#Dragons that have their own mythological beasts even though they themselves are myths to us

[otiksimr]

Do you all have anything for legends in the series. Now I don't mean Legends as in Darkstalker Legends I mean in book legends. Like stories dragons tell each other that have persisted throughout the years.

Little fairy tales parents tell their kids, bed time stories things like that.

#I am in desperate need for wof worldbuilding and Tui for sure isn't going to give us any #I must steal my followers headcanons #I can just imagine parents telling their kids cautionary tales to scare their kids into being obediant #like “ohhh if you misbehave [insert dragon equivalent of the babadook] is going to get you” #Like these big epic legends about these great heros #Mythos and such #heh #Dragons that have their own mythological beasts even though they themselves are myths to us #they have their own legends and beliefs #These stories of fantastical beasts that are told from tribe to tribe #historian dragons that dig up and translate these lost tales about heros from the olden days #what we could've had #Kos speaks #wof #wings of fire

[flameaccord]

Below you will find an overview of the old myths of the Legendary Homunculi of Amestris. Whether one chooses to believe in the factual nature of this is up to them, and you will be hard pressed to even find a born and raised citizen of the region that does so. Really, you will have difficulty finding one that’s heard of them at all, or wishes to admit that they have.

Ouroboros, the one responsible for the creation of the rest. Comparisons can and have been drawn to Arceus, “The Original One,” of Sinnohan mythology. Though like much in Amestris, its color palette and the story surrounding it are much darker than has come to be expected.

Type: Normal Special move: Conviction Other names: Father of the Homunculi

Emissa, who is said to know what you seek before even you do yourself. It can offer whatever it is that you want, or show the path to achieving this goal. But it will always come at a terrible price, and you may not be willing to let it enact that toll. Take caution, as well, for if it agrees to help . . . consider what it may be getting out of the deal, for it will never offer a helping hand just from the goodness of its heart.

Type: Dark / Psychic Special move: Ultimate Spear Other names: The embodiment of the sin of Lust* *this presents itself most often in the form of bloodlust, a wicked streak of violence plaguing wherever it wanders. As well as its tendencies to draw out what it is that its victims are looking for, and using that to further its own goals.

Voraci, a being of never-ending hunger. While it may appear docile much of the time, it is easily prone to fits of frenzy, where it will attempt to eat anything (or anyone) that crosses its path. Despite these tendencies, it has been noted to be one of the kindest of the Homunculi, showing little of the disdain that its siblings do for humanity. It considers itself close to the rest of its kind, and has been known to ask them for permission before going on its ravenous rampages. It has even spared lives, in the past, at the very request of its would-be victims. There is never a guarantee, but it is worth the attempt, should you come across it.

Comparisons can and have been drawn to Snorlax, “The Sleeping Pokémon.” It is unknown what the connection is, or if this legend is simply a mistake on the Amestrians part, having been unfamiliar with Snorlax from its lack of appearance in their own region. It has been suggested that Voraci may simply be a variant, but more research is necessary.

Type: Dark / Normal Special move: World Eater Other names: The embodiment of the sin of Gluttony

Instiga, said to have two highly different forms depending on the level of its power. On the left is its weaker, default state, and on the right is when it is completed. The primary motivation of this creature is to cause problems wherever possible and make humans and pokémon alike fight amongst themselves. Wars have broken out by Instiga’s ministrations, and this is something that it has never had regrets about. It lives to take joy in the suffering of others, and will freely continue to sew that discord whenever the opportunity arises.

At its core, it is jealous of the relationships that mortals are known to share with each other, and the inner strength that they possess. The Homunculi do not show each other such care and dedication, they do not tend to display much in the way of emotional connection at all. It is this fact that drives the serpentine beast to enact a more personal vendetta than the rest, hating and mistreating them far more than any of its siblings ever could.

Type: Dark / Bug Special move: Discordant Other names: The embodiment of the sin of Envy

Avarishi, a dragon through and through. It desires nothing more than to accumulate everything that it can, whether that be wealth, allies, and anything else to allow it to live in the lap of luxury. It is the only one of the Homunculi to not wish to associate with their Father, or even the rest of its siblings, and instead strike out on an entirely solitary path. Openly defiant, Avarishi only knows and does what it personally wishes to, though it’s been noted to have a surprisingly caring nature. Anyone that finds themselves as a subordinate or other associate may be surprised to discover that, though it does insist that this is merely because people are possessions as well, and breaking them is breaking what belongs to it.

Type: Dark / Dragon Special move: Ultimate Shield Other names: The embodiment of the sin of Greed

Daisical, the one who lurks far below the surface of this world. It spends its days traversing the terrain, on a mission that even it does not know nor care for the full extent of. It does not have strong feelings one way or the other about humanity, and instead carries on with a simple drive to do what it has been told. Whether these are the orders of its Father, or anyone else that’s managed to claim the mantle of master, Daisical will diligently work until the job is done. It will work and work and work, for the simple promise of rest at the end of the line.

Rumor has it that its duties have indeed come to an end, and now it simply slumbers, enjoying the rest while it still can. Awaiting the day that it is awoken again, and dreading the very possibility.

Type: Dark / Ground Special move: Drums in the Deep Other names: The embodiment of the sin of Sloth

Ultimeye, the watcher in the water. This one is said to lurk in the shadows of the swamplands, though there are conflicting accounts as to its nature. Some say that it is quite kind, sympathetic to those who have found their way out to it (usually far more turned around than they would like to admit). Compassionate, in spite of the vice that it is meant to represent most, and displaying quite the mischievous streak.

However, when angered, it is more than clear what it embodies. Ultimeye is downright vicious when it wishes to be, often shaking from restraint as it attempts to contain itself. Brutal in attacks, an ill encounter with it is not something that will likely be survived. One must endeavor to impress it if they are not immediately eviscerated, and even still, the last words they are likely to hear are the taunts of this foe and condemnation for being so disappointing.

Type: Dark / Grass Special move: Ultimate Eye Other names: The embodiment of the sin of Wrath

Imperius, the smallest of the Homunculi, but do not let that fool you. Whatever you do, be sure to exercise caution around this one, and do not ever for a second underestimate it. It appears unassuming in its default form, as shown on the left. An innocent spirit, one that enjoys its playthings, taking great joy in pulling all manner of creatures into its games. Should one find themselves included, however, they are much more likely to catch a glimpse of the form that it reverts to when it feels no need to hide.

It is selfish and incredibly self-absorbed, placing itself far above that of every mortal and even its own siblings. There is nothing in this world that is mightier or stronger than Imperius, save for their Father, from which it takes great pride in having been a part of. Brutal and cruel, it delights in taunting its opponents at every opportunity, never believing that they could ever come close to being a match.

If even the rest of its kind cannot defeat it, well, what hope does anyone else think they have?

Type: Dark / Ghost Special move: Kneel to the Crown Other names: The embodiment of the sin of Pride

#🔥 ; ˡᵉᵍᵉᶰᵈᵃʳʸ ʰᵒᵐᵘᶰᶜᵘˡᶤ (.Amestris lore building)

[themousefromfantasyland]

Fairy Tale Laws: How Fairy Tales and their Worldbuilding work

Who follows me knows I'm mega into mythology and folklore. One of my favorite pieces of folklore and fantasy literature is the Fairy Tale. Since I was a child I was always draw to the magical world of Disney films and their darker literary counterparts.

I love fairy tales, yet in my opinion they continue to be one of the more misunderstood and neglected genres out there.

So, as a Disney fan and avid fairy tale reader, in this essay I show how the genre itself generally works and which principles rule their whimsical world

Fairy Tales, Myths and Fables

The thing that fairy tales, myths and fables have in common is that they all find their origins in the oral tradition.

They were fantastical tales, not told specifically for children but deeply enjoyed by them, that were transmitted through generations.

Both fairy tales and myths don't follow real world logic, instead following their own dream-like logic, in a sequence of weird and fantastical events, that are magical and intriguing to the listener, but essentially normal to the in-universe characters.

Often than not there aren't any explanations of why these events happen and their impact of those in-universe societies, they just happen. Animals talk, mythical creatures live along with human societies just fine, inanimated objects come to life, people seem to turn into animals all the time, etc, and nothing of that seem to ever change the status quo.

The thing that differentiate the fairy tale from the myth, is that the myth is supposed to have happened in our world, but in a far off past. They are supposed to explain how our world came to be, and they have a very strong religious importance. The fairy tale on the other hand is not supposed to be took seriously. It's a fun story that the older generation tell to the younger generation. It can pass deeply important life or religious values, but that's not their main point. They are fairy tales, not fables.

The point of the fable is to transmit a moral. The point of a fairy tale is to transport the listener into a fantastical journey.

Fairy Tales vs. Oral Stories

Although many folk stories became immortal fairy tales, not all fairy tales came from oral tradition. Actually, some can be traced back to specific authors.

The Little Mermaid, the Ugly Duckling and the Steadfast Tin Soldier are all considered immortal fairy tales, yet they were all created by famous danish writer Hans Christian Andersen. A lot of his stories are authoral, and all are considered true fairy tales.

The term "Fairy Tales" actually comes from the french "conte de fées" and was coined in the 17th century by Marie-Catherine Le Jumel de Barneville, Baroness d'Aulnoy, the Madame d'Aulnoy, a french writer who wrote about a world where love and happiness came to heroines after overcoming great obstacles.

These stories arise from the Préciosité, a French literary style in the 17th century, from "les précieuses", intellectual, witty and educated women who frequented the salon of Catherine de Vivonne, marquise de Rambouillet. Themes presented in these stories are the ideals of feminine elegance, etiquette and courtly Platonic love, all hugely popular with female audiences, but scorned by men.

Telling fairy tales was a popular préciosité parlor game, and they should be told as if spontaneously, even though they all were carefully prepared. This style served as influence for Charles Perrault and Gabrielle-Suzanne Barbot de Villeneuve.

