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alexaloraetheris

This is why we study black magic. To turn it against our enemies.

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inkyami

However far I wander off, I’m never alone

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by Naomi Savoie

dioptre-hertz

True names of Swedish animals

Today I figured I’d write a bit about an interesting phenomenon in Scandinavian folklore: the concealment of the true names of some of our wild animals.

The idea that a true name holds magical power is fairly universal; it pops up in everything from Egyptian mythology to German fairytales, and nowadays it’s a pretty common fantasy trope too. In Nordic folklore in particular, it was often believed that speaking the true name of a dangerous creature could actually summon it. For example, the English idiom “speak of the devil (and he shall appear)” has as its Swedish equivalent “speak of the trolls (and they stand in the hallway)”, stemming from the belief that trolls would appear if you mentioned them by name.

Now, what’s really interesting about all this is the way it’s shaped the Swedish language. You see, the danger of speaking a creature’s name out loud also applied to wild animals that were feared in the old days: bears, wolves, and so on. As a result, people invented new names for these animals - false names, if you will, that could be spoken without risk. Nowadays, such false names are said to be “noa words”, while the true names are “tabu words” (these terms are borrowed from Māori, just like the English word taboo).

Over time, the noa words for many of these animals became their de facto names. That’s just kind of how language works: call something an X enough times, and voilà, now its name is X. Even today, many of our animals’ true names are archaic words that a Swedish speaker would never use naturally. Here are some examples:

Wolf: The true name of the wolf is ulv, which shares its etymology with the English word. Ulv is archaic; the average Swedish speaker would recognize it, but never think to use it. Instead, we say varg, which originally means something along the lines of “killer” or “criminal”.

Magpie: The true name of the magpie is skjora. This word is still in use in some dialects, but most Swedish people would not have heard it, and it is not officially recognized. Instead we say skata, meaning “something long and thin” or “something that sticks out”, referring to the tail. The magpie might not seem like an animal to be afraid of, but they were considered bad omens, thieves, or even harbingers of death… and besides, have you ever been swooped by a magpie?

Fox: The true name of the fox is räv, and in this case, it has actually remained in usage. I guess the fox wasn’t intimidating enough for its name to become completely forbidden, hehe! In the old days, farmers would sometimes refer to the fox as Mickel to avoid summoning it. You see, foxes weren’t direct threats to humans, but they did have a tendency to break into hen houses and run off with the chickens. (This is also why foxes are known in our folklore for being cunning and sly, rather than outright dangerous). I’m not entirely sure why the farmers chose to refer to the fox by what is essentially a Scandinavian version of “Michael”, but I did a bit of digging, and it turns out that old Danish uses Mikkel as a generic insult for an incompetent or foolish man. So, I guess it’s a little bit like calling the fox an asshole.

Bear: The true name of the bear has been lost to history! No one actually knows what they were originally called, since all Germanic languages use “bear” or some variation thereof, and Slavic languages use medved (meaning “honey-eater”, from what I gather). In any case, the contemporary Swedish word is björn, which - like the English word - seems to just mean “brown”. Historians speculate that the true name of the bear might be similar to the Greek ἄρκτος (arktos), but I guess we’ll never know.

There are more examples on Swedish Wikipedia, but sadly there seems to be no article in English. Still, I hope you learned something interesting from all this!

Now, imagine the kind of power we would have if we knew the bear’s true name…

boymounter

if i saw a ring of mushrooms i would simply hop in it and chug the first beverage i see

boymounter

rip to people who don’t want to be wed to the fairy queen but i’m different

mayasaura

all you bitches have the self confidence of gods to assume you’re gonna wed the queen and not be hunted for sport

#you fruits are way too fair and full of flesh to last sevenyear in the faerie wilds smh

picalla

geopsych

metagnostic-deactivated20200809

i'm a nasty hag, welcome to my evil hut. i'm not trying to be a bitch but you seem all kinds of fucked up, are you ok? please have some soup and stop to rest a while

it-kills-i

lady-janet

Guys be like “I know a spot” then take you to Carterhaugh and tell you that they actually belong to the Faery Queen and need to be rescued at midnight on Hallowe'en.

ellynneversweet

— tags from @fledgling-witch

decatris

littleyellowleaves

deluxeloy

Human: Deal.

Fey: Very well. When you return home tonight, your mother will be in pristine health again. It will be like she never fell ill at all. Even the memory of her suffering will fade…

Human: Thank you so much. She means everything to me.

