The Sun, Arevamanouk and the Sun-Mother

Brought to despair by his misfortune, Arevamanouk reasons: if he is no longer able to hunt and take his pleasure, then let the whole world perish. He resolves that the following morning, the moment the sun rises, he will shoot it with an arrow and bring it down from the sky, so that the world may be covered in eternal black darkness.

The following morning, before sunrise, Arevamanouk stands ready with his bow and arrow, waiting for the sun. The sun has barely lifted its head when it deals Arevamanouk a mighty blazing slap across the face, seizes him by the hair with a hand of fire, lifts him up, carries him away, and sets him down on a desolate island, cursing him never to see the sun or know its light again. From that day onward, Arevamanouk sleeps through the daylight hours in a shelter shaded from the sun and wakes only at night — wandering about, scraping together a living. Years later, a woman happens upon that island, meets Arevamanouk, and marries him. In time she becomes with child. Arevamanouk writes to his parents: "I am sending you your daughter-in-law — take care of her. But do not look for me: I cannot see the sun, I cannot enter our city or our house. If I come, I shall surely die; I am cursed." Walking by night, Arevamanouk leads his wife and child to his parents' home and returns without presenting himself.

When the parents learn from their daughter-in-law what has befallen their son, they cannot bear it and wish to go and bring him back. She pleads with them not to — if they bring him, they will cause his death. Arevamanouk's wife is delivered of a son. She fashions a song from all she has endured and sings it at night when rocking the child. Arevamanouk, consumed by longing for his son, comes to the house at night and joins his voice to his wife's song from outside, telling his own story in return — but he is afraid to enter. Arevamanouk's parents notice that someone comes to the house at night and exchanges songs with their daughter-in-law. They suspect her virtue and demand an explanation. She tells them the one who comes is their son; he comes out of longing for his boy, and if they seize him and bring him inside, he will die.

Arevamanouk's parents do not believe her. One night, when they hear a voice outside, they go out, seize him — and find it is indeed their son. Arevamanouk pleads with his parents:

"Release me," he says. "Let me go. If I am not in my shelter when the sun rises, I shall die. Give me back my sun — I am cursed, please, let me go..."

The parents do not heed their son and will not release him. In the morning, when the sun rises, the son collapses half-dead before his father and mother. They comfort themselves with the hope that come evening, when the sun sets, their son will revive. But when evening comes, Arevamanouk remains half-dead still. The parents raise cries of grief and lamentation, beat their heads, repent, and mourn for days on end.

One day, in a dream, Arevamanouk's mother is told:

"Rise, put on iron sandals, take an iron staff, and walk westward. Where your sandals wear through and your staff breaks — there you will find the cure for your son."

Tormented by grief and longing for her son, the mother rises early in the morning and without hesitation has iron sandals and a staff made, puts them on, and sets out on the road. For years she walks on, passing through the lands of dark peoples and fair, until she reaches the very edge of the world, where there are no birds and no beasts. In the distance she catches sight of a palace built of blue marble and makes straight for it. At the gate, the staff slips from her hand and breaks. She takes off her sandals to shake out the dust and sees they have worn clean through. She remembers her dream — here she is to find her son's salvation. She enters the courtyard, passes through twelve courts, and reaches the pavilion in whose corner, bathed in light, sits the radiant queen — the Sun-Mother. Arevamanouk's mother is struck dumb by the queen's beauty, her eyes frozen wide with wonder.

"You must surely have come with some trouble," the Sun-Mother says gently, "to have suffered so much and found your way here. Tell me your sorrow — do not be afraid."

"I am a mother," says the woman. "I have come to ask for a remedy to give my son back his sun."

And she recounts, one by one, all that has happened to Arevamanouk.

"Your son is a wicked son," says the Sun-Mother. "I, too, am a mother — the mother of the sun; by my son's light heaven and earth are lit, and your son wished to strike him with an arrow. Your son is accursed and must remain without sunlight: to live and yet not live, to die and yet not die."

"I am a mother," Arevamanouk's mother says again. "I have suffered for my son; I have walked so many roads out of love for him. For the sake of your son's light, tell me how to heal mine."

The heart of the Sun-Mother is moved, and she says:

"Many an unworthy son has known the light only through his mother's love. Let your son also live for his mother's sake. Now go behind those stars and hide — my son will come soon; make sure he does not see you. When he enters the pool and bathes and comes out to nurse at my breast — while I am nursing him, take a bottle of water from his bathing pool and go. Take it home, sprinkle it over your son, and he will be healed."

Arevamanouk's mother does exactly that: she takes a bottle of water from the sun's bathing pool, leaves the palace, makes her way safely home, sprinkles the water over her son — and he recovers and rises to his feet.