Villeneuve herself was the original author of Beauty and the Beast, and although the story is heavily inspired by older legends like Cupid and Psyche, it still is an authoral story.

Even the Brothers Grimm and Charles Perrault, who were famous for being collectors of tales from oral tradition, gave their own twists and embellishments to their tales. For example, in many Cinderella tellings it's her mother's ghost who helps her. The Fairy Godmother is Perrault's invention.

So more than been just stories from the oral tradition, fairy tales as a literary genre are the reinvention of the old tropes found in the folk stories under a more sophisticated polish, for a new public.

Fairy Tale as a literary genre

In a way I consider the Fairy Tale a sibling genre to Magical Realism. As TV Tropes puts:

"In Magic Realism, events just happen, as in dreams. [...] Magical realism is a story that takes place in a realistic setting that is recognizable as the historical past or present. It overlaps with Mundane Fantastic. It has a connection to surrealism, dream logic, and poetry."

Both use a surreal, almost poetic internal logic with little to no explanation. Magical Realism is the occurrence of a fantastical event in a realistic setting, in a fusion between the mundane and the magical world.

Fairy Tales are similar because they often deal with very domestic topics and subjects. The protagonists often are normal people with very mundane goals. They don't want to save the world, they want to save themselves and their loved ones.

Cinderella and Snow White for example, are more concerned with escaping from their abusive families than being cultural or legendary heroes like in the myths. Hansel and Gretel are trying not to die from starvation, and Red Riding Hood is trying to visit her sick grandmother. Regardless of class status, these are people with their own problems that find in the fantastical events a escape from them, or a even worse danger.

This is not a universal rule, as some characters are more heroic and there's more in stake, but generally the heroes are domestic heroes and it's only their lives that are in stake.

The difference between the Magic Realism and the Fairy Tale, is that while in the Magic Realism you can easily point where the realistic setting ends and the magical one begins, the fairy tale goes even further, and the lines between the worlds are way more muddled.

Worldbuilding in Fairy Tales

Now, that's the most important part. Fairy Tales are a sub-genre to Fantasy, but while in the other genres the magic world is described in the minimal details, often with rich details about the in-universe cultures and their rules, the Fairy Tale maintain the magic world as vague as possible. That's because it uses what I call "soft-worldbuilding".

Part of the appeal of the fairy tale is to transport the reader in a fantastical journey, but in order to do that they use as little details possible, allowing the reader to try to fill in the gaps. That's in order to avoid the magic world of feeling too real or too close to reality. The reader needs to have a sense of wonder and intrigue, and if you started to describe your world in all its details, it will become too grounded, and the wonder and the intrigue will be lost.

Said that, you need some basic rules, otherwise everything will be incredibly incoherent. You reader needs to understand how the magic world works and their rules, but they also need to be slightly lost, discovering all the details along the way and be amazed by them, lost in a mystery that they will never find all the answers.

To illustrate this, look at the differences between the Middle-earth and Narnia. One is a standard fantasy world, the other is a fairy tale world. J.R.R. Tolkien drew inspiration from the epics, C.S. Lewis drew inspiration from fairy tales and childhood stories.

The Middle-earth is grounded on its own rules, with their own races, cultures, languages and myths. Narnia is a playground were everything magical is allowed. Greek mythology creatures? Okay. Roman gods? Okay. Father Christmas? Okay. Jesus? Of course!

One is worried about all the small details, the other wants everything as vague and simple as possible, as to ensure the wonder and the intrigue will never be lost the reader.

When you're dealing with a fairy tale world you have way more freedom than the standard fantasy world. You don't need to think too deeply in the details. You can use the Rule of Funny and the Rule of Cool as much as you want, as long as it's minimal consistent and coherent

Fairy Tale Laws

This are some basic rules and principles that I believe rule over the fairy tale genre

Establish rules of how the world works. Keep it consistent and coherent. That's your base

Not every fantastical event needs a deep explanation, and magic is not allowed as an universal explanation

Keep it simple. Don't worry too much about the small details.

You don't want your world to be too grounded in reality. A little escapism is key

Poetic logic and surrealism reigns

Have fun with all the weird and magical things that crowded your world. "Rule of Cool" and "Rule of Funny" reign

Never reveal too much to your reader. They need to constantly feel as if there is something more happening off the limits of your story

Domestic heroes (As Narnia and the old dragon slayer stories show, this is not an universal rule)

The overall tone can be darker and edgier, softer and lighter, or somewhere in the middle

#fairy tales #fantasy literature #writers on tumblr #worldbuilding

[sepublic]

Just considered another function for Rahi: Acting as guard dogs.

Mata Nui doesn’t want the Matoran snooping around a certain place, because there’s hidden machinery that could reveal the secret of their universe? He just has the Makuta put a bunch of highly dangerous and territorial Rahi in that area. Program these Rahi to be powerful and chase out anything foreign, while wanting their habitats to be maintained the same as always.

Rahi don’t -usually- come with the existential curiosity and questioning of people that might lead them to observe and explore things beyond face value, nor will they ever realize how weirdly mechanical this aspect of their territory is, and connect the dots and then explain it to others. This is just their territory and so they won’t ask questions and can’t answer any to begin with, while still having a feasible, natural explanation for their presence, VS obvious robotic guards or something like that.

Sure, you might have to worry about someone using a Rau to ask a Rahi about the secrets of its elusive territory, but again- You make them extra aggressive and not inclined to ponder nor sit around and talk. I like to imagine that Chirox and Teridax were inclined to make these kinds of Rahi... Chirox because deadly monsters was the only thing he knew how to make, Teridax because it was just a lot of fun.

Teridax would love devising all manner of terrifying cryptids, horror stories told at night warning people not to go too far into this forest, lest you incur the wrath of ‘the beast’ or whatever. I think that fits with his original 2001-03 depiction, as a gatekeeper hiding the secret parts of the world, associated with dangerous beasts of myth that Matoran are told to avoid.

Stories of monsters in the dark that strike fear into the hearts of villagers, and discourage exploration due to a fear of the unknown... Not to mention Bionicle’s roots in classic mythology, rife in tropes such as the powerful dragon that guards the mystical hoard of treasure- The ancient secrets that the hero earns for defeating them! The Makuta were likely responsible for these kinds of tales and (mostly) intentionally so...

Though they weren’t thrilled about stories suggesting there was a reward to be found, because that just encouraged people to keep encroaching the territory of these Rahi, forcing the Makuta to bulk up defenses even more, much to their annoyance. For some people, a mysterious threat was just an enticing challenge and question to be solved- And many correctly guessed that there was something these Rahi were guarding, since the Makuta must’ve had reasons for creating them. Perhaps these Rahi didn’t just choose this spot on their own, maybe a Makuta chose it for them... So why?

Luckily, the Order of Mata Nui made sure these clever pioneers never lasted long... As for the Makuta themselves, things varied- Some weren’t given much in regards to these types of assignments. Some didn’t pay much heed to what they were guarding, and/or respected Mata Nui’s privacy. Some got a glimpse, from curiosity and/or as the inevitable part of the job fortifying a place.

Some found these things to be a bit weird, and maybe there were some conspiracy theories here or there, suspicions and speculation amongst colleagues and peers... But they were content to trust in the Great Spirit’s machinations. Then Tren Krom came along and they realized just how literal that phrase was... Then they doubled-downed on security, while others remembered how mysteries enticed people, and tried to keep the Rahi less unique and more discreetly common, while still a viable deterrent.

Considering how dangerous the Southern Islands were, I have to wonder if there was a LOT of important stuff in Mata Nui’s legs, and how much the Makuta knew about what they were guarding there, intentionally or otherwise. The Antidermis pool, the source of their species (and thus a possible point of extinction) was located there... And people were able to leave the Matoran Universe through the legs, so lethal Southern Islands would discourage people discovering and getting themselves and/or Mata Nui killed.

In that case, I guess Makuta didn’t properly do his job when the rebellion tracked his forces through the Southern Islands and were thus able to escape his grasp in the first place, allowing Tahu to don the Golden Armor, and cause Teridax’s death. Gotta keep some things secret, but not too obviously secret or else people will realize there’s something to find, and start looking for it (so tone down the legendary beasts straight out of myth). Because the more effort you put in to hide it, the higher chance there’s something VERY important and thus even more worthwhile behind... And in this case, there was- And that just means even more motive and effort to retrieve that.

(Though in some cases explorers were disappointed to find ‘just’ inexplicable machinery, left, and then never mentioned it again. Still, to be safe, Helryx would always assign Tobduk... Sometimes the Makuta or others placed treasures to act as decoys, to distract from the real secrets the Rahi were guarding, so said explorers would leave content and not question any further, believing they had found all there was to be discovered. Stuff like neat trinkets crafted by Artakha to satisfy curiosity and provide a nice wrapping bow of closure to this mystery.)

#bionicle #rahi #makuta #brotherhood of makuta #teridax #Chirox #headcanon #headcanons #worldbuilding #YaBr

[bugcthulhu]

Spanish/Iberian mythological creatures: What Even edition

Oricuerno: The “main” Spanish take on the unicorn (the other being the Escornau). White-furred with a purple head, blue or red eyes, deer hooves topped by small wings, and a twisted black, red and white horn. Usually living in the highest mountain peaks, has the power to turn women into men, and also cure poisonings and purify waters. Its entire body is considered a powerful amulet

Caltrí Snake: Massive and thick-bodied, with red scales. Devours any human it encounters, but weeps for them after the deed is done. Also known as the Calcatrix, which apparently was used to refer to crocodiles.

