Heron Halfelven

The Tale of Heron Halfelven

This is a pretend Sami legend told in Finnish style. In other words, most of the mythology and religious ideas and names are Sami, except at the end. the tale was invented for a character in my sixth novel. The style used is that adopted by the Kalevala in terms of the metre and stress - but not in terms of other parts of the style, such as the repetition of a concept over several lines, using different words to describe it. That part of the style is beautiful in terms of the storytelling, but would increase the length of this tale threefold to try to reproduce.

I do hope this might encourage some readers to try the Kalevala for themselves. it isn't quite the real thing in terms of Finnish folklore (you have to go to the original stories for that), but the Fins themselves are rightfully proud of this national epic. If you do want to know more, this site provides a free copy of the Kalevala.

Some notes are supplied at the end.

Reindeer Woman, once out hunting
Caught the gaze of a wind spirit;
Filled the mind of the haltija¹.
So he courted Reindeer Woman
And they spent their time together.
Spring and summer came and ended,
As they sang and talked and hunted,
In the Northland ², cold dark village,
In the sedgeland, dark Pohjola,
In the land of great enchanters,
Reindeer Woman bore her daughter,
In the darkness that descended,
At the end of the bright summer.
There she saw a heron flying,
Flying south to Kalevala;
So she named her daughter Háigir ³,
Called her after the grey heron,
That she saw fly to Karelia.⁴
When he saw his new-born daughter
The wind spirit craved her presence,
Wanted her within his household.
Then he asked the Reindeer Woman
To abandon all her dwellings;
To abandon all her deer herds,
To give up her independence
And live with him in his cabin,
Be his wife and hunt no longer.
Reindeer Woman could not say yes,
Would not give up all her freedom.
Stole the haltija his daughter,
To the Man of All Wind's ⁵ dwelling,
Where the Wind Master is living,
Where he shovels out the north wind,
Where he shuffles out the south wind,
Where the winds are always present,
Where the storms have their beginning.
Reindeer Woman rose in anger,
Would not let him steal her daughter,
Sought the help of the noaidi,⁶
Needing all his skill to help her,
Rescue Heron from her father.
The wise man went to the saivo,⁷
To the worlds where he might find her,
Bring her back to Reindeer Woman.

There he found her, Heron Halfelf,
Brought her back to dark Pohjola,
Where sat Reindeer Woman, waiting;
Saw her child had grown three summers,
Saw her daughter had grown older,
While the child was with her father.
Reindeer Woman swore no longer,
Would her child go to the hearthside,
Where the winds and storm clouds gathered,
Where the winds were shovelled outwards,
Where the child had grown much older.
To the circle made of antlers,⁸
To the reindeer horn enclosure,
Reindeer Woman asked Beivve,
Went to the sun to plead for help.
Offered butter ⁸to Beivve and her child, Beivve-neita,
In exchange for their protection,
Of her daughter, Heron Halfelf.
When the noaidi rescued Heron,
Reindeer Woman brought her safely,
To the circle, to be guarded,
By the sun goddess and daughter.
While the leaves were on the birch trees,
And the grass grew for the reindeer,
Who were in their summer pasture,
All was well and Heron roamed free,
Walking in the woods and playing,
With the reindeer calves, or riding,
On the back of this or that cow,
Making butter for the Sun-Wife,
Feeling warm in the bright sun-fire,
Feeling safe with Reindeer Woman.
So the spring came, then the summer,
But the dark came to the sedgeland,
And the lights came in the darkness,
Riding on the lights came haltijat,⁹
Heron's father came back for her,
Took his daughter, Heron Halfelf,
To the dwelling of wind spirits.
Reindeer Woman cursed her beauty,
That had brought the spirit to her;
Swore that neither man nor spirit,
Would be captured by the beauty
Of her daughter, Heron Halfelf,
To destroy her daughter's calmness,
To bring to her tears and much strife.

