ᛗ [February 2024 Dainty Prompt]
A rune has been cast - ᛗ Mannaz, the Elder Futhark rune for Humanity. But the one who has cast it this morning has long since distanced themselves from the very thing. And yet, there is a sense of unease that burns within their belly - something that urges them to swallow their prejudices and venture into the forest they call home to find the one thing they have been avoiding for centuries - a friend.
𝕴 𝖍𝖆𝖛𝖊 𝖐𝖎𝖘𝖘𝖊𝖉 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖗𝖘 𝖌𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖇𝖞𝖊.
I have seen the rise and fall of civilizations - I have met many a soul, and smiled mournfully as they passed me by, swept away by the yawning passage of years.
Time wears down all - but it does not touch me.
Throughout the countless centuries, my only companion has been my familiar, Ratatoskr - a curious little creature whose origins, like my own, are unknown.
But it does not matter. She is all the company I need - after all, I will never have to feel the ache of saying good-bye to her.
It is never the rays of the sun, or lack thereof, that wakes me; it is the falling snows, the quiet of my forest. Every day I exist upon this realm, I find a yearning within my breast. It is a yearning for company, for friends, for family; but it is a yearning that I have never allowed myself to sate, as it has always led to heartbreak in the past.
Always.
This morn, however, I admit to feeling… different. It is a peculiar thing, one that brings a crease to my brow and a curious bit of chittering from my life-companion, Ratatoskr. She gazes upon me with a questioning visage - appraising, even - and I wonder if the Norns have begun to take her for their own.
They do work in mysterious ways.
I swallow the feeling, though it threatens to stick fast in my throat, put my hooves on the worn wooden floor, and pull myself (albeit a bit unwillingly, this day) from the warmth of my furs. Embers twinkly from the hearth, and it is with a small amount of magic and a greater amount of pleading that I coax the fire back to a quiet rumble, enjoying the shadows it unleashes to dance around my cabin. If I’m not careful, I will lose hours to simply watching them, wishing that I could be so free.
The rest of the morning proceeds apace, beginning with tea and a light breakfast consisting of breads and dried fruits. Though I would normally have allowed the steeped leaves to guide me on my day, I find myself reaching for my runeset instead, pausing for a moment before casting thrice over the worn surface of the table.
I frown.
All of them have skittered outside my circle of casting, save for one - ᛗ - Mannaz, the rune for Humanity.
Somewhere on my bed, Ratatoskr pokes her head out from my furs, making a cacophony of excited noises, before taking off to run her track around our shared home. I, however, cannot find it within me to bring my gaze away, finding that this one rune has captured my body and soul both.
As I have mentioned previously, I am a guardian of solitude. Though my people are forever nearby, thriving with their families and traditions, I am a keeper of the forest; I live within its wooden halls, and tend to the creatures and magic that calls this place home. Seiðr does not bless my people as heavily as it once did, but I am blessed to call it companion, and do my utmost to weave my people’s fates within the web of wyrd so that they might be protected, and live happy, fulfilled lives… for however long they choose.
That being said, I must stress - I prefer to be alone.
Even as I lie to myself, I feel that peculiar feeling twist my gut. I realize that Mannaz has yet to relinquish me, and instead of fighting it, I allow myself to fall within it, allowing it to guide me. Perhaps it is time to change. My eyes drift closed and I relax back in my chair, allowing my head to fall back. Ratatoskr finds calm once more, and the only sounds that ground my soul in this plane are the gentle crackles of the fire within my heart and the snows that fall just outside my window.
My vision is thus.
Down within the valley, smoke begins to curl from the chimneys of my people’s homes. They are late to waking - but it is not a testament to their laziness. No, it is a testament to the safety that they fell, tucked away in the mountains where humanity cannot harm them. They live by the law of nature; they take only what they need, they respect the elements, and they love one another. This is all I have ever asked of them, as I continue my silent vigil.
For the moment, I am content to simply watch them. The children are the first to burst from their homes, diving into the freshly fallen snow. Tiny hoofprints dot the landscape as they frolic, finding the cold of the snow to be refreshing and a quiet promise of a bountiful spring. Their elder siblings and parents are next to follow, setting about what little tasks they have set before them - gathering wood, cooking breakfast - taking up craft or hobby, or for some, falling into the peace offered by morning prayer.
But even has I find a minute bit of joy in watching them, there is something that yet pulls at the edges of my vision.
This is not what I am meant to be looking for.
My gaze wanders. It pulls from the families to the treeline, and I feel worry flutter in my chest. From my body, I can feel the heartbeat of the forest - the song of every animal, the quiet slumber of each tree. But there is something within the forest that does not belong.
I travel within this metaphysical space, my hooves finding sure footage in this dreamscape. I am carried effortlessly through the winding paths - past fallen log and thorny bush, until I find what I am meant to find. A soul, burning brightly in the snows. Tucked away in a small clearing, bared to the elements who are, at the moment, uncertain how to proceed with this creature.
All too soon, my cabin begins to materialize around me once more, leaving me feeling guilty and slightly ill at the warm fire on my skin. Ratatoskr has curled up upon my breast, and raises her tiny head as my eyes open, her closeness stilling the unease that has taken hold of my heart. I cradle her to me, move to stand, and find my cloak - if not for myself, then surely my companion will have need of its warmth.
I pause.
My companion? Surely, that’s not the word that I meant… but no, there it is once more. A gentle softness in my soul.
Companion.
There is a newfound purpose within me as I leave the safety of my home, Mannaz left to burn brightly upon my table, next to my unfinished cup of tea. I pray for my companion’s wellbeing, and hope that I might have the chance to hear their story over a freshly brewed pot - to share. A quick glance upwards tells me that the snow threatens to fall heavier this day, and that my time may be limited. Ratatoskr takes her place upon my shoulder, buried beneath the curtain of my hair. I do not hesitate a minute longer, and push towards the clearing - and to whatever it is the Norns have in store for me.