Cassandre: A beast of multiple colours whose pleasant smell attracts most animals but kills snakes. Between these traits and that it’s commonly assumed to be a lynx, it serves as the local version of the medieval “panthers”

 Jancana: Extremely similar to the cantabrian Ojancano and sometimes treated as its female counterpart, while also a separate being. A hideous, deformed, wrinkled ogress with a single eye (plus two small ones in the nape) and either long, messy hair or snakes in place of hair. Can transform into beautiful women or giant snakes; in the latter case they can only return to their true selves after coiling six times around a man then tongue-kissing them. Also just generally rape men and cut off their tongues afterwards.

 Blue-Legs Garrules: Female child-eater that enters houses through the chimney. Sometimes shown as the partner-in-crime of fellow bogeyman Camunyes

 Velludo: “Hairy One” A headless horse that runs across mountains and empty streets at night, perpetually chased by six furious dogs. Said to be the spirit of a muslim king that murdered his sons (which would be the dogs)

 Lobizon: A werewolf present both in Argentina and parts of Portugal, born from a curse that supposedly befalls the seventh son in any family. A pig-like hairy dog, with blazing red eyes and floppy ears. Devours children and carrion but especially craves animal excrement, a diet that renders its human form yellow-skinned and sickly

 Vera Dwarf: Said to live close to a natural fountain, following close whoever approaches to collect water. Those with a good heart are allowed to pass and protected from all harm, but those with bad intentions are mercilessly beaten. Mentioned sometimes to grow in size as they watch over travellers

 Silbán. A long, haired, long-legged giant whose lair was a cave high in a mountain only he could reach. Raided a nearby village to kidnap and devour women with impunity until he fell in love with his latest would-be-victim. She then escaped his clutches and conspired with the villagers to make him drink poisoned milk.

 Cabrichocho: A blue lamb that subsists entirely on sap and butterflies. Hopelessly smitten with human women, to the point it mimics human speech in an attempt to win them over. Its hide is sought after by wizards, for it grants flight to the wearer.

 Docejo: Bird-like being with a single wing, a single eye, and human lips instead of a beak. Drinks only from a specific river (the Jucar) and will in fact die if it ingests water from anywhere else. Loves music, and entertains itself by loudly burping at night.

 Rosemunho: Evil spirit that appears in the form of whirlwind or a dust devil. Pulls travellers within itself only to toss them to their deaths somewhere else. Can be driven off by just throwing a stone or stick in its direction, because it will go hurl that instead.

 Mairu: Giants said to be responsible for the construction of dolmens and other megalithic constructs across the Basque Country. Usually presented as an all-male race, with lamias as their counterpart, but some myths bring up female Mairu (Mairi) noted for their immense strength. Their arm bones – sometimes the entire preserved arm- possess magical properties

 Hodei: Deity embodying storms, hail and thunder, appearing as clouds. Malevolent, brings down lightning to ruin the crops of farmers. Sometimes considered another of the earth goddess Mari and the dragon Sugaar’s many children

 Darro Goblin: A cryptid whose sole witness described it as something between a monkey and a dog that walked on two legs, with an enormous head and exceedingly hairy ears. Gave terrifying screams

 Mialta: Female bogeyman that force-feeds naughty children with pancakes she cooks herself, and which taste absolutely horrid.

 El Pecado: Literally “The Sin”, a massive lizard so named because of its hideousness. Terrorized the village of Ovijuela until Saint Peter arrived and tamed it.

 Cabanyas Lizard: Another huge, man-eating reptile, so strong it tore apart a mountain with a single strike of its tail.

 Trucafort: A giant bogeyman with a beard so dense and long he keeps stepping on it, thus his tremendous howling. Always seen carrying two enormous boulders; one balanced atop his head, another at hand to smash children with.

 Ome Marin: A humanoid covered in scales, with green teeth and sometimes a “mane” of algae. Prowls the coast devouring anything it can catch, including humans, and especially loves messing with and/or destroying fishing boats, ensuring sailors get stranded. Known sometimes to swim upstream and assault women near rivers.

 Frailecillo: “Little Friar” Ugly, hunchbacked goblins with bony arms and massive feet, dressed in long black robes and emitting a greenish or purplish glow. Sleeping during the day, they are sometimes said to be clever and helpful but often they are extremely violent, entering houses to pinch the eyes of children as they sleep, chop off their limbs or sew their buttholes shut.

 Marés: Child-eating octopuses whose embrace is impossible to break free from.

 Xas: Goblin that takes refuge in abandoned windmills. While they won’t enter inhabited houses they delight in throwing rocks at them, as well as harassing livestock and stealing fruit from orchards

 Gizotso: The basque werewolf. Rather than a curse, it is born from forbidden relations between man and animal. Usually wrapped in chains, and very bloodthirsty; the most common tale about them involves one randomly attacking a woman and ripping off her breasts. Always depicted with one of its legs ending in a round stump instead of a paw.

 Guaraguara: Bogeyman of undefined appearance, but sometimes referred to as a “bug”

 Pauet: The ghost of a child that died at the bottom of a well, crying for help that never arrived, and who now pulls others inside in an attempt to cure its loneliness. Other areas have a feminine counterpart in Maria Gancha (something like “Grabby Mary”) who simply snatches children down her well with hooked claws

Beast of the Clamor: A water monster whose terrible roaring could be heard all across the Ebro river. Legend goes a maiden was sacrificed to the beast to appease its wrath, and even though it worked and it was never heard from again, the unlucky maiden’s ghost is said to still haunt the river to this day.

 Joan The Bear: Heroic giant born from a woman raped by an evil bear. Possessing enormous strength and armed with a just-as-massive iron bar, went on to have many adventures alongside a group of similarly-gifted friends – Arrencapins (who could tear the biggest trees off the ground), Escoltin-Escoltaina (who could hear even the smallest noise) Regiramuntaynes (pushes mountains around) and Bufim-Bufaina (could split the clouds by blowing)

 Pardal Verd: A green, sometimes golden bird whose eggs have healing properties. Usually guarded by a giant serpent, and even then you can only ever take one egg.

 Mother Of Fish: Bigger than man and brightly-coloured, like a sea snake with three heads, two tails and big expressive eyes. Intelligent, can speak and appear in the dreams of others in the form of a fairy. Eating her heads makes even the most barren woman bear children, and her tails can be made into swords.

 Papasopas: A bogeyman that shows up to eat the food that naughty children refuse, but for every bite it takes, it will also bite on the children themselves. Also loves eating flies

 Garos: An evil giant that was eventually bested by an entire village and killed by having a nail driven through his nape. His preserved skull was said to heal and invigorate children

 Jan del Gel: A massive, literal snow man. The third of a series of snow children made by an old couple, unable to bear their own. While the first two were exemplary children up until they melted come spring, Jan ate the couple’s entire food storage then left to the mountains. Comes out during blizzards and freezes any children it spots with a glance, to drag them to his frigid cave and devour.

 Orcavella: A fiendish mountain hag that terrorized an entire village, dabbling in the dark arts and eating children for centuries until finally she got tired of living and buried herself alongside a hapless shepherd she had under her control. None could approach despite his screams due to the swarms of snakes protecting the tomb, and they are said to protect it even now.

 White Fox: Self-explanatory, but also has green ears/spots above the eyes and its tail, legs and teeth are entirely black. Feeds on flowers and occasionally stealing lunches from people. Its blood is highly sought after for its magical properties, but whoever meets its gaze feels immense panic.

 Bird of Joy: Crimson-coloured, with green-and-white spots and black wings/beak. Start life as maggots on the White Fox’s body once it dies, eating one another until only one remains and matures. Eagles and other birds of prey give it wide berth. Loses its wings shortly before death, and if anyone pulls out the eyes once its dead, they will see them become magic diamonds.

 Gollut: Hideous, narrow-eyed goblins that supposedly employed dark magic brought bad luck. Actually has a real life basis: Up until the beginning of the 20th century Catalunya housed a small, possibly inbred community plagued by deformities and dwarfism, living in squalor

 Enemiguillo: “Little enemy” Microscopic, invisible goblins under the control of witches and usually held within a bottle. Their attacks express as countless burning bites on the legs and groin

 Sopeira Serpent: A princess transformed into a massive snake by a curse. A knight failed to break it and ultimately killed the princess-serpent, after which her castle sank into the ground, taking with it everyone inside

Since these compilations seem to have gotten kinda popular here’s a bunch more i’ve done before , which started as me trying to help @tyrantisterror pad out his fantasy setting

[megatentious]