To the wall went Reindeer Woman,
To the bottom of the doorwall,⁸
Where the Mother¹⁰ lived in splendour,
With three daughters, in the dwelling,
Keeping all within from hunger,
Or from need or want or ailment.
Reindeer Woman asked the Mother,
To watch over Heron Halfelf,
Keep her safely from her father,
Let her grow up in the cabin,
Where the mother, Mattaráhkká
Kept her watch over the household.
When noaidi brought back Heron,
She was taller by three summers,
Grown again while with her father,
Growing up without her mother,
Far from home in the winds' dwelling,
Far from Reindeer Woman's keeping.
So the spring came, then the summer;
When the leaves fell Reindeer Woman
Felt afraid and watched the heavens,
Stopped her daughter roaming through woods,
Told young Heron not to stray out,
Not to leave the house or hearthside,
Where the guardian Mattaráhkká,
Kept her safely from her father.
Half the winter Heron stirred not,
From her place inside their cabin,
Didn't help with reindeer herding,
Didn't help with fence repairing,
Didn't gather wood or water,
Only fed the fire and sat there,
Cooking, sewing, and the housework,
Fretting at the loss of freedom,
Listening to the free wind playing
Over snow or through the forest,
Making drifts and calling to her,
Heron Halfelf, haltija's child.

While her mother was out gathering,
Out collecting wood to cook on,
Heron listened to the wind's cries,
Went to the doorway, halted there,
Heard her name called through the birchwood,
Where Mattaráhkká sat guarding.
Though she knew her mother's order,
Heron stood beside the doorway,
Hearing what her father told her,
She unlocked the doorway's hide catch,
Opened it unto her father,
Clansmen of the wind had gathered,
Blowing in the open doorway,
Filling up the house with havoc,
Casting pots and pans aside, while
Heron's father took her from there,
Took her back to the winds' dwelling,
Took her far from dark Pohjola,
Took her from her mother's guarding,
Leaving Reindeer Woman desperate,
In the wreckage of her hearthside,
Swearing vengeance on her life's blood,
That she would recover Heron,
And her father would no longer,
Find his daughter, nor would take her,
To the hall of the Wind Master,
Where the Man of All Winds shovelled
North and south wind, east and west wind,
Into the world to chill the bones.
Now to one of Mother's daughters,
Sáráhkká came Reindeer Woman,
Seeking help to save her daughter,
Knowing Sáráhkká would aid her.
Acting on Sáráhkká's counsel,
Reindeer Woman took an offering
Of best antlers to the seita,¹¹
To the holy place of spirits,
From there bringing back a small stone,
Hand sized, hearth sized, placed it in fire,
There to glow red as the fire grew.
Then she offered to Sáráhkká,
Throwing drink upon the hot fire,
And the stone had taken new shape,
Taking on the form of humans,
To the gaze of Reindeer Woman,
Looking like her missing daughter.
The noaidi found her daughter,
Brought her back to Reindeer Woman,
Who left her within the cabin,
While she travelled to the seita.
Reindeer Woman took the stone back,
Placed it in the holy water,
In the sacred water-fall there,
While Sáráhkká took her daughter,
Changed her to a dull grey hearthstone,
Looking like the other firestones.
So the searching spirit saw nought,
When he blew in to take Heron,
Went instead to find her elsewhere,
Went instead to Reindeer Woman,
Who was waiting at the seita,
For the haltija to find her.
There he found the Heron stone-shape,
Took it back to the winds' cabin,
Back in place of Heron Halfelf,
To the house of Man of All Winds.
Reindeer Woman then knew triumph,
Saw her enemy defeated,
Turned back homeward, back to safety,
Taking water in a bucket,
Intent upon the hearthfire stones,
Intent upon her child's release,
So she heard not the wind's raging,
Heard not his fury, her child's father,
Heeded not haltija's anger,
As he summoned all his clansmen,
To be with him at the dwelling.
Reindeer Woman left her daughter,
To be safe in secret stone-shape,
To be hidden from her father,
As Reindeer Woman stayed within,
Burning all her kindling in store,
Ekeing out her food and water,
Her stores shrinking, then were all gone,
Then did Reindeer Woman go out,
Locking shut the door behind her,
To ensure Sáráhkká stood fast,
In protection of her daughter,
Reindeer Woman left her dwelling,
To the Mother and her daughters,
Trusting Heron to their care.

