“Uh, Master? Before we begin, I was wondering if I may ask you about the Mane Thief?”

“Of course, dear boy. What did you want to know?” The wolf’s sincere smile was reassuring.

Pyrrhi thought for a moment. While learning the dance routine, he only really got to hear pieces of the story from Master Markus, only the bits that were necessary for him to perform his steps.
“I guess, I don’t know much about it. Only that a mortal stole a fur clipping from Anu’Ra’s mane?” he asked.

The wolf looked lost in thought for a moment, setting the book he held in his paw down on the table.
“If my old memory serves me, I believe it was much more than that. Gerush not only stole a lock of Anu’Ra’s fiery mane, he insulted the god and subverted divine law.” He replied.

Pyrrhi lowered his ears. The little he’d heard of the tale seemed to cast the jackal in a heroic role, not as a criminal. It would have been nice to see a lesser canine portrayed heroically.

“Let’s see if I can remember how it starts. I’ve heard a few versions, mind you.” He thought for a moment before beginning, “Long ago, when the peoples were first awakening from their creation, Anu’Ra granted them Day, so that they may live by the sun’s fire. This was intended to end the strife between the peoples. Anu’Ra decreed that in exchange for the day, eating another sentient flesh was condemned as unforgivable. The peoples learned to sow crops and raise lesser beasts for the slaughter. Day was welcomed as a symbol of peace. However, even the god required rest, and the day would give way to night. Those who refused to put aside the old way would hunt in these times, hiding from the gaze of the sun lion. This was before Anu’Ra charged Badara with watching over the night.”

Pyrrhi listened intently, although he was mostly familiar with this bit. The old wolf paused for a moment to gather his thoughts, before he continued. “One mortal, a jackal named Gerush, watched as the obedient peoples were ravaged night after night by those who ignored the gods decree. He prayed to the lion, pleading for help. His prayers went unanswered. It is said that he grew bitter and hateful at the god’s apathy and viewed his silence as abandonment. Gerush believed that Anu’Ra hoarded the power of fire, so that he may maintain his lofty position as chief among the gods. So, one night, while the god slept, Gerush slipped beyond the horizon, coming upon the sleeping lion. He took up the lion’s khopesh and sliced a single lock of fire from his mane, as a mortal weapon could not do this. When the god awoke to find what had happened, he was angry. He called upon his harem of warrior wives to give chase to the mortal who had stolen a piece of divinity.”

“Why didn’t Anu’Ra answer his prayers?” the fox asked. He wasn’t really surprised the cries for help went unanswered, though justification would be nice.

“Perhaps he didn’t hear them? Perhaps he felt the obedient must learn to stand for themselves? Either way, he was angered by this mortal's audacity. His lionesses were on the jackal’s tail, but they underestimated him. He found shelter in the tallest tree. The warriors mistook the glow of his fire as starlight and passed him by. He then took the fire to the peoples, so that they may spread it throughout the land. Soon, fires dotted the realm of mortals. Anu’Ra saw this and grew even angrier. His rage scorched the land red. The river’s all dried up and crops burned.”

“Anu’Ra punished all mortals for the actions of one?” Pyrrhi asked.

“Is that so unheard of? I’m sure you’ve seen directly how collective punishment is often used to discourage dissent?” Master Akis replied. “I believe he also sought to reestablish his dominion over all.”

He was right of course. Mistress Gamila often withdrew smoking privileges from all the workers when it began to interfere with the work of only a few. Pyrrhi recalled one time in particular when he grew so sick without it that the mistress permitted him special use once or twice.

“It just seems…unfair.” The fox frowned. The words sounded stupid as soon as he’d said them. Of course it wasn’t fair. He’d learned long ago the world wasn’t fair.

“In my long life, I’ve found that fairness is a truly rare ideal.”

“What happened next?” He asked, trying to ignore the lashing of his tail.

“Well, Gerush knew he couldn’t hide from the sun god forever. But he also knew that by this point, mortals knew fire. The night peoples were kept at bay by the fires glow, and his people now held the power to protect themselves. But now, they faced a new threat. One that he was responsible for. He returned to the land of the gods and went before Anu’Ra to beg for his mercy. Gerush explained his actions, and that it was due to the god’s inaction that he broke divine law. The god cursed the jackal with immortality, then bound him in unbreakable chains. Gerush was cast to the bottom of the deepest sea, where he is to spend the rest of eternity drowning yet unable to die. Taking his revenge on the mortal, the gods' rage subsided. However, the damage to the land was complete, and that is why Miltos is the red color it is today, so the story claims. Anu’Ra then charged the huntress Badara with watching over the night, so that unforgivable acts may never go unseen again.”

The fox knew the jackal’s punishment only because of the final step of his performance, where he would be twisted and wound up in gold ribbons that represented chains by Vasha. The scene had made little sense to him before.
“Why return to face punishment? Especially that of a god?” He asked, the thought making him anxious.
“Ah, now that is an excellent question. Many interpret it as Gerush submitting to divine law. Funny, then, how the story makes a point of explaining how Badara was charged with watching over the night only after the jackal’s return. Also, relevant, though often overlooked, is when you consider that the very khopesh that Gerush used to cut the flame from the lion's mane was the weapon of the first Chief of the Gods, whom the lion himself had slain and taken as his own. But I want you to think about this. Come up with an answer for your own question, and we will discuss it next time.”
That wasn’t exactly the response Pyrrhi hoped for, but he wasn’t surprised by it. Master Akis regularly turned questions around on him, which often frustrated the fox. However, a few times he found it satisfying when he managed to come to an answer on his own which he felt satisfied his curiosity.

Pyrrhi performs a dance based on the myth of Gerush, the mane thief, a jackal mortal who stole the sun lions sword and cut a fiery lock from his mane, thereby bestowing the gift of fire to mortals. I had a lot of fun working on this piece, and like how it came out overall. Thanks for looking! Originally I had him dancing with a scimitar, but decided to change it to a khopesh, which felt a little more appropriate for the setting.