The Tale of Hérazhahívo

Glory be to the Dawn-Bringer, for He is so great, granting us with beautiful sunrises! Glory be to the Sower, for He is so virile, spreading His seed over all He sees! Glory be to Hérazhahívo, God of Humidity and the Dawn! Today is His holy day and we must all honor Him!

Since it's His holy day, He's probably feeling a bit friskier than normal; young women should not go out alone. . .





When Sívorí, Goddess of Stars, gave birth to Hérazhahívo, She took one look at His lion-headed, yellow-skinned alligator body and tossed Him out of Her home in disgust. Sívorí’s husband Néhété, God of Smoke, chastised Her, for She had the body of a human being and the head of a black heron, while Néhété Himself had the head of a fly and the body of a rat, so Who was She to complain? Unpersuaded, Sívorí stormed off and danced by Herself in a distant corner of the universe.

Needing a good home for His newborn son, Néhété took Hérazhahívo to a group of demigods and demigoddesses known as the Séhalas, Who lived deep in the forest. Many of the Séhalas had hind legs and horns like goats, so They knew much about nature and the ways of the universe. The Séhalas gladly accepted the responsibility of raising Hérazhahívo and assured Néhété that They would teach Him well.

The Séhalas did indeed care well for Hérazhahívo and teach Him all the knowledge They had to give. When He became old enough, They welcomed Hérazhahívo to Their nightly festivities, which often transformed into orgies deep into the dark hours. Despite all the sexual energy around Him, Hérazhahívo discovered that He could not get aroused. Numerous Séhala demigoddesses were sorely disappointed. Hérazhahívo also was disappointed, and so He sat at the edge of the forest clearing, glumly watching the fun.

Oftentimes, other gods would be invited to join the merriment. In this way, Hérazhahívo met Píríuso, God of the Sun. Late into the night, the golden sun god staggered away from the orgy and collapsed near Hérazhahívo. Despite Píríuso being sexually drained, as well as drunk, the two gods had a lengthy conversation about items sundry, including Píríuso’s duties as the sun god. Eventually, Hérazhahívo realized that the sun should have risen already, and yet the sky was black. He told this to Píríuso, Who immediately jerked awake, frantically searching around and about the orgiastic Séhalas for all His clothing and belongs.

Thinking quickly, Hérazhahívo raced a Séhala chariot ahead of Píríuso to the sun god’s stables far beyond the Eastern Ocean. Once there, Hérazhahívo threw open the gates to the sky, making way for Píríuso’s golden chariot. While Píríuso hastily assembled His team of horses for the daily journey, Hérazhahívo grabbed a fistful of fire from a nearby hearth and, grabbing a passing seagull, rose up from the ocean to shed light on the world’s new day. Shortly after Hérazhahívo’s dawn, Píríuso pulled the sun above the horizon, starting the day with brilliant rays of pure sunlight.

Píríuso thanked His new friend as He rode by. From that day forward, Hérazhahívo would open the gates for the sun god and announce His imminent arrival by carrying the first rosy reaches of light into the morning sky. To aid His lofty flight, Hérazhahívo grew a giant pair of wings with pure white feathers. Each dawn, Hérazhahívo floats above us, granting the day’s first light to all.

In the evenings, Hérazhahívo would return to the Séhalas, for They were His true family, but He remained morose during Their festivities, since He was still inadequately virile. One day, though, Hérazhahívo spied a young mortal woman walking through the woods. He instantly fell in love. He approached Her and asked her name, to which she introduced herself as Tíhutozhí. He told her His name with a most chivalrous greeting, to which Tíhutozhí flashed a beautiful smile. Instantly, Hérazhahívo’s manhood enlarged to magnificent proportions, nearly hitting the young woman in the face. Tíhutozhí shrieked and ran away.

Quite distraught and apologetic, Hérazhahívo called out to Tíhutozhí and started to chase after her. Unfortunately, with His enormous phallus, Hérazhahívo could hardly move. Tíhutozhí disappeared from His sight, hidden by the trees. Several Séhalas heard Hérazhahívo’s cries and came running to aid Him, but when They saw His gigantic manhood, even the sexually experienced demigoddesses fled in fright, too. The Séhala demigods chased after Their female counterparts, hungry with lust.

All alone in the forest, with only His immobilizing phallus for company, Hérazhahívo roared in distress. He had found His one true love, but had scared her away. Worse still, sunrise was approaching and He wouldn’t be able to get to Píríuso’s stables in time to start the dawn. Hérazhahívo strained and strained, flapping His wings, trying to get off the ground, but His feet remained stubbornly stuck to the forest floor. His phallus was too heavy.