Heron's father beat her mother,
Asking where she hid his daughter,
Reindeer Woman would not tell him,
So he stole her wandering nature,¹²
Took it down to Jabmeaimo,¹³
Left it there until she told him,
Where his daughter had been hidden.
The noaidi went to find her,
Reindeer Woman's roaming spirit,
Went down into Jabmeaimo,
Went to rescue Heron's mother,
Spoke there unto Jabmeakka,
Ancient mother of that kingdom,
She would not release the spirit,
While lay hidden Heron, somewhere.
The noaidi left in sadness,
Leaving Reindeer Woman's spirit,
Left it there in Jabmeaimo,
Knowing she would never submit,
Never let her daughter dwell there,
Forever in the tent of all winds,
Forever with the haltijat.
Went he back into her dwelling,
Asked sage Sáráhkká for advice,
Took the stone and journeyed southward,
Through the forest, through the winter,
Always looking out for Stállu. ¹⁴
When he met him, the noaidi
Told Stállu he would be married,
And the stone would be a good wife,
Would bear him sons to make him proud,
So Stállu kept hope his life-long,
To heartbeat kept the hearthstone close,
Never strayed it from his left flank,
Bequeathed it to his son on death,
In the hope that it would offer,
All the great sons that were promised,
Son did not believe his father,
He had heard the tale his lifelong,
So he found a forest seita,
And he left there Heron Halfelf,
Left her stone there, unbelieving,
There she rested, in Karelia,
There she slept, for many long years,
Til a maiden, named Tellervo, ¹⁵
Daughter of the lord Tapio,¹⁵
Daughter of lady Mielikki,¹⁵
Forest lord and forest lady,
Til Tellervo, in the springtime,
Found the stone and thought it perfect,
Took it back into her sauna,
Where maidservant stoked the fire up,
Heated the stone until it glowed,
Poured on water, steam arising,
In the steam was Heron's spirit,
Entering the maiden's body,
In the sauna maid gave birth then,¹⁶
Born again was Heron Halfelf,
Renamed now as Heron Twice-born,
Far from father, far from mother,
In among a different people,
Now she writes herself a new tale,
Once was Sámi, now Suomi,¹⁷
She ventures forth to start again.

notes

1. Haltija are the 'hidden folk', ranging from house hobs or helpers, to nature spirits inhabiting rivers and other landscape features. The word is often translated as 'elf' or 'fairy'. Pronounced HAL-ti-yah.
2. 'Northland', 'sedgeland' and Pohjola or its variants refer to a mythical land in the Kalevala that is probably real life Sapmi, or what used to be called Lappland. Sapmi exists across national boundaries and is the place where the Sami live. For the Heathens of the Scandinavian countries, this was a place inhabited by magicians.
3. Háigir is Sami for Heron (I think!). The Finnish for 'Heron Halfelven' would be Haikara Puolihaltija, as far as I can tell.
4. Karelia is part of Sapmi that is now within the Russian territories. Kalevala also exists in the same general area. Indeed, the Kalevala seems to originate from Karelia. Sibelius, the Finnish composer, also wrote music around Karelia and the stories from the Kalevala.
5. The 'Man of Winds' is a god from the pagan Sami religion. He shovels the winds from his house. He is part of the Sami creation myth.
6. 'Noiadi' or 'noaide' is northern Sami for what many people would call a shaman.
7. Saivo is/are the otherworlds.
8. This is attested as religious practice.
9. Not a mistake! The plural of 'haltija'.
10. The Mother and her daughters were the great domestic deities, mainly respected only by women. The placings and observancies are attested.
11. 'seita' (there are other spellings) is a holy place outdoors, often marked by a rock or other landscape feature. Coins and antlers would be left.
12. The Sami believed each person had two souls - one fixed and one that could wander. Hence, a noaide could send his wandering soul out to help heal someone else.
13. The more favourable Sami version of the afterlife. There is a worse one!
14. a troll-like figure in Sami folklore who is a bit dim.
15. Finnish deity
16. I am told the sauna was used by Fins as a place to give birth
17. The Finnish word for Finland/Finnish.

