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The Marmot Herb

Folklore from the year
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Adapted from
Tscheinen, M.
Walliser Sagen (pp. 93-94)
Rarity Level
COMMON (1/1'000)

The Full Story

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In the hidden corners of the rocks, there where the shadow lingers longest, grows a herb of arcane power. The old alpinists know that it is the secret of the marmots. Before winter spreads its white shrouds over the land, the animals eat of this plant. It grants them not only nourishment but a death-like sleep that carries them safely through the icy winter until the light of spring kisses them awake again.

Once there lived a man in Zermatt whose soul was weary from the toil of days. He coveted that deep peace he saw in the animals. Driven by the longing for the great oblivion, he lay in wait. With the patience of a predator, he observed a marmot until he recognized which inconspicuous leaf served the animal as the key to the dream world.

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But the man lacked the instinct of the creature. Where the animal took only the necessary in wise frugality, the human fell victim to his boundless greed. In his ignorance, he believed a double amount would grant him double the rest. He tore the herb in tufts from the earth and devoured it until his hunger was stilled and his mind fogged. Heavy as a stone, he staggered into his barn, let himself fall into the hay, and slid into an abyss of blackness.

The seasons passed over the roof of the barn. The winter howled, the ice clinked, and finally, the sun broke through the clouds again. The man slept far beyond the time of men, trapped in a rigid paralysis. When he finally opened his eyes on St. Martin's Day, the dream had given way to a nightmare. He wanted to rise, but his body did not obey him. His belly bulged upward, monstrous and taut as a drum.

The magic herb, which grants strength in the stomach of the marmot, had become poison in the sluggish body of the man. Without the digestion of the animal and without movement, it had rotted inside him. What was supposed to bring healing brought ruin – a fermenting proof that man cannot steal the secrets of nature unpunished.

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The Relic

Deep in the core of this relic, so the story goes, slumbers the energetic essence of that mysterious herb. It is said that whoever touches the coin at the right moment before nightly rest can connect with the rhythms of nature. As a symbol for perfect regeneration, it stands for the power of deep sleep. It is said to have the ability to inspire the restorative rest of the marmot and to sharpen the sense for those sources that grant man inner balance and new life force.
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