Tuesday, January 3, 2012

Mohcu-Lar - the Seer of Souls

(The following story came to me while sleeping and I was pondering the source of an interpretive power that some seem to have.)

Long ago when the world was covered in white lived a mammoth hunter. This hunter had a special gift of being able to read the souls of the animals he hunted. When stalking a herd he could pick the most vulnerable animal to pursue. When facing a predator of men he could read the intensity of heart in the lion or tiger. He called himself Moh and was alone among men of his kind, for he ran with another race of ape-like men, but his skills in soul reading set him apart from the race of ape-men that soon died out as a race altogether.

A few hundred generations later, after the world had thawed but before the time of chiefs, lived a woman in the great prairies of land who had descended from Moh, the first man. She also had the gift of soul reading. This was the time and place when horses first learned to be ridden on those great steppes in Europe. Sheep and goat were also tamed and fed upon for meat. These humans were few and far between but would sometimes find and capture other humans and would bring them to this woman who would then read their souls to determine if those captured should be killed or brought into the wandering tribes. Some captured were healthy and flexible so that their souls could be trusted by all. Some captured were compliant on the outside, but bitter and venomous deeper within such that only the soul reader woman could tell for sure. This woman had twelve male children who all had her same gift. In her old age she had a thirteenth male child that was stronger in this gift than all who had come before him. His name was Moh-Cur.

Moh-Cur's gift for soul reading was so great it was said that he could touch a man and know when he would die and tell if his death would be glorious or sorrowful. When looking into the eyes of a man, Moh-Cur could see the very depths of a soul and see the ancestors souls that had come before. Moh-Cur was greatly feared by his brothers. These twelve brothers plus Moh-Cur tamed horses and had generations of children and children's children, such that they populated an entire continent. This was back in the time where all men spoke one language before the pyramids and before the great river valley civilizations in what is now known as the Middle-East, India and Egypt.

It was during the Babylonian empire that a sorcerer arose with the same powers of strength of soul reading of Moh-Cur, a distant ancestor from back in the days before men grew their own food. This sorcerer was the grand priest of the people and bowed only to the king himself. The king consulted him in all matters of mysteries concerning men known and unknown both dead and living. It is said that this man bore three sons and a daughter through  a particular priestess name Wo-Moh that in some distant past had descended from Moh like all known peoples at the time. The sorcerer's name was Mohcu-Lar.

Mohcu-Lar eventually died at a very old age. His three sons were instructed by there priestess mother in the proper way to inherit Mohcu-Lar's powers. After laying him on the burning pier, the oldest son sliced into the chest cavity of the father and after breaking away one rib they were able to gain access to his heart whereby they removed it. Once removed they were each instructed to consume the equal sections of the heart.

Legend has it that the first son-- who was a proud and wicked man-- after his consumption stood tall, stiffened, and immediately fell backwards dead. The middle son, after his consumption, immediately began chattering  his teeth while his eyeballs rolled to and fro, and his tongue started twitching side to side. He lived the rest of his days as a priest in constant chatter coupled with stutterings such that none could stand to be in his presence for more than a moment or two. The third son, for fear of the maladies inflicted upon his brothers, refused to eat his father's heart and died a shriveled old man many years later and soon forgotten.

It was the daughter that partook of the heart that the last brother did not eat. It was said her eyes lit up like fire, her hair turned permanently red and she seemed to levitate when she walked the rest of her life.

It was the sorcerer Mohcu-Lar that came to me in a dream and showed me his story and the story to follow.

(There is more, but this was all the story I typed up when I arose from my bed that morning.)