Shin Megami Tensei 3 Nocturne is still incredible

I just finished a replay of Shin Megami Tensei 3 for the first time in a decade, so I felt compelled to write a big long unstructured essay about it where I’m going to sound like an overwrought crazy person. That’s okay though. There’s just something about this game that really speaks to those of us who find our way in. When you sound like a hyperbolic cultist writing soaring prose to try to meet the game at its level, it’s not a unique reaction. We’ve all been spellbound in the same way, the game is designed to do it. How is it designed to do this? Basically, in every conceivable way! The music and sound composition, the moment-to-moment battling, the environmental art and location choices, the progression systems for both the protagonist and demon fusions, the scope and method of storytelling, the density and depth of the mythological references, everything fits together like a symphony to inspire these feelings. Tension, immersion (lol), and utter absorption. Nocturne is a clinic in how to structure every aspect of your game around a unified vision (finding the strength to survive in a cruel and barren land) without hugely compromising ambition. That this level of design can be sustained over the course of 50 hours for the average playthrough and 70 for those of us determined to reach the lowest depths of the game’s enormous optional (!) Amala dungeon is insanely remarkable. Some of the more adolescent fans of the Shin Megami Tensei series and the broader Megaten franchise lionize this one in particular as being the most “dark” but that’s a kind of stupid and narrow way of looking at it. If you’re a cool person you don’t love Nocturne because it’s “dark” you love it because the game makes you feel like you’re hallucinating. SMT3 is unconcerned with providing detailed exposition and light-hearted character moments, but it’s a game that is overrun with “story” at every turn. And not just in the environmental, piece-it-together Souls series storytelling sense people love to talk about, there are actually a bunch more NPCs around straight up delivering dialogue for you than you’d think! Pair that up with the demon chatting, the compendium entries, the audiovisual cues and the gorgeously directed cutscenes, and the common complaint that SMT3 has no story just seems like nonsense to me. The game isn’t necessarily just dour or unambiguously somber either. Megami Tensei’s roots are in the pulpy trash of 80s light novels, and you see this in some of the humorous demon-focused crassness, the bits of comedic negotiation dialogue, and the seeming mish-mash of myth as aesthetic influences. But the funny paradox of SMT3 is that it’s a game built on a punk-rock foundation of rebelling against what’s proper and mainstream (see any interview with the creators) that is also simultaneously downright austere by today’s standards. Grand and lonely and visionary in tone, careful, measured and meticulous in its design, without an ounce of bloat, nothing wasted or incoherent, it’s just so impressive on every level (I promise I’ll get more specific with my gushing soon). There’s an attitude among some Megaten fans that Nocturne is the one that doesn’t fit in the series, that it’s too different from previous Shin Megami Tensei games, but I don’t think that’s right. To me there’s a very clear throughline, it’s just Nocturne’s antecedents aren’t necessarily found in its immediate numbered predecessor. When it comes to the main and numbered games in this series, you can very easily see the path from Megami Tensei 2 -> Shin Megami Tensei 2 -> Shin Megami Tensei 4, all of which begin years after the apocalypse has occurred and concern themselves with how society persists and political factions collide decades and even centuries into the aftermath. They are the three most readily described as “cyberpunk”, they’re chattier, they’re a bit more clichéd in their own ways (amnesiac gladiator and military academy recruit openings for SMT2 and SMT4 respectively), they let you use guns and their general sensibilities are similar.  

SMT3’s lineage is, I feel, more directly traced from two other games. SMT1 and (hear me out!) Revelations: Persona. I think it’s easy to link these three games together for several reasons. In all three you begin in relative peace in a current day city, in all three the inciting incident is an occultist ritual, and interestingly in all three the hospital is your first dungeon, deliberately chosen for its uncanny familiarity to create an immediate sense of unease (and also the pretty obvious birth/death location symbolism). These are games centered around the immediacy of disaster and apocalypse, and take modern day locations that are meant to be familiar and subvert them to make them unnerving. Atmosphere is a word I see frequently used to praise all three games (yes there are at least 1 dozens of us, [dozens!] who like Persona 1) and the dream-like, surreal atmosphere in these three games can be strikingly similar. 

So yeah, good lord, Nocturne’s atmosphere. This game is simply filled with astonishing imagery at every point. The art directors managed to make each scene feel somehow weighty and mesmerizing, with aesthetic choices made throughout that are just so thoughtful and cultured. Angels and demons look terrifying and awesome, in that they inspire terror and awe. Gods and goddesses appear benevolent, their facial expressions neutral and lacking in human emotion. Jack Frost remains the best mascot in videogames. There’s well-researched details in the animations and all aspects of appearance (see here for a bit on Baphomet’s posing). The vocal and sonic choices are perfect, like that unsettling blaring soundblast when the statue of Gozu-Tennoh speaks, as if a great and mighty terror is deigning to communicate across worlds.

There are posts that dissect the spiral imagery of the vortex world that repeats over the course of the game. There are entire sites devoted to breaking down the wide range of inspirations for the game's transcendental demon design. Random tumblr people compare the cutscene direction to Ingmar Bergman films, and it’s interesting to see how the cutscenes are frequently in first person or otherwise hide the protagonist, which not only hearkens back to series roots (while saving budget $$$) but also conveys solitude and makes the scenes with multiple demons and figures appear that much more spectacular. On any given day you’ll find a tweet or two or three of people overwhelmed by the game’s aesthetic choices, its virtuoso game over sequence, or title sequence, or pretty much any sequence. It’s the purest expression of a world class artist’s singular vision and is the reason why all of us sound so annoying whining for Kazuma Kaneko to return from his flower field exile.

There’s also a very ingenious way SMT3 supports its themes and that is through the combat. Nocturne is a game about stealing turns. It’s the fundamental principle of the battling, it’s why everyone tells you to keep the skill Fog Breath, and it’s a carryover from the simpler system in SMT1 where the method of stealing turns was using charm bullets or casting Zio to paralyze the enemy before they even have a chance to act. The battle system has a famous Engrish name called “Press Turn,” which is distinct and not to be confused with the One More system from newer Persona games or the alignment based combat bonuses of Strange Journey.

In SMT3, any given press turn encounter depends upon the party composition choices you’ve made, not only the resistances and repels/drains you enter with (two very different things in terms of battle consequences!) but also the moment to moment decision-making of turn management, weighing how to strategically pass to maximize damage output over the course of the fight. Every battle is an opportunity to demonstrate your efficiency and mastery of the systems, and the goal of each encounter is to use foresight and preparation to demolish your foes before they have the chance to even act. Steal turns and survive in a barren land of death upon death, this is the elegance of Press Turn. You’ll hear endless discussion around this game’s difficulty, and encounters generally have teeth to them yeah, but there is a very principled fairness to the battling where combat swings do not occur as dramatically as they do in say, SMT4. SMT3 is balanced perfectly by virtue of its lack of save anywhere option, providing you with tension at all times but also most importantly the tools to mitigate disaster over the long term, which is a deeply deeply rewarding way to survive.

Press Turn’s UI really adds to this rewarding feeling.  How terrifying is it when a boss casts Beast or Dragon Eye, and suddenly a string of new turn icons appear? How satisfying is it to see a row of flashing turns, knowing that you’ve fully exploited your enemy? The enemy composition really accentuates this as well, with encounters often designed to avoid easy spam of single elements or physical skills to mindlessly coast to victory. SMT3 doesn’t want you taking any shortcuts, if you want to take advantage of a given demon or magatama’s skillset, you need to pair your choices to mitigate the corresponding weakness, or the enemy’s AI will press their advantage in the exact way you would. It’s a really satisfying symmetry.

There are also other paths to battle that are just as viable. Exploiting weaknesses with a multipurpose magic build is another way to steal turns. Building battlers around skills that maximize critical hits is another way. And if you are terrified of the infamous one-shot deaths that people like to say are the franchise trademark? Equip null-death magatama in between level ups. Raise your luck. Resolve battles before enemies even have the chance to use the spell against you. Raise your speed so enemies don’t get the chance to go first. Get endure as soon as possible. The tools for success are all right there for you! Nocturne tasks you with growing strong enough in this world to ascend to creation, and it provides you with multiple paths to reach this goal.

So, about these multiple paths, let me talk to you a bit about SMT3’s famously unique alignment system. Other games are lauded for their ultimately fairly stupid morality systems but Nocturne breezily operates on a completely different level. Instead of RESCUE and HARVEST in dumb giant gothic font or literally color-coded paragon and renegade meters, in SMT3 you align yourself naturally through story progression with factions concerned with stillness, power, solitude, freedom, or rebellion. Instead of the grand binary moral choice being telegraphed through hideous-looking “Little Sisters” (god I hated that stupid name haha) there’s a rough analogue in  the actually sympathetic but far more complex unsettling-looking Manikins, whose character motif is described by the creators as representing those who lose themselves to the strength of numbers. There’s unfortunately a tiny amount of material in the game to support extremely tedious “canon” discussion, but the game actually works best and most purely as an abstract, impressionistic vision of grand universal themes. Playing through any one of SMT3’s six endings makes the universe feel vast and overwhelming, and asks you to contend with a broader suite of philosophies than ‘good’ or ‘bad,’ and that’s ultimately what I think the developers were most interested in going for.

Something about the prose in Nocturne is also special in a way that is extremely difficult to accurately describe. Like everything else in this game it feels elegant and detached, gods and goddesses are appropriately otherworldly without sounding like haughty stereotypes, lower demons are funny and crass in a way that’s not so on-the-nose. Again it’s very difficult to pinpoint but something has been lost in the writing of the newer games, even a bit as small as how angels and demons in the game actually never name anything directly as God, but instead refer obliquely to a Lord, an Absolute, or a Great Will, Nocturne just gets all the little details right.

As I run out of steam from this braindump, I notice there’s still an essay’s worth of observations in so many other topics that deserve to be discussed. The Tokyo-focused but somehow universal theming of the game’s alignment principles and locale visuals. The insanely expansive but unfortunately compressed soundtrack (see over three hours of unreleased material alone here), where dungeon music regularly evolves to indicate progression, and battle and boss music quantity is generously varied both between and within song. The extremely rewarding fusion system can be plumbed to frankly insane depths, with a demon bestiary that is reasonable to 100%, and the lack of “use it or lose it” demon quality that hits other SMT series games contributing to a better feeling of progression and customization opportunities. The demon negotiation, which rewards your knowledge of mythological connections among pantheons with unique one-time only dialogue. The dungeons, the DUNGEONS. With the exception of an early set of sewers, an apparent shitty dungeon theme RPG tradition, each of these are little masterpieces of aesthetics and design, with their own thoughtfully introduced and iterated gimmick, planned wonderfully for both third and first person, often wrapping in and around themselves in spirals in that very Shin Megami Tensei-specific way.

Even if you think a game like Nocturne seems too dense or impenetrable or boring or random-encounter filled or whatever, it’s worth giving it a real shot for yourself to see if it manages to grab you. We’re no longer in those days in the late 2000s where the game cost exorbitant amounts of money to get, a digital version can be found on PS3 for $10 (with only rare emulation issues in certain dungeon sections), and the disc itself was reprinted and can be found brand new on Amazon if you have a PS2 or want to emulate on PCSX2, where the game looks even more breathtaking. Either way, find a way to treat yourself to an RPG where it is actually appropriate to throw around the term masterpiece. I didn’t really write any of this text no one’s going to read to make a persuasive case to anyone, but sometimes games will inspire you and it feels good to ramble about them. Games like this one are nearly impossible to make nowadays, and SMT3 is something worth cherishing.

