One aspect of life common to all the peoples of the Bôzisha-Mîraz had been their religion. A mythic cult bound land, people and gods together in a system of belief observed, to greater or lesser degrees, by all classes and groups. The faith comprised not only a creation myth but a code of law and of honor that covered every aspect of life in the Desert Country. All of this derived from a single saga, the Kât‑Polozây, which the region’s enchanters sung.
The epic’s name signified “the story of the land.” It was a tale of sorrow and heroism and, finally, a tale of hope. Its roots were thought to lie in the older tale of the Sun and Moon, probably learned from the Elves of Irdori, though other unknown influences had altered it. What follows is an abridgement of the poem as told to children; the full work ran to well over two thousand lines and was accompanied by shorter tales and parables for moral instruction.
Introduction[]
The version here was the shortened Kât‑Polozây taught to the young. It presented the poem’s principal outline and was supplemented in common use by many shorter tales and exempla drawn from the longer song.
The tale[]
In former days, when gods walked the earth in bodies of flesh and lived as men, they dwelt in a great city high in the southern mountains. The deities ruled over parcels of the world they had made, with men and beasts as their servants. They did as they willed, each according to his nature. Their works were many and marvellous, and even the lowliest servants lived in comfort and adorned themselves in finery unknown in later, lesser times.
Mighty among the gods was Vâtra, whose countenance was the sun. He ruled a land to the North, whose peoples were raised as mighty warriors. In the City of the Gods he became enamoured of a princess, the daughter of the Windlord and king of the deities. The daughter’s name was Ladnóca; she was the moon. The king, Nâdi-manyê, gave his blessing to the match.
Vâtra, however, desired more than the princess’s hand. Soon after the marriage he led a host of lesser gods, from whom he had gained allegiance, to the high palace of Nâdi‑manyê. The battle that followed rocked the world. Mortals were stricken with terror and fell as the earth shook about them. The gods fought for twenty days without pause. Swords of jagged lightning flashed in the sky and the thunder of their blows was constant.
When silence returned, Men looked to the mountain and saw that the city was no more. The combat had destroyed it and the gods themselves had been torn from the physical world by the forces they had unleashed. Their spirits withdrew beyond the sky and appeared to Men as points of light sprinkled in the darkness. Among these lights two shone greater than the rest: Vâtra and Ladnóca. In the awesome conflict the King had been struck down. In the moment of his triumph Vâtra perceived his adversary’s energy gather about the Princess. Her station as wife of Vâtra had denied her the right to stand with her father in battle, but as his heir she found herself possessed of power nearly equal to his when the smoke cleared.
In the new order among the deities Vâtra held the greater power and Ladnóca the second. Yet, bereft of bodies, the gods could no longer be coerced by the force Vâtra had won. Those who had stood with him saw the ruin his war had wrought and forsook their allegiance. The gods shrank from him and shunned his light, turning instead to the daughter of the Windlord for guidance. The glow that flowed from her was kinder, and they rejoiced in the freedom of the outer sky, basking in her light.
Ladnóca could not share that joy wholly. Bound as wife to Vâtra, she remained obliged to tend his needs as wives did among men. From that time she divided herself between service to her husband and communion with her kin.
Thus the life of the gods persisted. Men who were bound to the soil saw proof of the tale in the motions of the celestial bodies. As the moon travelled the day‑sky her light was dimmed in the presence of Vâtra; when she moved among the stars that had made her their queen she shone brightly.
In this tale the Bôzisha‑Mîraz held a special place. At the time of the marriage the Windlord had offered a dowry as was custom: the loveliest lands were his to give, and the most beautiful he gave to his daughter. That land was the country now known as Rây. After slaying her father, Vâtra was despised by Ladnóca. Though she could not betray her vows, she spared no zeal in the discharge of her duties. Vâtra grew furious and, since he could not harm her, turned against that which she loved most: the land of her dowry. With his fearsome face he burned it and burned it still, leaving drought and heat where once all had been lush and surpassingly fair.
Only a small region could the goddess save. That portion was her gift to the people, the land called Rây. From the Sûza Sûmar, where her tears fell, to the eastern reaches of the Hills of the Moon, she tempered her husband’s damage. She drew water to cool the earth and so brought life to her people. For this gift they owed her an immeasurable debt. The tale of the greatest hero, Iunást, was told as the exemplar of service by which men strove to repay that debt; his life was the pattern that all should emulate.
Main overview: Domain of the Lidless Eye Portal
References[]
- MERP:Far Harad - The Scorched Land
Editorial Note: This article may contain speculative material based on secondary or tertiary sources such as pen-and-paper role-playing content, video games, or fanon publications. Interpretations are part of the NNCA’s speculative corpus and may not reflect canonical sources. References may exist but have not yet been verified or cited.