nations
As described in Indian and Persian mythology, the battle of the heavens, the celestial war, manifested itself in a bewildering array of forms and characters. Even a cursory glance at Angelo de Gubernatis's Animal Mythology (Chapter V), whose succinct summary reveals a dizzying array of characters, settings, and approaches. This narrative explosion is a veritable treasure trove of images in which we can trace the roots of many of the dragon-related stories that emerged centuries later. These stories, with their themes of guarding treasure, abducting women, and grotesque monsters, are all intricately woven into the fabric of the sky war narrative. But at the heart of this fantastic tapestry is a simple yet profound reality: the vital importance of weather and the preciousness of rain in a land scorched by the sun's relentless heat. Superstition ran so deep that people with malicious intent were believed to be able to assume the nature and roles of these chaotic celestial agents. The Si-Yu-Ki (translated by Beale), a seventh-century Chinese traveler by the famous Hiuen Tsang, tells the story of a shepherd who provided milk and cream for a king. On one occasion, he failed to fulfill his usual promises and was rebuked. Filled with resentment, he prayed desperately, "May I become a destructive dragon!" His prayer was answered and he retreated to a cave, plotting havoc on the land. However, the compassionate Tathagata was moved by pity and traveled a long way to reason with the newly transformed dragon, convincing him to mend his ways. The benevolent deity then took up residence in the cave, ensuring that the dragon's destructive impulses were kept in check. The incident we have just explored gives us a glimpse into the subtle interaction between Buddhist teachings and pre-existing Brahmanical beliefs. However, this encounter was only one stroke in a larger picture of cultural dynamics. Another striking illustration gleaned from Buddhist history books illustrates how the gentle philosophy of the Buddha softened the vehemence of Brahmanical teachings, especially in the fertile valley of the Indus River, where the seeds of Buddhism first took root in India. In 400 AD, the respected Chinese traveler Fahuan traveled to this fertile land and recorded his observations of a remarkable community of Buddhist monks and nuns.
Dharmahuan's account vividly depicts the unique and harmonious relationship between the Buddhist community and the natural world. A powerful white-eared dragon, revered as the protector of this sacred site, was believed to orchestrate the life-giving rains and protect the land from plague and disaster. In gratitude for these divine blessings, priests built a dedicated dragon chapel, offering their celestial patron a resting place and offerings of food. At the end of each monsoon season, the dragon would appear in the form of a small snake, its ears adorned with striking white fringe. Recognizing their divine protector, the monks would ceremoniously place a copper vessel filled with cream in the dragon's lair as a sign of reverence. With a graceful glide and a gleam of scales, the dragon would disappear, only to reappear with the next monsoon season, a testament to the enduring connection between man and deity. Our journey to India has provided us with valuable insights, but now let's return to the path we took. The Persian Azhi, or Ashi Dahaka, is a figure shrouded in myth and legend.
Asti IX describes this monstrous entity as a "demon-like serpent, three-jawed, three-headed, six-eyed, possessing a thousand powers and immense strength". The creature was identified with the "Demon of Lies" of the Dawas, an evil force that threatened the very foundations of our settlement. It was said that Angra Mainyu, the embodiment of evil, created this monster. The famous scholar Darmesteter attributes the origin of the myth of Azhi to the southern shore of the Caspian Sea. He believes that Azhi represents the "serpent" of the storm clouds, corresponding to the Vedic Ahi or Vritra, which is associated with destructive storms and chaos. This interpretation is further supported in Asti XIX, where Azhi is depicted in a fierce struggle with the god of fire, Attar, in the turbulent waters of the Volukhasha. The conflict between Azhi and "Shining Imah" Imah Heshaeta initially had similar mythological features. Imah, like his Vedic counterpart, was a solar hero, representing the rays of the sun. However, as Ichima's character evolved and he became a secular king, Azhi also underwent a corresponding transformation. He became the embodiment of all those who opposed Iran, first the hated Chaldeans and later the Arabs who cruelly persecuted the Zoroastrians. A fascinating poem by Firdausi tells the legend of Azhi in the human form of Zohak. In this story, Ahriman, the embodiment of evil, disguises himself and kisses Zohak on the shoulder, a gesture that unleashes poisonous snakes upon the world. These insatiable, merciless snakes must constantly be devoured by human brains. Despite his immense power, Zohak is eventually captured and chained to a rock, where he dies under the merciless rays of the sun. The story emphasizes its profound symbolism. Fire, the ultimate force of purification and light, is the unwavering enemy of these "demon-like" snakes, who embody the forces of darkness and water.