#smt3 #nocturne #smt nocturne #unparalleled #why doesn't that last gif work here oh well

[theolddarkmachine]

Kingdom- Ch 8

Gajeel has had the dream about dying for the blue haired girl for as long as he can remember. Which is weird, since he’s never met anyone with blue hair in his life.

Levy has always loved myths and legends. So much so, in fact, that she was currently getting her master’s in mythological studies.

What neither of them realized was that they were living a legend all their own.

AKA the one with a knight, a princess, and a curse that keeps bringing them together just to pull them apart.

PREVIOUS CHAPTERS

AO3

Commission by Blue

WOOHOOOOO NOVEMBER UPDATE IS UP! Again, I feel I need to apologize for cutting back so much on updates during the holidays. It was necessary though because I definitely needed to focus on the 12 Days of ODM. AAAAND even better news, it’s paying off because 7 out of 12 are completed!

I hope that you find this update worth it. Actual notes in my notebook about this chapter: This is the step before the top of the rollercoaster hill.

So I’m hoping y'all are starting to get that feeling right before the coaster pitches ya over the hill, cuz that’s where we’re at lol Friendly reminder this is still on a semi-hiatus while I work on 12 Days of ODM and SS stuff. Next update will be some time in December once those are done. Then we return to weekly updates :)

*********************************

Consciousness crested over Gajeel like an incoming tide, ebbing over his body slowly like waves until he was wholly aware of the light painting the backs of his eyelids red and the cool dampness of a cloth across his forehead. A thick fog was still working his way through his mind, accompanied by a manufactured silence that did nothing to sooth the sudden spike of her nerves. How did he get there? Just a moment before he was certain he’d been speaking with Lily.

And then—

His gasp was a sharp intake that tore through his throat and chest like a beast as he sat upright, knocking the cooled fabric from his forehead to his lap as his eyes flew open.

It was real.

The dream and all its reoccurrences, hadn’t been a creation of his own imagination, but memories of a life he’d once lived. This time, instead of the all too familiar darkness that he had grown accustomed to, he’d been met with vivid images of a king, of an order, and of the beautiful blue haired woman that he’d fallen in love with. He could almost still feel the weight of her head on his chest. Could still taste her on his tongue. She had been his.

And if that was the truth, he had also died. In fact, he had died for her.

Save her.

Gajeel’s hand shook as he ran it through his hair, a small, nervous sound escaping him as his mind raced to accept the impossible nature of it all. Somehow, he was the knight that had appeared before him in his bathroom.

Somehow, he had died.

Though the certainty of the truth was crackling in his veins like a lightning storm, he was still unsure of the nature that had caused it to be so. Even now, as he tried to reach the memory of his death, he was met by a wall that stopped any progress.

With an aggravated huff, Gajeel grabbed the cloth from his lap and threw it across the room, ignoring the wet slap of the fabric against the wall. He needed answers. Needed to find the end to the maze the stood between him and the explanation as to how he had lived a life centuries ago.

A small cough dragged him back from the brink of his entangled thoughts as he turned towards the sound, only to see Lily sitting in a chair that he’d set next to the couch. His corded arms were crossed over his chest as he looked over his adopted brother, an eyebrow raised as he appraised him. As if he had any right to scrutinize.

I’m sorry, Gajeel.

The sharp sting of betrayal wore a blunt hole in his chest as he returned the stare. In all the years that they had known each other, and all the times they’d spoken of the strange dream, Lily had never said anything. Instead, he’d offered false explanations and possibilities all the while holding the truth behind the recurrent vision close.

“How long have you known?” Gajeel asked, the question burning his throat with the acidic suspicion that dripped from every word. Lily held his glare, meeting it with one of unabashed honesty. Before him sat the best friend and brother he had grown to know, and yet they sat regarding each other like strangers. There was a moment’s pause before lily sighed, the very breath leaving in one long rush of sound that seemed to deflate him.

“I’ve always known, Gajeel,” he said, not looking away as he kept his voice steady. It was the same pitch and even cadence that one might use when speaking to a wild animal. Gajeel wondered if Lily thought he might bite.

Hell, he wondered the same.

They continued to regard each other, a hundred questions flinging themselves silently into the ever growing distance that seemed to carve deeper and further between them. It was as his gaze danced over his adopted brother in an attempt to pull the answers straight from his head, that he noticed the bruise like shadows that had etched themselves under his eyes.

‘’We’re protectors, me and my family,” Lily began to speak again once he realized Gajeel wasn’t going to ask another question. As much as he wanted to, he didn’t even know where to start. How was he even supposed to begin to ask the man before him to unravel the lies that had made up the fabric of his life? Even if Gajeel himself knew which thread to begin to pull, he wasn’t even sure he would. The sharp tang of fear coated the back of his tongue at the mere thought of confirming what he already knew.

Everything he knew was a lie.

“Liam was the first. He’d been best friends with the Black Dragon, son of the Iron Dragon.” His voice was almost dream like as he spoke, reciting the words like an all too familiar mantra that had been told to him over and over again. Lily’s eyes glinted in the light as they flashed upwards toward his face.

“With you,” he rectified. “He had been a stableboy at the castle, and you had saved him from some boys that thought their status set them above him. Which, while true, didn’t seem to bother you much.”

A dark chuckle escaped him as he shook his head, the weight of the tale apparent in the way his shoulders dipped.

“But then the king ordered you to leave. To protect a woman without any knowledge of who she was, only that you must keep her safe. Thing was, he didn’t plan on you falling in love. At least, as far as the story goes.” Lily shrugged before he leant forward, forearms bracing over his knees as his onyx eyes searched Gajeel’s crimson as if in search of something.

Something that would expose any familiarity to the memories that belonged to him, told from side of someone that didn’t live them. Yet the only recognition he could find, was hidden in the light blue hair that had haunted his dreams, pulled him in front of a vehicle, and splayed across his pillow.

“Bits and pieces of the tale have been lost in translation and changed so much over time that I can’t tell you how it happened, but you both ended up cursed.”

Gajeel felt the breath catch in his chest, the suddenness of it opening a burning hole behind his sternum. Almost as soon as Lily had spoken the word, he knew recalled the sharp sound of bitter laughter and the oppressive weight as darkness had descended on him, only punctuated by the searing pain in his chest.

“What was the curse?” He asked, voice a barely above a whisper as he tried to speak over the stone that had cut off his breath. Gajeel watched as Lily sighed, bringing both his hands up towards his hair and carding his fingers through it, pausing momentarily with his head held up by his palms. It wasn’t until he looked back up that he answered.

“To relive finding each other, only to lose one another again.”

Unease opened up in his gut like a beast freed of shackles, tearing into the soft flesh with the intent to destroy. His dreams had always pointed him towards love. As his consciousness had faded away into what he now knew was death, his last thoughts were always of golden eyes and sky filled hair. The ill omen had even disguised itself in the mirror vision, those two haunting words falling from his doppleganger’s lips as his ruby stare cut through him.

Save her.

Only now, he heard the edge of the words that gave them a darker, more sinister feel. Save her, but at what cost?

How many times had he saved her, and died in the process?

Had he ever even saved her at all?

Gajeel pushed the aching throb in his throat down just long enough to get out his next words, already knowing their answer but needing to hear it anyway. It wouldn’t be real until he heard it. Shuffling where he sat so that he was now turned fully towards Lily so he could fix him with his unwavering gaze, he bit out the only question that mattered.

“Is it Levy?”

Time stopped around them, its constant movement stalled by the simple question. He felt the weight of it, crushing down around his shoulders as the images from the dream beat against the inside of his skull. Her hands. Her lips. The softness of her in his arms. Fear as it corroded his veins. Pain, as it tore the very life from within him.

What was mere seconds had opened up into an endless stasis in which the only things left moving were Gajeel’s innermost thoughts and Lily’s downturning mouth.

With his heart hammering a dent into the back of his ribs, he waited for the answer that would be the nail in his own coffin. When they finally came, they were filled with the same rasp of a man taking his final breath.

“Yes. And she will kill you.”

***

Levy jolted from the dream as if she’d been shocked from the depths of her slumber by an unseen force that ran an electric current through her body. Her skin was heated and flushed as she worked to catch her breath, somehow lost to her as if she’d been running instead of sleeping with her cheek pressed against the cool surface of her desk. Even her throat ached, as if it had been torn with the screams that had filled her dream.

The experience had been harrowing, one moment she was in her room and the next she had been swallowed into an inky darkness before finding herself thrust into the foreign feel of her own body.

Only, it wasn’t really her body.

She had found herself a spectator while trapped within the confines of her imagined self, watching the love story between the maiden and the knight play out before her eyes. Levy had watched as Gajeel’s eyes had softened as he’d looked at her. Seen the way his careful touches became caresses that evolved into so much more. She’d even felt the ever present growth of a new star trapped behind her ribs each time she had returned the affections.

Everything had been good, and pure, and light.

Then Levy watched as it became corrupted and twisted, the pain of it too much to bear as the dream faded from scene to scene until the finale, where she was clutching Gajeel to her chest as blood rushed from a gaping wound in his chest. The aching throb of her anguish was only amplified when she realized that the dagger that had dealt the fatal wound was clutched within her fist.

It had been the sinister glint of the light on the blade that had sent her reeling through whatever darkness had pulled her into the dream in the first place and dropped her back into the real world. Gulping down large breaths, Levy pulled both of her hands through her hair in a failed attempt at collecting herself.

With her heart still stuttering, she looked down at the book that still lay open before her, the painted pictures pointed upwards to the sky in a frozen scene from the dream. A small hiss escaped her as she slammed the cover shut before pushing herself away from the desk. Dropping her head against the back of her chair, Levy squeezed her eyes shut as she pinched the bridge of her nose between her fingers.