He stood there looking uncertain, on the common under dark skies. For a moment there was no car; no farmhouse behind us; and no Sam. There was only Merlin standing in front of me, the cloak hiding his form, save for one black sleeved arm that held a staff that seemed alive.
Under The Skin

I wasn’t faking the anger I felt. But the upright hair on my hackles wasn’t entirely down to that. I was also scared shitless. Walking into that was like walking into a storm. Worse, almost immediately my energy began to leave me. I felt tired, and stumbled. As I did, I needed no smell to see the triumph on Black Jack’s face. For once, our gods were wrong, and had betrayed us. I howled my misery.
Remembrance Day

Deep in the forest glades they say,
That since I last came here to stay
A fine voice sings whose tone is fay,
And glimpses seen, of crimson gay
As in Camelot so grand.
But who hath seen this fairy maid?
And why should any be afraid,
Of something armed with fine brocade
Here in my dear Broceliande?
Merlin and Vivian

He pulled over onto the slight verge and we stared at each other. The reaction to what I’d smelled was both physical and emotional. I wanted desperately to change; to run; to fight in the fur. Just to be out of my skin. I hadn’t wanted to put my clothes back on. My teeth and hair had already slipped and I could feel the pressure at the base of my spine where my tail ought to be. What had happened inside was the greater change
Bloodline

This thing called sex, this thing called lust;
it's shown as need, as bump and thrust,
with hand on bum and hand on bust.

But in the fire's dim ember glow,
the shadows melt and sharp lines flow.
There bodies meet and passion know.
To Cass

And I was Michael, now, here. It was I who ran my thumb down the low werewolf hairline that half hid the misshapen tattoo. It was I who bent to kiss it and breathed her name. It was I who ran my hand down the curve of her body. The need for her was a pain inside me that had nothing to do with the physical urge. She was my wolf. My wolf. Beyond that, she was Isolde, someone I had not expected, and I would not give her up. Damn it, not for Declan; not for anyone.
Wyrdwolf

They make of me a monster, and of you a figure of fun.
They talk as though our times are past, as though our day is done.
But while there is still pain and strife, and while there is a lust for life –
Then e’er so long I am your wife,
Your other half

The Morrigan
To In Daghda

that was a form of Russian roulette with the odds stacked against me. Against us. On the basis of what we knew, Michael going to prison was the only certain way of neither of us dying. What a bleak choice.
Remembrance Day

I raised my axe and held fast, waiting for the inevitable. I had been through this so many times before, but each time was new; each was different. Each time was an assault I had to face alone. Cally had proved we could fail. Would this be my time?
Under The Skin

For if upon the host you light
and not with speed avert your sight;
their thrall shall fall upon you straight,
and twined with them shall lie your fate.

And as they ride, your soul be drawn
along their path, until with dawn
shall hie their host under the hill,
and go you too, whate'er your will.

