Fenrir's Lesson: Extremity
by Raven Kaldera
I have met the Great Wolf many times, and
always he brings tears to my eyes, if only for a moment. And this is good,
because the next thing he does is to call to my Iron Wood blood - blood calling
to blood, whether I will or no - and I have to use all my strength not to
shapeshift, not to release the predator within me, who is pounding itself
against the bars howling at the presence of its God. Weeping is good. Weeping
keeps me human.
Fenris's lesson, like that of Nidhogg and Jormundgand, I write in poetry, but for different reasons. With the Great Snake, the lack of real language makes the poetry the best vehicle for explaining the rush of wordless imagery, and the Dragon's words came out half-word, half-image, for a naturally poetic feel. Fenris, on the other hand, I translate to poetry to buffer the raw red rush of his words, and the anger in them, from you, the reader. If you want to experience that much rage, bloodlust, and the sacred force of Nature's destruction, go speak to the Chained One yourself...but remember that the experience probably won't be anything like what you expect.
Although I have written about my first meeting with Fenris in "Pathwalker's Guide to the Nine Worlds", I cannot count the number of times that I have come close to him since - hearing him suddenly speak to me out of nowhere, his voice rough and harsh; seeing him horsed by chained volunteers. Why do we horse him? To feed him, as gift and offering and tribute. Especially for those of us with Jotun blood, who must keep our own wild natures in check constantly, the offering is deeply important. He feeds on the voluntarily-given pain of the horse, which we aid in creating; he feeds on blood and freshly killed meat; he feeds on our fear. We give this to him, because we care, because we understand, because we see him as that which is chained that we may go free.
There are no songs to invoke Fenris. Just howling. If he desires it, he may answer you - or not. If you come to the point of extremity where you require his aid - to help you survive some terrible torment with your soul unbroken - you will likely be in no condition to sing anyhow. In fact, if you can still form words, you should call on a different deity. Fenris is the God of Last Resort, when all is lost to your tormentors save for the last kernel of your soul.
Fenris's Lesson
What would you die for?
What would you starve for?
What would you crawl across broken glass
Rather than give up? For what would you
Suffer torture, imprisonment, pain
And never entertain the thought of giving in?
Where is that part of you,
Buried deep within the will to survive,
That cannot bend and will not break?
Where is the part of you that you cannot change
And still be yourself, still be
Anything worth being? What would you
Suffer for that final outpost of self?
Have you ever met that Self?
For if you have none, if there is
No final outpost for you that cannot be
Run over, changed, shaped, made safe
For others' comfort, then you are
Prey. Go back to your herd and huddle.
Look admiringly or fearfully at those
With that hard core of Self; you are soft
And therefore disposable. Remember that
When the dogs who guard you
From the likes of me and mine
Show that they are indeed cousins,
Not so far off; their teeth are
Very like mine, especially when bared at you.
Remember that you are their Prey as well,
That they have merely chosen not to eat
Today. What would you never give up?
If there is nothing, go home and do not
Do this work. For when you find that point,
If you have it, you find Me there,
And all that I am, teeth, slaver, claws,
Rivers of blood, lust for flesh, howls of pain,
Chains, stone walls, everything. Either I lie
At the root of your soul, or no matter what your
Fancy words and foolish bluster,
You are Prey. Go home and huddle,
For if I am not within you, I will one day be
At your window, or your door.
One or the other, you choose, or be chosen.
What would you suffer to be your Self?
The chains gall,
But there is no compromise,
Ever.
To be other than who I am...
How could I let a soulless magic
With the name of Deceiver
Win over me, my will, my magnificent
Screaming future? How could you?
I lie on my side, drooling scarlet,
And await the world's End.
Artwork by Yanare Ku.