Day the First: A basic introduction of the deity.

Herne the Hunter is an old British Deity, often associate with Cernunnos and Pan, mainly due to the antlers. They are all very different individuals.

He was once a Hunter of King Richard II’s court. He was beloved by the King for his ability to always bring home game, and certainly to ensure a day of decent hunt – sorry, “exciting” hunt. Herne is correcting me.

It may have been late in the day, but it was there.

He honoured his King so much that one day he stepped infront of a charging white stag as it came towards the King. It’s antlers made contact with Herne’s abdominen as Herne’s sword entered the Stag’s heart.

Bleeding on the forest floor, a Wise Man just happened to be in the area and told them that he could save Herne, provided the stag’s head and antlers were placed on Herne’s until he is well.

Never listen to a wise man. Or at least ask for the fine print.

It wasn’t known at the time, but this meant that Herne’s much loved abilities had been traded for his life. He could no longer find game in the forest, but the King didn’t give up on him. The other men of the hunting party had had enough, so they secretly went out at night and killed, leaving the furs and skins in Herne’s chambers.

Assholes.

These were eventually found by the King, who ordered Herne be stripped of title and land, and banished from the kingdom.

He was found the next day, hanging from an Oak in Windsor Forest.

In death, he lived on. There was no rest for me in death. He was pissed, and vengeful. One by one the men of the hunting party came to the Oak, and joined him. In death they rode horses black as night, with hounds by their sides with eyes of red. So the stories say, Herne laughed.

Fast forward to now. He’s less vengeful, accepted that he has become who he has become, but I still miss my wife and child, and I still miss that life.

I am honoured to have met him, worked with him, and I am honoured to be his Daughter.