The Faerie Host

What had the original Emrys had been like, the first Merlin? Not like this. But at some stage this is what they had become. Here, in his own house, energy seeped from him constantly, maintaining the plants and the property in a circle of harmony and peace. He was like a wire, connecting the land and the gods.
Wyrdwolf

Let nothing befear thee: let nothing befright thee;
The darkness has passed and dawn's glory is here.
The wingtips that brushed thee, are driven before thee;
The gods shall watch o’er thee, oh child of their heart.
The promise of Protection

What had the original Emrys had been like, the first Merlin? Not like this. But at some stage this is what they had become. Here, in his own house, energy seeped from him constantly, maintaining the plants and the property in a circle of harmony and peace. He was like a wire, connecting the land and the gods.
Wyrdwolf

The passage graves of Ireland and Scotland give us the most dramatic demonstrations of Neolithic culture in terms of communal industry, art, precise architecture and astronomy. Here we find grand structures built to such careful planning that the corbel roofs they created have survived to this day. This was allied with the ability to create the ‘light box’ in Newgrange or gap in Meas Howe to catch the sun at the winter solstice, or the equinoctial sunrise at Loughcrew. How were these great structures built? What was their purpose?
Stone Age Culture

I didn’t ask him where we were. From the fairy light adorning the surrounding hills, it had to be Elfhame. This was the land ruled by the Seelie Court and we were all trespassers.
Luck & Judgement

T’was at the Autumn equinox we all joined hand in hand
And we formed a great big circle and we chanted and we sang.
As there’s nothing going on just now and no one has a clue
Of what it is we celebrate, but that’s what pagans do

Oh it all makes a rite for the pagan-folk to do..
Song - The Wheel of the Year

“If you expect me to believe you can trace your family line back to the frigging Anglo Saxon period or beyond and you’ve all kept your heads down so successfully no one knows who you are, you must expect me to have been born frigging yesterday. And I’ll tell you something for nothing, sunshine – I was not born yesterday. Why the fecking hell would every generation in your frigging family want to keep hidden? It’s not as though you’re frigging -”
The word ‘Merlin’ hung unspoken in the air.
Remembrance Day

Sleek, sorcerous, with sulphur eyes,
Fierce-feral, dappled Bacchus traces
the silver threads of mortal lives;
He treads the spiral dance, he paces
the labyrinth of lost embraces.
Romance made manifest, he charts
The entrance to grimalkin hearts.
Summer Solstice

Max approached me slowly. Now it was his time he seemed reluctant to do what he had threatened for so long. Now that the time had come that I had dreaded, the fear lifted and I prepared myself to fight my mate as if he were a stranger.
Wyrdwolf

if the Inquisition or the Bureau ever found out I’d held this court, it would be a criminal offence. Enough to put me in jail for a while, and so kill me. That was the chance I took every time I made a judgement, and it wouldn’t stop me. Or perhaps, one day, it would. But at this moment, in this place, I would do what I was meant to do.
Luck & Judgement

the Spinner spins a crimson thread
ex nihilo, bred
of no body, blood
of no blood, running red
over the wheel, flood
of tears and wear and tear of years
and bitter woes that flesh inherits
but also joys, fresh merits and unmerits
which the body gives and earns
and which no angel ever learns
by only pure intelligence.
The Weaver

Both the wheel and the swastika – another version of it – were common symbols throughout Europe and Britain, and were associated with a sun deity. Numerous examples are found on dedications and grave goods. In Britain the swastika was particularly associated with the Anglo Saxon god Thunor. It is generally assumed that both indicate the solar cycle, and the rolling of a burning wheel at midsummer would occur at the turn of the solar year.
Article - Wheel of the Year

But the cloaks, amazing as they were, weren’t the most eye-catching thing: that was the staff. I had only glimpsed sight of that once, when Freya briefly gave me a true sight of Michael, five years ago at Aconbury. I’d completely forgotten about it since. More accurately, I’d assumed it didn’t really exist. Now here it was: about five feet of dark, twisting wood, carved with ram horned snakes that moved, topped by a perfect representation of an owl. It turned its head to study the visitors, wooden eyelids blinking.
Remembrance Day

Starlight has an athame, Wodenson an axe;
They all use force to thrust them into other people’s backs.
Dressing up in costumes, playing silly games,
Hiding behind free speech shouting out rude names.
Pagan Wars

