly up at me with a faint smile tuning his mouth falcate.
Sitting forward, my hands clasped in restrained excitement, I beseech him, “Another one!”
“You sure? I'm no bard and don't do the calling justice.”
“ Please?” I wheedle, desperate to hear that incredible voice caress my blood with the magic of his timbre in song. He sings like he was born to serenade.
“ Okay...” He clears his throat, skewering the shadows in the corners of the cavern with concentration. Clearly deciding on a new tune he focuses on the strings again, holding the instrument with the lightest fingers.
“ Old father Odin owned the trinity
Three purses, for him, you, and me
One for the moon, the stars, the sun
Odin's daughter grew pregnant with a son
Raven she'd swallowed from the well of water
Didn't know He was in her belly, not a daughter
Raven needed the sun, stars and moon, free
And found a cunning way for this to be
Odin loved his grandson far more than his treasure
Babe cried for the stars, his tears without measure
Gifted the purse, Raven opened and set free every star
Up the chimney they escaped to sparkle from afar
Cleverer than Old Odin, Raven wailed for the next
Bawling until grandfather gave the moon to his chest
With Odin's back turned Raven rolled the moon out the door
Then pointed for the sun purse, wailing for the final adore
Old Man grandfather resisted as long as he could
Finally giving in after shutting chimney and wood
Raven waited until all were asleep
Changed back into bird and out the window did creep
With the sun in his beak he brought it to his clan to reveal
No more could the greedy own the light, for he did it steal
Freeing us all from the god's enforced dark he freed it to fly
The sun escaped to light the sky, this is Raven's lullaby.”
“Oh my god! What an awesome story!” I whisper, grinning like a child rapt in the imagination of a forgotten past.
He nods at me as if in reverent acknowledgment, putting the mandolin aside. “These are T'ach'aa stories that belong to the Tlingit in this region. They are stories they tell their children so they'll never forget the evil giants, why we still kill mosquitoes, and how once the light was a commodity the gods thought they could own. Stealing light from anyone is a spiritual offense, it's that simple. But then again mosquito clouds look like shadows swarming, the giant became shadow and killed the man who tried to kill him.”
His left eye is phosphorescent in the dark and it's strangely comforting seeing that inner light now. Wow! The Raven clan rock!
“ Did Odin really keep the stars and stuff tied up?” I ask, my body still vibrating from his voice as if I'm a resonating pitch fork.
“ The Tlingit call him Old Man. It fits any demographic as the first father of people. The gods had ego issues, that's no secret in any ancient lore. Raven's quest is to outwit all foe who wish to inflict misery. We keep to ourselves now because mankind has become as black as the dark the gods forced on them.”
“ They're not so bad–”
“ Yes they are. They pollute, they judge, the world is a slave to money and the entire concept of money lending started with a church born organization. The people on this planet willingly choose subservience and misery over freedom because they
Aw! That's perfect! So old and bardic.
Sitting facing me he averts his glance to the strings, plucking a medieval sounding tune, singing to me;
“The maneating giant
what an ogre he was
He preyed on humans
right to his last
With his heart in his heel
he was easy to fell
Young Tlingit warrior fooled him
but there's much more to tell
With his last words
a curse he did say
He'd never stop eating humans
not even on his dying day
The ash of his body
burned black in the fire
Swarmed as mosquitoes
and his slayer did devour.”
He mutes the vibrato of the strings, looking shyly up at me with a faint smile tuning his mouth falcate.
Sitting forward, my hands clasped in restrained excitement, I beseech him, “Another one!”
“You sure? I'm no bard and don't do the calling justice.”
“ Please?” I wheedle, desperate to hear that incredible voice caress my blood with the magic of his timbre in song. He sings like he was born to serenade.
“ Okay...” He clears his throat, skewering the shadows in the corners of the cavern with concentration. Clearly deciding on a new tune he focuses on the strings again, holding the instrument with the lightest fingers.
“ Old father Odin owned the trinity
Three purses, for him, you, and me
One for the moon, the stars, the sun
Odin's daughter grew pregnant with a son
Raven she'd swallowed from the well of water
Didn't know He was in her belly, not a daughter
Raven needed the sun, stars and moon, free
And found a cunning way for this to be
Odin loved his grandson far more than his treasure
Babe cried for the stars, his tears without measure
Gifted the purse, Raven opened and set free every star
Up the chimney they escaped to sparkle from afar
Cleverer than Old Odin, Raven wailed for the next
Bawling until grandfather gave the moon to his chest
With Odin's back turned Raven rolled the moon out the door
Then pointed for the sun purse, wailing for the final adore
Old Man grandfather resisted as long as he could
Finally giving in after shutting chimney and wood
Raven waited until all were asleep
Changed back into bird and out the window did creep
With the sun in his beak he brought it to his clan to reveal
No more could the greedy own the light, for he did it steal
Freeing us all from the god's enforced dark he freed it to fly
The sun escaped to light the sky, this is Raven's lullaby.”
“Oh my god! What an awesome story!” I whisper, grinning like a child rapt in the imagination of a forgotten past.
He nods at me as if in reverent acknowledgment, putting the mandolin aside. “These are T'ach'aa stories that belong to the Tlingit in this region. They are stories they tell their children so they'll never forget the evil giants, why we still kill mosquitoes, and how once the light was a commodity the gods thought they could own. Stealing light from anyone is a spiritual offense, it's that simple. But then again mosquito clouds look like shadows swarming, the giant became shadow and killed the man who tried to kill him.”
His left eye is phosphorescent in the dark and it's strangely comforting seeing that inner light now. Wow! The Raven clan rock!
“ Did Odin really keep the stars and stuff tied up?” I ask, my body still vibrating from his voice as if I'm a resonating pitch fork.
“ The Tlingit call him Old Man. It fits any demographic as the first father of people. The gods had ego issues, that's no secret in any ancient lore. Raven's quest is to outwit all foe who wish to inflict misery. We keep to ourselves now because mankind has become as black as the dark the gods forced on them.”
“ They're not so bad–”
“ Yes they are. They pollute, they judge, the world is a slave to money and the entire concept of money lending started with a church born organization. The people on this planet willingly choose subservience and misery over freedom because they
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