There’s a perfectly good explanation for this, she thought to herself, desperately clutching at rationality to keep herself afloat.

It was pure coincidence that Levy had made a connection between her and the blue haired woman in the book, and Gajeel and the night. He had been an object of her attention for long enough that it only made sense her mind would find similarities where there weren’t any. After all, it was one thing to believe the stories she studied could have actually happened. It was another entirely to be living one.

Yet, it had all felt real. So real that Levy could still smell the greenery that had surrounded the hut that they’d lived in. Could still hear his words as they’d caressed the shell of her ear while he had exchanged his own stories with her. She could even still feel the heat of him from where he’d lay dying in her arms.

There was no way the dream had really been her memories.

And yet—

Three sharp raps against her door shook her of the impossible thoughts that were swirling in and around her mind like fog. Feet rubbing over the carpet of her floor, Levy pulled herself towards the knocking that sounded again, impatiently again as it repeated its sharp cadence. She wasn’t expecting anyone, but one guess would place Lucy on the other side of the door. Most likely, she’d be standing there looking sheepish, as if she hadn’t left Levy completely wasted at a bar.

If her brain wasn’t in the middle of liquifying, she would probably make Lucy work for her forgiveness. Be that as it may, she no longer had it in her to fight over what was considered abandonment with her best friend. All she wanted were answers that the blonde would not be able to give her.

“Look, Luce, you’re already forgiven,” she spoke as she flung the door open only to find the words sticking to the inside of her throat as she realized that the person on the other side was not her best friend. Where crystalline blue eyes should have been looking down at her, instead, she was only met by an endless pool of violet.

Levy exhaled a short, surprised noise between her teeth before she spoke.

“Hi, Aunt Kearia.”

*******************

#gajevy #Gajeel X Levy #Gajeel Redfox #Levy McGarden #fairy tail #fairy tail fanfiction #kingdom #YAAAAAAS #AND I GOT THE COMMISSION LINK ON THERE #sighs loudly cuz writing this came so easily and im so :3c

[kittypeas]

The Force Awakens and fairytales: part two. Prince Lindworm.

This is the second and (probably) last part or my essay “The Force Awakens and Fairytales”. This time I wanted to describe the Norwegian folktale about Prince Lindworm (which can you read HERE) which, in my opinion, is the most accurate summary of Kylo/Ben & Rey relationship. First, I will discuss a theoretical framework and concepts that I will need to conduct proper analysis of the parallels between TFA and “Prince Lindworm”. But don’t get discouraged! Throughout this essay I will continuously get back to the movie.

Some time ago Pablo Hidalgo tweeted that „long time ago in a galaxy far away” should be read as a begenning of a fairy tale. Surely it means more than just a fact that every movie in Star Wars trilogies is similar to popular tales like Snow White or the Beauty and the Beast. A myth or a folktale is, as Karen Armstrong describes it “in some sense is an occurrence that happened once and happens over and over again”, because it takes place inside each of us when we read, adapt and reenact it. “Mythology, just like poetry and music, should open us to a sense of wonder, even in the face of death or a threat of annihilation.”

This notion reminds me of your posts that I see frequently on my dash: those where you described how reylo helps you in dealing with difficulties, how you find yourself in various traits displayed by the characters, how they can voice your feelings and thoughts. Because every fairytale has also a therapeutic aspect, which manifests itself in the said sense of wonder, described by Rudolf Otto as a numinotic experience. Numinosum is an encounter with Mysterium tremendum et fascinans:

Mysterium which is a source for the English word “mystery” has its roots in Greek “mysterion” which originates from “myein” which can be traced in “mustism”, a condition in which a person is deprived of an ability to speak. Mysterium is a superhuman revelation which we experience in silence because it is both tremendum, as you can guess – tremendous, terrible – and fascinans, fascinating. Igen wrote:

“Our religions and psychotherapies offer frames of reference for processing unbearable agonies, and perhaps, also, unbearable joys. At times, art or literature brings the agony-ecstasy of life together in a pinnacle of momentary triumph. Good poems are time pellets, offering places to live emotional transformations over lifetimes. There are moments of processing, pulsations that make life meaningful, as well as mysterious. But I think these aesthetic and religious products gain part of their power from all the moments of breakdown that went into them.”

There is an intimate relationship between the numinosum and trauma, often conceptualized as a rupture in continuity of personal narrative. On the other hand, experiencing the numinosum –through physically inconsequential process of identfication with fairy – tales characters and participation in their adventures as well as struggles – is a factor that could restore unity to individual’s inner world. To paraphrase Kalsched’s claim: a fairytale describes psyche’s self-portrait of its own archaic defensive operations; in other words, it illustrates a psychological process and even though the events from a fairy tale never took place the material world, they take place inside any of us during the lecture. The Force Awakens, just like the story of a dragon or a snake Lindworm is an example of a type of story about a traumatic event, dissociation or a fissure in personality, and the need for internal integration. In this sense the only hero of the story is Prince Lindworm – or Kylo Ren, whose ego (i.e. self) breaks, or is dissociated.

“I’m being torn apart. I want to be free of this pain”

In TFA it happens when Ben Solo symbolically kills his former self and gives himself a new name. He tells Han that “his son is dead” but you know that it is not true and those two identities are alive and at war with themselves. In the story about Prince Lindworm this division is marked in the moment of his birth. Lindworm was one of the pair of twins. Cirlot writes in his book of symbols: “dual nature of twins has two sides, one light and one dark, one giving life and the other bringing death; […] However, the night craves to become the day, evil admires righteousness, life is heading towards death.” This duality often serves a certain narrative purpose and can, for example, be used to avoid the taboo of parricide, like in “Enchanted doe” where one of the brothers kills their mother. In The Force Awakens it is not Ben Solo, Han’s son who murders him, but alien to him Kylo Ren.

It is said in the beginning of the tale that “And this [that they couldn’t have children] often made them both sad, because the Queen wanted a dear little child to play with, and the King wanted an heir to the kingdom”. Then, it is quite possible that the duality of twins is used to illustrate the process in which all unacceptable affects – anger, aggression, defiance – are placed not in the firstborn son but in his shadow, his evil brother. What supports this thesis is the fact that after the happy ending another wedding is prepared but not a word is spoken about Lindworm’s brother. In TFA Kylo Ren represents the same qualities as Lindworm, while Ben Solo is a boy who was born to the light.

This is not the only split visible in the characters of the narratives. The “Prince Lindworm” fairytale belongs to quite popular type which describe the story of monsters which hunt innocent girls, like Bluebeard, the Beauty and The beast and almost all vampire stories.

Their common point is the motive of a malevolent figure, abducting and captivating defenseless woman. What seems most interesting, is that every time a vampire, a sorcerer, or a terrifying creature is both a persecutor and a savior. In the fairy tale of Bluebeard, the protagonist wants to test his wife, but instructs her how she can get out of his jail. Similarly Count Dracula, who in the Coppola’s adaptation allows the woman and the men protecting her to catch him. As Suzy McKee Charnas writes in the "vampire tapestry": the monster is a "predator paralyzed by an unwanted empathy with his prey".

The titular vampire of the story recalls yet another fairy tale, when he accuses the main character that she wants to seduce him. He mocks her, saying: “Unicorn, come lay your head in my lap while the hunters close in. You are a wonder, and for love of wonder I will tame you. You are pursued, but forget your pursuers, rest under my hand till they come and destroy you"  That's where the title of this novel came from, and this is what medieval tapestries and paintings depict.  Nowadays we think a unicorn is a beautiful, enchanting horse. Once upon a time it belonged to the catalog of wild beasts and in many works of art it is depicted as a dangerous predator, tearing animals and people into pieces.

The ‘Hellsing” manga describes vampires as follows:

It seems that in the depths of his heart the creature from a fairytale wants to be killed. The human part of the monster is suffering because of the terrible fate he was condemned to.  It is the girl who impersonates this dissociated, human element of the monster who wants to be defeated and liberated by death.

“You, a scavenger”

Typically, these women are described as virgins or poor peasants – which in the “Prince Lindworm” tale is underlined many times – the narrator often speaks of their bare feet, as in the Snow Queen tales in which Gerda sets out barefoot to the snowy land to save her beloved Kay from Snow Queen. The Lapland shaman says about her: “I can not give her more power than she already has. Can not you see how great she is? You do not see how men and animals are obliged to serve her; How she travels the whole world with bare feet? This power does not come from the magic, it comes from her heart!…”

Still, the bare feet of heroines or their virginity do not symbolize - as we would expect - their innocence. On unicorn tapestries there is often a scene in which a unicorn sleeps in a woman's embrace, and then the hunter's arrows reach him. In this situation, the victim puts her persecutor in a mortal danger. Similarly, Rey is “no one”, lowly scavenger from a desert planet, uncivilized and uneducated. But she is the one who brings the prince to his knees.

At the end of the story, it is said: " No bride was ever so beloved by a King and Queen as this peasant maid from the shepherd’s cottage. There was no end to their love and their kindness towards her: because, by her sense and her calmness and her courage, she had saved their son, Prince Lindworm”. Stories about young men tell about their courage that helped them in the process of becoming a hero; correspondingly, the girl from “Prince Lindworm” is not fearless, but brave when she decides to oppose the hideous snake, or, in case of Rey, to defy someone who might as well be a monster under his mask. When the girl says "Prince Lindworm, slough a skin!" (just like Rey when she wants Kylo to take his helmet off) he replies, " No one has ever dared tell me to do that before". He hissed and showed her teeth, but the girl was not afraid (“you! You are afraid…!”) and persuaded him to do as she commanded. At first we do not know if Lindworm, outraged by her impudence, will not eat her alive, but there is  this part of Lindworm which wants to obey and – by revealing his weakness to the girl – make him mortal, easy to hurt. And indeed, "And there was nothing left of the Lindworm but a huge thick mass, most horrible to see. Then the girl seized the whips, dipped them in the lye, and whipped him as hard as ever she could. Next, she bathed him all over in the fresh milk. Lastly, she dragged him on to the bed and put her arms round him. And she fell fast asleep that very moment. "

As it has been said, girl’s compassion is the key to Lindworm's transformation but before this act is completed, "the girl confronts Lindworm with his violence on his own terms." Only after reflecting and recognizing his - and consequently her own - destructiveness and aggression (just the way Rey did during the duel on Starkiller Base), the prince-monster is bathed in milk – which symbolizes the milk of his mother – and can be born anew – so he can lay in the arms of woman. Bettelheim said: "If we do not want to be ruled and - in extreme cases – torn apart by our ambivalences, we must recognize them, deal with them in a constructive manner and reconcile with ourselves and our personalities."