Michael reacted instantly, thrusting out his hand to push her back from the circle occupied by the jinni. By doing so, she staggered, losing her balance. Jinn closed in on that part of the outer circle. Michael immediately reversed what he was doing, reached out, closed his fist and yanked back in towards himself, as though pulling in a rope. It was too late.
Under The Skin

It is said that in the Middle Ages Brittany was covered by the forest which was the Broceliande of Arthurian legend. For those whose familiarity with such legends is bounded by British references, it may come as a surprise to know that the major medieval romances, including Malory, were entirely at home with Arthurian cycle taking place, to a large extent, in Brittany.
Brittany: of Megaliths and Merlin

Marilyn screamed as the blade drove between her and the mara. Or the mara screamed as the silver destroyed it. In that brief moment she was free I whispered to her that she could start again, start afresh. Live without it. But it was no good. I saw a new shadow approach through the walls to occupy her.
Bloodline

Of all the drink that I brought here, I drank it in good company;
And any harm you think I’ve done, alas was done to none but me;
And any harm you think you did, I thankfully now can't recall,
So fill with me the parting glass, goodnight and joy be with you all.
The Pagan Parting Glass

The sound of the gun firing was as much muffled by my flesh as by the silencer. My paws, scrabbling to gain purchase on the ground to enable me to get a better hold, simply gave way under me, as though the nerve cells no longer carried the messages from my brain to the muscles.
Wyrdwolf

many pagans may be surprised to discover that this specific concept of the horned god appears to be a little more recent than many might think, as it derives from the writings of Margaret Murray, in the 1920s.
Who Is Cernunnos

I turned on him, snarling. He hissed back at me. Green eyes to my amber he spat his annoyance and I drew my lips back all the way. I felt my teeth change, the canines growing. This close to total full moon it meant I’d have them now until after the hunt. Oh, absolutely marvellous. The night was getting better by the minute.
Wyrdwolf

Once upon a time there was a coven.
It started life in 1452.
But the family history of each separate member
Went further back as these traditions do.

These are the days, my friend,
Let’s make them never end.
We’ll tell our tales, to crowds of envious fools.
We’ll give them total rot:
We’ll lie an awful lot,
For we can’t lose, we know that we can’t lose.
Traditional Witchcraft

After Vortigern's death, Merlin assists Pendragon, who is now the British king, and his brother Uther in their struggles against the invading Saxons. Just as Merlin has foreseen, a great battle is fought near Salisbury in which Pendragon meets his death. Uther then ascends the throne and adopts the name "Utherpendragon" to honour his brother, and Merlin erects the great stone ring (Stonehenge) on Salisbury Plain as a memorial to the fallen Britons.
Merlin in France

When she spoke, the syllables on the paper took on a guttural life. A flame sparked in the inner circle within the pentagram and flared into something fierce. In the fire was the silhouette of a man, wavering in the heat haze. The light caught us all, except the ghost, whose form reflected nothing.
Under The Skin

It was all bizarrely like something out of a 1970s Hammer horror movie. Did Andrew completely lack any style or was this the sort of thing most magicians actually went in for? There were red and black hangings around the altar, large black and red candles in places, and various symbols drawn on the flagstones and around the altar.
Bloodline

I'm a Heathen by conviction
All things German I've a fix on
But my wife's a proper vixen
So I worship Thor.
Ode to Thor

The wight chose to take a fairly common form similar to a small bogle: a human shape with a pot belly, oversized head, hands and feet, and stick-like arms and legs. A downy fur covered his body. I wasn’t falling for it. All that meant was that he felt friendly towards us, or at least neutral. If we pissed him off he’d take another shape if it suited him. Some of them could be huge and very unpleasant.
Luck & Judgement

In ancient times in Ironwood cold, two ettins and their dam
Ran free in wood and snow and ice, far from the gaze of man.
And one had hair as pale as stars, and one was red as fire;
And both ran wild beneath the moon, beside their shaggy sire.
Oh rose-red maid, Oh snow white maid; they ran beside their sire.
Tyr's Bride