^ _ ^Just as Azhi is ultimately powerless against the god of light, Ormuzd, these snakes are unable to withstand the purifying rays of the sun. This eternal struggle between light and darkness, creation and destruction, forms the core of the Zoroastrian worldview and provides a framework for understanding the complexity of good and evil in the world. The earliest written records of Aryan philosophy and imagery reveal a unique set of beliefs and ideas about dragons. These ideas were deeply embedded in their collective consciousness and passed down from generation to generation, cherished and trusted when these simple and poetic people migrated from their northern homeland. Driven by an insatiable thirst for conquest and a desire for new settlements, they ventured southwards to become conquerors and colonizers in Iran and India. However, this migration did not erase the lasting legacy of their ancestral beliefs. As we delve deeper into the chronicles of modern Persian history and literature, we encounter fascinating stories that testify to the extraordinary survival of these ancient ideas. Infused with the spirit of our ancestors, these stories offer a glimpse into the enduring power of tradition and the continuing influence of the past on the present. In 1821, Sir William Owsley published a fascinating account of his journey to Persia in London, painting a vivid picture of Farhend, a once-majestic castle near Shiraz. Named after its builder, the legendary King Ormuz (or Hormuz), this mighty stronghold bears witness to a turbulent past. Rumor has it that the prince boldly rebelled against his brother, the reigning monarch. With the support of the influential Sassanid family, he controlled the Fars region of Persia long before the city of Shiraz was founded in the 7th century. A silent witness to the rise and fall of time, the castle has undergone countless destructions and restorations. Its weathered walls echo the whispers of ancient stories that have been passed down from generation to generation. Legend has it that within its crumbling depths lie hidden treasures - royal weapons, magnificent jewels and untold wealth carefully hidden by ancient kings. These precious artifacts are said to be protected by a powerful amulet, a mysterious object imbued with powerful magical powers. However, the story does not end there. Folklore adds another layer of intrigue to the mystery surrounding Farhend. It is said that a fearsome dragon, or perhaps a winged serpent, is an additional guardian of these coveted treasures. This mythical creature, forever chained to his post, guards a wealth it cannot possess, its heart consumed by an insatiable greed for gold. Its image evokes the legendary griffins of ancient legends, fearsome beasts that engaged in fierce battles with the Arimaspians, a mythical tribe known for their one eye and insatiable greed for gold.
The term "Arimaspian" seems to have been a name used by settled Persian populations to refer to nomadic tribes that inhabited the plains and mountains of the west. Centuries before the advent of our era, these tribes in what we now know as Kurdistan began a series of sweeping waves of migrations due to the relentless drought of their ancestral pastures. Their journey westwards brought them to the steppes of southern Russia, where they left their mark on history. Among these nomads, the first to become a distinct people were the Cimmerians. Their path to their final homeland north of the Sea of Azov probably required a perilous trek through Armenia and the Caucasus Mountains. The Cimmerians' domination lasted for a while, but they were eventually replaced by the Scythians. The Scythians were known for their strong military power and nomadic lifestyle, and they established a large sphere of influence in the steppes. However, even the Scythians could not escape the wheel of history, and they themselves faced a similar fate. Some Scythians may have been expelled by more powerful tribes or nations and forced to migrate to other places to find new living space; while others merged with other ethnic groups and gradually lost their original independence and cultural characteristics. Among them, the Sarmatians became one of the main challengers to the Scythians.
The Sarmatians had similar nomadic traditions to the Scythians, but they had more advanced military technology and organizational capabilities. After a series of fierce conflicts and competitions, the Sarmatians successfully drove the Scythians out of part of their territory and had a profound impact on them. Some Scythians may choose to confront the Sarmatians in an attempt to defend their land and rights; while others chose to cooperate with the Sarmatians or integrate into Sarmatian society, gradually losing their unique identity. In addition, there is a possibility that the Scythians came into contact and exchange with other neighboring ethnic groups, leading to their absorption and assimilation. This situation was not uncommon among ancient nations. The mutual integration of different cultures and nations often produced new social forms and cultural characteristics. As time went on, the existence of the Scythians gradually became blurred, and their names and culture gradually faded from people's memory. Instead, new nations and political entities emerged, continuing to shape the historical pattern of the European continent.