Her grief is nothing more but the mercy shown to a monster by a man in him. It is then that the integration of his "ego" with the numinosum happens. As Anna Freud wrote, "The most pressing task of man is to resurrect what he has annihilated in a defensive reaction, i.e. recreate what has been repressed, return to the previous place what has been displaced what he moved, to return to the old place, and integrate what he dissociated.”

 It seems that Ben Solo has a lot work to do! ;)

#Rey #Kylo #kylo ren #kylo x rey #kylo ren x rey #reylo #meta #star wars #Star Wars The Force Awakens #the last jedi #snoke #supreme leader snoke

[oliviarthomasba2a]

Historical Bestiary

At the centre of Greek mythology is the pantheon of deities who were said to live on Mount Olympus, the highest mountain in Greece. From their perch, they ruled every aspect of human life. Olympian gods and goddesses looked like men and women (though they could change themselves into animals and other things) and were–as many myths recounted–vulnerable to human foibles and passions. I’ve decided to have a look into the historical creation of bestiary/beasts and how and where it is said to have begun. Looking into this will give me a better understanding of how the process began and potentially why. 

It’s thought that bestiaries originated in the ancient world, and were particularly popular in the Middle Ages in illustrated volumes that described various animals and even rocks. 

A moral lesson normally accompanied the history and illustration of each beast, suggesting that the reason they were made in the first place was to teach lessons. These lessons may have served a purpose in genuinely teaching values - however, may have also been used as a way to inflict societies views and what was depicted as the social norms and expectations on the people of those times. 

This type of lesson can be seen in many classic fairytales, for example in the traditional telling of ‘Red Riding Hood’also known as: ‘The Grandmother’s Tales’, there’s no red hood (or cap). The wolf is a ‘bzou’ (werewolf) and the unnamed girl must choose between 2 paths: the path of pins (virtue) or needles - needles being a symbol of ‘penetration’. The wolf also being used as a symbol as a ‘sexual predator’, this particularly seen in ‘The Company of Wolves’ (1984, dir. Neil Jordan).

Most evidence suggests that early folktales were shared amongst adults, not children. They had serious meanings and contained important ritualistic elements.

The clear polarity between good and evil acted as a warning of what might happen if you strayed from the righteous path.

The medieval period was intensely religious. In western Europe, the religion was Christianity; in North Africa and the Middle East, it was primarily Islam. The Jews and their religion were found almost everywhere, living among Christians and Muslims, sometimes tolerated, sometimes not.

Therefore these lessons had strong religious meaning and reflected the belief that the world itself was the word of god and every living thing had its own special meaning. For example, the pelican, which was believed to tear open its breast to bring its young to life with its own blood, was a living representation of Jesus. The bestiary, then, is also a reference to the symbolic language of animals in Western Christian art and literature. 

This article all about medieval bestiary describes this religious link even further. 

The earliest bestiary in the form in which it was later popularized was an anonymous 2nd century Greek volume called the Physiologus, which itself summarized ancient knowledge and wisdom about animals in the writings of classical authors such as Aristotle's Historia Animalium and various works by Herodotus, Pliny the Elder, Solinus, Aelian and other naturalists. 

When it came to fabulous animals like the unicorn, dragon or griffin, the illustrator had no choice but to follow the descriptions or earlier drawings. Whether medieval people believed that such creatures really existed is debatable; some undoubtedly did (as some still do today), while others recognized them as the product of human imagination.

http://bestiary.ca/beasts/beastalphashort.htm - list of beasts.

Greek Mythology 

“Myth has two main functions,” the poet and scholar Robert Graves wrote in 1955. “The first is to answer the sort of awkward questions that children ask, such as ‘Who made the world? How will it end? Who was the first man? Where do souls go after death?’…The second function of myth is to justify an existing social system and account for traditional rites and customs.” In ancient Greece, stories about gods and goddesses and heroes and monsters were an important part of everyday life. They explained everything from religious rituals to the weather, and they gave meaning to the world people saw around them.

There’s no single original text like the Christian Bible for Greek mythology that introduces all of the myths’ characters and stories. 

Rather in the Bronze Age, the earliest Greek myths were part of an oral tradition, and their plots and themes unfolded gradually in the written literature of the archaic and classical periods. 

Monsters:

Human heroes–such as Heracles, Pandora, Pygmalion, Arachne and more feature in many of the tales, however monsters and “hybrids” (human-animal forms) also feature prominently in the tales: the winged horse Pegasus, the horse-man Centaur, the lion-woman Sphinx and the bird-woman Harpies, the one-eyed giant Cyclops, automatons (metal creatures given life by Hephaistos), manticores and unicorns, Gorgons, pygmies, minotaurs, satyrs and dragons of all sorts. 

Many of these creatures have become almost as well known as the gods, goddesses and heroes who share their stories. In the tales: the winged horse Pegasus, the horse-man Centaur, the lion-woman Sphinx and the bird-woman Harpies, the one-eyed giant Cyclops, automatons (metal creatures given life by Hephaistos), manticores and unicorns, Gorgons, pygmies, minotaurs, satyrs and dragons of all sorts. Many of these creatures have become almost as well known as the gods, goddesses and heroes who share their stories.

Disney has adapted the tales and story of Hercules into their own film that features many of the mythological creatures in the tales. Below is an example of the Hydra - a serpentine water monster that possessed many heads, the exact number of which varies according to the source. Later versions of the Hydra story add a regeneration feature to the monster: for every head chopped off, the Hydra would regrow two heads. 

#bestiary

[hogwartslessons-blog]

Mythology| Thursday. June 28th, 2018| Lesson Nine: Greco-Roman Heroes and Voyagers

Your first question might be, what is the difference between a hero and a voyager? In truth, not much. Many heroes were voyagers, and many voyagers were heroes. The basic difference is that a voyager went on a long (time or distance wise) journey. That journey did not necessarily have a quest attached to it, as we will see in the story of Odysseus. Heroes, on the other hand, completed great quests or near-impossible tasks generally for the greater good.

Heracles

Heracles and the Hydra

Let’s begin by looking at arguably the most famous of all the Greco-Roman heroes: Heracles (Roman: Hercules). Heracles was, as many of the heroes of the time were, a direct offspring of one of the gods. In this case, Heracles was fathered by Zeus himself, as Zeus needed an offspring strong enough to battle the giants - which we’ll talk about more in our next lesson! The only problem with Zeus’ plan was the intense rage and hatred his wife Hera felt towards Heracles as he was further proof of Zeus’ infidelities.

Through a course of twisted plans and machinations, Hera managed to drive Heracles mad enough to kill his first wife and children. This horrifying action resulted in Heracles being bound to King Eurystheus, who in turn assigned him twelve seemingly impossible tasks in order to repent for his actions. These tasks ranged from killing beasts such as the Nemean Lion and the Hydra, retrieving mystical items such as the apples of the Hesperides and the girdle of Hippolyta (Queen of the Amazons), and labour intensive works such as the cleaning of the thousands of Augean stables in one day. Heracles completed each and every one of these tasks and so was cleansed of the guilt of the murders he had committed.

The twelve labours were not Heracles’ only acts of valour - there were many, many more feats that included rescuing people from the underworld, righting perceived wrongs, and protecting those who could not protect themselves. But for all his greatness, Heracles’ greatest failing was his intelligence, or lack thereof. Don’t get me wrong, if you needed to figure out how to kill a dangerous creature, Heracles was your guy and he would not hesitate to do so. Quite simply, Heracles was very passionate, quick to anger, and almost always repenting for some hasty action that resulted in the death of someone around him.

In a sense, Heracles’ vulnerabilities were what made him the ultimate hero - he still had some human elements to him. So strong was the Greco-Roman belief in his protection of the weak that his name was invoked in numerous protection spells and rituals as both Muggles and Wizards alike believed that doing so would incur his blessing and strengthen the magic.

Another interesting magical aspect to Heracles’ life is actually in the story of his death. When his second wife Deianeira erroneously believes that he has become unfaithful, she sends him a cloak soaked in the blood of the centaur Nessus, who told her it was a love potion. Deianeira was a bit dense, as Nessus gave this cloak to her as he was dying from a wound that Heracles himself had inflicted. While the blood on the cloak did not kill Heracles directly, it caused him immeasurable pain. He consulted with the Oracle at Delphi, who instructed him on how he could die - by lying in a funeral pyre. When Heracles climbed onto the pyre, Zeus sent a thunderbolt to collect him and make him a god alongside his father.

Now, it’s known that Centaur’s blood is in no way poisonous. Suffice to say that the blood was most likely some sort of potion. The potion may have contained Centaur’s blood as an ingredient, but the blood itself was not the poison. Nonetheless, it was so potent as to cause Heracles enough pain that death was preferable.

Jason

The argo

Our second myth surrounds Jason and the Argonauts. While Jason could be seen as a hero undertaking a quest, he is more considered a Voyager as the result of his quest was not entirely successful, as we will soon see.

