Crypt Of The Cathedral Of Anagni, 12th Century

Fairy tower

Thralls of Skuld - Prologue

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 "Long is the way, 

long must thou wander, 

But long is love as well; 

Thou mayst find, perchance, 

what thou fain wouldst have. 

If Skuld her favor will give.

- Verse 4 of Grougaldr (Groa’s Spell) from Svipsdagsmol in The Poetic Edda

The fates of all living things were utterly and hopelessly implacable. The only thing within the control of mortals was how they lived through their destiny and met the death that had been spun for them. The Norns, named Uðr, Veðrandi and Skuld, weaved the Web of Wyrd, the very fabric of all that had been, all that was now, and all that would come to be. In Midgard, the mortals knew it was no use trying to appease the Norns, whose web was absolute. That was why the Norns were not worshipped like the Æsir and the Vanir, who could change the outcomes of wars, shorten the merciless winters, and decide the yield of the harvests. The Norn’s just were - and so was fate. All of this was well known.

Eira did not agree with that in the least.

She had been there the day Ulf's children had been taken by the nøkke. The screams that cut through the damp pine forest that day still rang in her ears sometimes. It had sat in her throat for months. A lump, threatening to well up and flow over at the slightest encouragement. Sometimes the dull greyness of the sky, like the one that had watched them that day, was enough to make her chest catch with terror and the tears well up in her eyes. Looking at Ulf was the worst. She barely could, for so long, when the grimness of death had still been painted on his face, dragging down his shoulders. If the shame and desperation she felt in her heart for what had happened was anything to go by, Ulf must have been a shell of a man in those months.

She was not sure if she had seen it out of the corner of her eyes or not. Years later, when she could not sleep, she vividly imagined how the monster, in the shape of an enticing white horse, had egged on the children, whinnying and inviting, until they had grabbed its tail in playfulness.

When she turned to look, both children were being pulled forcefully from the rivershore into the murky waters by that invisible string. She had sprinted the few steps until she reached the shore, looking desperately into the waters. They had been playing on the rocks just behind a gorge, where the current of the river was roaring and fast. The children had been gone even before Eira’s desperate outcry had made Ulf turn around to look. The deathly silence that ensued had settled permanently into the pits of her stomach. The only thing in the world that kept moving was the river as it thundered on, unphased by what had transpired. 

Where Ulf had blamed the inevitable will of the Gods and the Norn's web, Eira had blamed herself. She was the one who had pointed Ulf in the direction of the fishing snares further down the river, as she had gone to open the trap closer to the children. Ulf said the deaths had already been woven before any of them had woken that day. Eira knew in her heart that she could have changed the outcome, could have tugged the string of the web of Wyrd in another direction. She knew not how, but it pulled at her to think of it, over and over again.

It had festered in her a deep belief that there ought to be a way to challenge the decree of divine order, which decided unjustly who should live and who should die.

1600’s anatomical engraving with alchemical symbolism /// by Gerhard Altzenbach

"But in order to work miracles we must be outside the normal conditions of humanity; we must be either abstracted by wisdom or exalted by madness, either superior to all passions or outside them through ecstasy or frenzy." -Eliphas Levi, Dogma Et Rituel De La Haute Magie part II

John Bauer's 1911 illustration of Tyr and Fenrir, for Our Fathers' Godsaga by Viktor Rydberg

Ty legger hånden sin i Fenrisulvens munn som pant på at æsene ikke farer med løgn og svik.

Comparison of the Germanic Languages

A comparison of nine words in nine Germanic languages, namely: English, German, Dutch Swedish, Nynorsk, Icelandic Old Norse, Old English, and Gothic

Eng. Bread/Loaf G. Brot / Laib D. Brood

S. Bröd / Lev Nn. Braud / Leiv Ic. Brauð / Hleifur

ON. Brauð / Hleifr OE. Bréad / Hláf Gth. Brauþ / Hlaifs

Eng. Night G. Nacht D. Nacht

S. Natt Nn. Natt Ic. Nátt

ON. Nátt OE. Niht Gth. Nahts

Eng. Mother G. Mutter D. Moeder

S. Mor Nn. Moder Ic. Móðir

ON. Móðir OE. Móder Gth. Aiþei (related to ON eiða)

Eng. think G. denken D. denken

S.tänka Nn. tenkja Ic. þekkja

ON. þekkja OE. þencan Gth. þagkjan

Eng. go G. gehen D. gaan

S. gå Nn. gå Ic. gá

ON. gá OE. gán Gth. gaggan

Eng. eat G. essen D. eten

S. äta Nn. eta Ic. eta

ON. eta OE. etan Gth. itan

Eng. holy G. heilig D. heilig

S. helig Nn. helag Ic. heilagur

ON. heilagr OE. hálig Gth. hailags

Eng. high G. hoch D. hoog

S. hög Nn. håg Ic. hár

ON. hár OE. héah Gth. hauhs

Eng. Cold G. kalt D. koud

S. kall Nn. kald Ic. kaldur

ON. kaldr OE. ceald Gth. kalds

I thought I had a pretty good grasp on what the mythical creature valravn from Danish folklore is but after diving deeper it’s more versatile than expected.

The version I was originally told is that a valravn (means “war raven” or more precisely “raven of the fallen” as in fallen people on the battlefield) is a normal raven that gained human intelligence by eating the flesh or brain of dead people after a battle. With the gift of intelligence also came the curse of only being able to fly at night. The only way to gain the ability to move around in daylight was to eat the heart of a young boy. Then the valravn would be able to turn into either a human or a raven/wolf beast and go wherever it wanted whenever it pleased.

But in the most well known song about valravens they’re all human men who were turned into ravens by either a witch or a female troll. A women was told her husband could only turn back if he drank her blood so she asks another valravn for help. It agrees in exchange for the life of her first son as soon as he has spoken his first three words, suggesting an infant would be too young.

In yet another version the valravn is a human who cannibalised dead people on the battlefield and turned into a raven or a human/raven/wolf monster that could only travel at night but would continue the cannibalism until it ate a young boy at which point it would be able to turn back to a human form.

So take your pick. You want a weird creepy raven that has decided it wants to be a human? Or a tragic story of someone who can only turn back by hurting their beloved? Or perhaps a wendigo style creature who became a monster after committing the taboo of cannibalism? Or maybe a mix? Because clearly Danish people in the past weren’t too worried about the valravn canon. The only generally agreed on lore is that they’re always male, can only travel at night and they eat humans or drink human blood to reach their final form or be cured.

📷: terez_ses