Fey: I know, I know. Let’s hope the price wasn’t too much for you after all… Only time will tell.

Human: So, when do we start?

Fey: …If I may ask you to elaborate?

Human: You said you wanted my firstborn.

Fey: Yes? And you agreed?

Human: Yeah, so, when do we start?

Fey:

Fey, blushing: Ah.

hayleyolivia

So good. It deserved some art. 😊

wildsummerrose

I saw the original text post, and started getting plot bunnies. And then I saw this gorgeous comic, and I couldn’t stop thinking about it. So, here we go, a modern fairytale. Characters not based on the comic, but I’m reblogging from there because it’s sooooooo beautiful <3

Mariah’s Husband:

Everyone said that Mariah was a clever girl, a kind girl, a good girl. She could think her way into and out of trouble equally quickly, and cared deeply for her family.

When her mother fell ill, she sat and thought, and then made a decision.

Everyone said that the woods were dangerous. It was a Fae place, and the Lord of the Forest himself walked there, summertimes. If a human went in, then they were likely to have an encounter. And everyone knew those didn’t end well for the man or woman involved.

But Mariah was a clever lass, so she went walking on Midsummer’s eve. She went out wearing her finest dress, with ribbons wound in her hair. She carried a basket, which smelled of fresh bread, and she sang a tune in a fine strong voice, which echoed against the trees.

“Will you make me a bargain my lord, my lord, “will you make me a bargain my lord? “though you’ve no need to buy, “and I’ve nothing to sell, “will you make me a bargain my lord?”

All at once, a path appeared before her, and she followed it, light-footed, to a clearing that looked like it was untouched by man. There, seated on a rock in the golden rays of evening, was as beautiful a creature as she had ever seen. He was tall, had a proud face, and hair as black as midnight. He wore robes of a deep green hue, embroidered all over with silver. Mariah made a deep courtesy to him, and he bowed his head slightly, acknowledging her.

“What kind of bargain would you make with me, bold woman?”

“First, my lord, I offer you bread and milk and honey, in thanks for the beauty of your woods.” With these words, she walked a few steps toward him, put down her basket, and then backed away.

He nodded his thanks to her, then asked, “what else? Surely you didn’t come just to give me this.”

“No, my lord,” she replied. “I came to ask a boon. My mother is very ill, and I have heard that you have the power to make her well. Will you tell me the price for that gift?”

He stood then, and walked slowly around her, studying, surveying. When he finished, he was much closer. Close enough to touch. He put a finger under her chin, and raised her face to look at him.

“For a life,” he said, “I ask a life. The price is your firstborn child.” He released her chin, and looked at her, half a smirk on his face. Mortals were always like this. So full of demands. Shocked by the request. However, Mariah had known what she was getting into; had heard whispers for years, and had considered well before coming.

“Deal,” she said. “How do we seal the bargain?”

“It is done. When you return home tonight, your mother will be in pristine health again. It will be like she never fell ill at all. Even the memory of her suffering will fade.”

“Thank you. She means everything to me.” She added another courtesy for good measure.

The Lord of the Forest was not impressed. What fools these mortals be; never thinking of the weight of their promises. “Let’s hope the price wasn’t too much for you after all… Only time will tell.“ He turned as if to go, and she reached out to gently catch his wrist.

“So, when do we start?” He paused, startled by the audacity of her touch, and confused by her question.

“If I may ask you to elaborate?”

“You said you wanted my firstborn.”

“Yes? And you agreed.”

Stepping closer than he would have expected her to dare, she smiled up at him through her lashes. “Yes, I did. So when do we start?” Her voice was a little husky, her cheeks were flushing pink.

He took a deep breath, finding his own cheeks coloring. “Ah…”

In the years that came after, no one spoke of Mariah, or her husband, or the way he seemed to have appeared out of nowhere, and sometimes vanished for months at a time. They certainly never spoke of their child, a very quiet and clever boy, who watched with too-knowing eyes. But when the family disappeared one day, people were relieved.

Yet, forever onwards, it was said that they could be seen riding stags on the mountainside, watching and guarding. Travelers spoke of strange encounters, and from time to time, a young man or woman would still go into the woods, and come back, changed. But it was always for the better. For Mariah had magic of her own in her cleverness and kindness. And she wielded it well.