Abruptly, Hérazhahívo separated into two bodies: one with a lion’s head, yellow alligator body, and enormous manhood; and one with white wings and a more elegant form, draped in a saffron robe. Being a god, He was quickly able to handle being two places at once. While His phallus-laden body waddled back toward the Séhala camp, His winged form flew on the pre-dawn breeze across the Eastern Ocean. He opened Píríuso’s gate with His new, rosy-tipped fingers and carried the dawn high into the sky, announcing to all the world the approaching sun god.

After the sun rose, Hérazhahívo flew across the land in search of Tíhutozhí. He was aching to find His one true love, but she was nowhere to be seen. Becoming increasingly crazed by His new sexual energy, Hérazhahívo resorted to snatching up other young women in the forest and fields and bringing them to His land-bound body. The same thing happened every time, however: as soon as a woman got within sight of His gargantuan phallus, she’d scream uncontrollably and run as fast as she could away from Him. Only through physical force with both His bodies could Hérazhahívo keep a woman near Him long enough to satisfy His vast desire. Sadly, once He let go, no amount of persuasion would get a woman to stay.

With a lion’s roar of agony, Hérazhahívo began to cry. He cried until His lion eyes ran out of tears, and then He cried from His winged body’s eyes. As He climbed into the sky the next morning, Hérazhahívo’s tears spread across the land, covering the world in its morning dew. To this day, He continues to cry, and so the dew falls.

One morning as He flew above the world, Hérazhahívo spotted Tíhutozhí. He blinked the tears from His eyes, not believing what He saw, but it was her. He flew down and, before He introduced Himself again, she said His name, recognizing Him. She said she regretted running away and that she loved Him dearly. There was one problem, however: Tíhutozhí was mortal and thus would die long before Hérazhahívo. Hérazhahívo did not have the power to make her immortal, and so He asked Sozho, High God of Air and King of the Gods, for help. Sozho granted their wish, for He recognized true love, and gave Tíhutozhí the gift of everlasting life. Hérazhahívo and Tíhutozhí thanked Sozho profusely and never left each other’s side -- Tíhutozhí even became used to the sight of Hérazhahívo’s huge manhood.

Several years later, They noticed a problem: while Tíhutozhí wasn’t dying, She was still aging. Her skin sagged and wrinkled; Her frame stooped; Her hair turned white and thin. Hérazhahívo flew to Sozho and demanded answers. Sozho reminded Him that He had asked for eternal life, not eternal youth. Frustrated, Hérazhahívo transformed Tíhutozhí into a cicada so She would never have to be old and frail. In Her insect form, Tíhutozhí sticks to Hérazhahívo’s immobile body, forever together, forever in love.

Nevertheless, the loss of Tíhutozhí’s youth and beauty caused Hérazhahívo to cry even harder than before. His tears brought moisture to the air, keeping all the land He visited fresh and fertile. When the cicada Tíhutozhí fluttered Her legs on His phallus, Hérazhahívo spread His seed upon the land, making the crops fruitful. With Him, the harvest was bountiful. In the land He avoided, there was no harvest to speak of.

Hérazhahívo frequented the kingdom of Rénaka, and their crops were plentiful. His sister Rakazhazhíní, Goddess of Clean Air, did not appreciate the attention that Hérazhahívo was generating there, however. In retaliation, She soaked up His tears and seed with Her swan feathers and, having no comparable phallic fluids, tried to replace them with merely lachrymal offerings of Her own making. Sadly, She was unable to provide adequately, but sopped up Hérazhahívo’s gifts nevertheless. The kingdom of Rénaka suffered drought and famine like never before.

Hérazhahívo roared His disapproval and left Rénaka for the nearby island of Nésíkozho, which became fertile under His care. The king of Rénaka led His people to Nésíkozho, where they prospered. The few who remained behind in Rénaka under Rakazhazhíní’s care starved and perished. All the Nésíkozhoans praised and honored Hérazhahívo for His beneficence.

We should all praise and honor Hérazhahívo. He gives us the moisture and fertility that we need to survive. He brings us the beautiful light of dawn, announcing the coming day. Every harvest we reap, we must honor the Sower with gifts from the bounty. Every morning we rise, we must praise the Dawn-Bringer for another glorious day of life. But beware where you stray, for a wandering woman may attract His boundless desire and never again see her home and family!