Twelve Runes · After the Hávamál & the Eddas
The Faerhavn
Tarot
Twelve runes were left upon the shore, from the Hávamál and the Poetic Edda. Each stands alone in the dark — witness them, and let one speak.
The Spread
ᚺIHagalaz
Óðinn · the Allfather
All things pass; the hail becomes water. The road before you is unwalked. No man knows what he may meet.
The Hail · Threshold
ᚲIIKenaz
Loki · the Flame-bearer
Fire is a friend to the friendless. Within the wooden womb of the skøyte, its rune draws you inward. You soften.
The Torch · Heat
ᛁIIIIsa
Þrymr · the Frost-King
The cold is the clearest glass. You give yourself to the dark water and are, for an instant, erased. You sharpen.
The Ice · Cold
ᛞIVDagaz
Heimdallr · the Watchman
Between fire and ice is the stillness. Wrapped in linen, the body finds its equilibrium at the threshold. You return.
The Dawn · Rest
ᚹVHuginn & Muninn
Óðinn's Ravens · the Omen
Thought and memory fly outward each dawn. The sea has learned your name now; the omen has gone forth. It will not return unspoken.
Thought & Memory · Calling
ᛋVISowilo
Sól · the Sun-Wagon
A light burns low across the dark water, steady through the fog. Follow it. The vessel keeps a seat for you.
The Sun · Beckoning
ᛒVIIBerkano
The Álfar · the Mound-Walkers
What the cold held, the thaw reveals. The green returns to the branch. You become, again, what you had forgotten.
The Birch · Becoming
ᛖVIIIEhwaz
Sleipnir · the Eight-Legged
No man is good as a sole rider. Two go forward as one through the dark — the body and the cold moving together, neither ahead.
The Horse · Trust
ᚨIXAnsuz
Óðinn · the Word-Bringer
A word comes out of the silence — a name spoken across the water. Heed it: the message arrives on its own tide.
The Word · Message
ᚦXThurisaz
Þórr · the Warder
A thorn stands at the gate of the sanctuary. It pricks the unready and parts for the willing. Decide which you are, and step.
The Thorn · Guard
ᛃXIJera
The Nornir · the Weavers
The wheel turns though no hand turns it. What you gave to the fire, the cold returns; what the cold took, the fire restores.
The Year · Cycle
ᚷXIIGebo
The Dísir · the Givers
A gift demands a gift in return. You give the cold your breath; it gives you back your life. The exchange is older than the sea.
The Gift · Exchange
The runes have spoken
The vessel
awaits.
Between the blizzard and the hush of the deep, a fire burns in a wooden skøyte upon the San Juan waters. The hail falls, the torch opens, the ice sharpens, the dawn returns. Heed what the runes have shown, and come to the fire.