Jason was a contemporary of Heracles and had been hidden away as his uncle Pelias had overthrown Jason’s father to rule the kingdom. When he came of age, he journeyed back to his father’s kingdom to reclaim the throne that was rightfully his father’s. Along the way, he managed to slay various brigands and beasts, and arrived with many great feats already to his name.

Pelias was afraid that Jason could forcibly take the throne from him, and so concocted a trial for Jason to prove his worthiness before he would give up the throne. This trial was to claim the Golden Fleece from King Aetes - a treasure guarded by a dragon in a kingdom far away. Jason agreed to the plan, and Pelias figured he would never see his nephew again. Once Jason had left, he killed Jason’s father and Jason’s mother died from grief.

The gods, however, were on Jason’s side, especially the goddess Hera. He consulted the oracles before he left, and they not only determined when he should sail, but also assisted in the creation of his ship, the Argo. The Argo was the largest ship to have been built at that time, and was said to have the ability to both navigate and prophecize itself. Now that would have been a piece of magic!

The Argonauts, those young men who joined Jason on his exciting adventure included Orpheus (who you may recall from Ancient Studies last year), the brothers Castor and Pollux (who incidentally were also brothers to the famous Helen of Troy), Achilles’ father Peleus, and several others. Perhaps the most famous was Heracles; however he had a slight misadventure early into the expedition where his shield-bearer was lost and his grief sent him on another impassioned yet pointless search, forcing the Argo to leave him behind.

After several adventures and misadventures (there were Harpies involved. It was messy.), the remaining Argonauts arrived in Colchis, the country where the Golden Fleece could be found. Meeting King Aetes went about as could be expected. He was infuriated at the thought of giving the Golden Fleece to the Greeks, no matter their exchange of whatever tasks he could possibly wish for them to complete. He concocted a plan not unlike the twelve labours of Heracles for Jason to complete, and Jason agreed even though he suspected the tasks would lead to his own death.

Fortunately for Jason, Hera had been pulling some strings in the heavens with Aphrodite, and the latter’s son Cupid had struck King Aetes’ daughter Medea with an arrow causing her to fall in love with Jason. Luckily for Jason, Medea was a witch of unparalleled skill in her time and she used all of her wits and power, plus a few potions, to help Jason tame a wild bull, and best a dragon.

King Aetes was furious when Jason managed to complete the tasks and secure the Fleece. He chased after Jason and the Argonauts as they fled back to the Argo. Medea, who had fled with the Argonauts bringing her brother along, killed her brother and cut off his limbs, forcing their father to stop and pick up the pieces (for no body could be buried missing any parts). As a result, Medea and the Argonauts successfully evaded Aetes and began their journey home.

Both Medea and Hera assisted the Argo’s safe return to Greece, however their return was not triumphant. Jason discovered the death of his parents by Pelias’ treachery, and begged Medea to help him avenge their deaths. Medea did so in quite a horrible way. She brewed a deep sleeping potion and convinced Pelias’ daughters to cut him up into tiny pieces so Medea could cast a spell to restore his youth. So tricked, the daughters unintentionally killed their own father, and avenged Jason’s parents.

Alas, Medea’s plan caused her and Jason to flee from the kingdom to Corinth as they had just murdered a king themselves. And the tragedy only continued from there. Jason eventually fell in love with another woman, and Medea sought out her revenge by not only killing Jason’s new bride, but also the two sons that she had borne Jason. Jason came charging after her to kill her, but Medea leaped onto a chariot driven by two dragons and escaped, leaving him to his sorrow.

And so the story of Jason ends, but not the story of Medea - watch for her as we discuss Theseus at the end of this lecture - as she is a fascinating, and possibly real, historical witch from Greco-Roman times.

Perseus and Medusa's Head

After two rather sad stories full of suffering and the death of children, let’s turn our focus to one of the Greek heroes who did actually have a happy ending.

Odysseus

Odysseus and the Suitors

Our second-to-last myth centers around Odysseus, who was both a Hero and a Voyager. He was also both brilliant and very, very unlucky at the same time.

As a hero, Odysseus was the prime example of a strategist during the ten year long Trojan war. It was he who concocted the plan to build the Trojan horse and hide inside - risking death if the Trojans had decided to torch their gift. Fortunately for Odysseus and the Greeks, the plan worked, Troy was destroyed, and Helen reclaimed for Menelaus, King of Sparta.

Unfortunately, it seems that many of the Greeks became rather full of themselves and forgot their promises to the sea god Poseidon and the goddess Athena who had helped them in their fight against Troy. As the city burned to the ground, some of the Greeks raided the sacred temples of the gods. In Athena’s temple, a Greek named Ajax pulled the Trojan princess Cassandra out of the sanctuary and defiled her. So great was the wrath of Poseidon and Athena that they cast a great whirlwind on the Greek ships as they sailed for home, killing many and stranding others.

While Odysseus was not one of the instigators of the crimes, he was unfortunately caught up in the maelstrom and stranded for almost ten years. After a time, Athena regretted the results of her actions and worked to have Odysseus sent home to his wife and son - arriving twenty years after he had left for war. The journey was fraught with peril. A cyclops, the witch Circe, the Sirens, and several other obstacles blocked his path, not to mention the lingering wrath of Poseidon, who took every opportunity to knock him off course and try to drown him for good measure. Unlike many of the other Greco-Roman heroes and adventurers we have discusses, it was Odysseus’ mind - not his strength - that was his greatest weapon.

Upon his return to his kingdom of Ithaca, he faced the final challenge of removing the numerous suitors that had descended upon his home and demanded to marry his wife, Penelope. With the help of Athena and his son Telemachus, Odysseus once again outwitted his opponents and slew all of the suitors, leaving none but the bard alive. The bard was simply a spectator to these events, and Odysseus believed that anyone with the skills of a bard was blessed by the gods. Not wanting to instigate any further fury from the gods, Odysseus let him go.

The interesting point of this myth is that it favours brains over brawn - something not emphasized in other Greco-Roman heroes.

 Theseus and the Minotaur

Our final myth for today centers around the hero Theseus. I’ve left him for last, as there is great debate amongst wizarding scholars as to the possibility that Theseus and his story are actually historical and not mythological.

Theseus was the son of King Aegeus of Athens, although some say that his true father was the sea god Poseidon. He was kept hidden until manhood in order to assist his father in securing the Athenian throne from a prophesied threat.

When Theseus came of age, he journeyed to Athens, creating a name for himself as a warrior of great strength and moral integrity along the way. Upon his arrival in Athens, he discovered that Medea was manipulating his father. Indeed, Medea saw Theseus as an end to her ability to control the throne, and encouraged Aegeus to kill the stranger. Fortunately, Aegeus had left two personal items with the baby he had fathered - a sword and a pair of shoes. Recognizing these items, Aegeus announced the return of his son and heir, and Medea fled to Asia, where she continued to practice magic.

Sadly, Theseus had returned home during a difficult time for his people. The son of King Minos of Crete had perished while visiting Athens, and the price for not destroying Athens over this incident demanded the sacrifice of seven young men and seven maidens every ninth year to the half-bull, half-human Minotaur found deep in a labyrinth in Crete. Theseus immediately volunteered to be one of the victims in order to defeat the Minotaur.

In Crete, Theseus caught the eye of the King’s daughter, Ariadne, who helped him find a way through the labyrinth of the Minotaur with a ball of string. Theseus went into the labyrinth and killed the monster with his bare hands. He collected up the other Athenians as well as Ariadne and set sail for home.

What happened next is not clear, but somehow Ariadne was left behind on an island where the crew had stopped to rest and replenish their supplies. Some say it was absent mindedness, some say the divine intervention of the demigod Dionysus, but regardless, Ariadne was lost to Theseus. Distraught, he forgot to change the sails from black to white; a prearranged signal to his father that he had survived. Seeing the black sails on the returning ship, Aegeus flung himself into the sea from grief. That sea has henceforth been called the Aegean in his honour.

During his reign as King of Athens, Theseus claimed many other victories, and even fathered a son to one of the Amazons. Ultimately, he married Ariadne’s sister, Phaedra. Unfortunately, Phaedra harboured a very inappropriate lusting for Theseus’ son Hippolytus. Through a series of unfortunate events, Phaedra was turned down by Hippolytus, killed herself, and framed Hippolytus for her “murder”, and Theseus either killed Hippolytus for his treason, or banished him, during which Hippolytus was killed. It was only after Hippolytus’ demise that Theseus learned the true treachery that had happened, and he became ostracized and exiled by his people for killing his innocent son.

Theseus died by being pushed off a cliff by the king of a neighbouring kingdom who both feared Theseus’ strength and detested his actions towards Hippolytus. After a time, the Athenians journeyed to this kingdom to retrieve Theseus’ remains to be buried in Athens as the great deeds he had accomplished for his kingdom outweighed his actions towards Hippolytus.

Scholars today believe that myth of Theseus may in fact be based on a real person, as some of the facts in the story are verifiable: Athens was indeed a commonwealth. Also, there is a significant lack of influence and involvement of the gods in this story, which differs greatly from the other Greco-Roman myths.

If the story of Theseus is indeed true, it then leads to a strong possibility that some of the other myths we examined today are also true. Theseus was known to both house and comfort Heracles after the death of his wife, leading credence to that story. If Theseus’ father was indeed being controlled by the dark witch Medea, that means the story of Jason and the Argonauts could be true. We also know that many of the beasts and monsters in these tales actually do exist, even if the Muggles are not aware of them.

In truth, some of the gods and goddesses in the Greco-Roman world may very have been witches and wizards. Whether they were taken for gods and goddesses given their abilities, or whether they were simply impersonating the divine is unknown. Either way, the knowledge that these myths may be true - at least in part, makes them just that much more fascinating, don’t you think?

Regardless of the hero or voyager, their names were often invoked in magic spells and potion making. As we noted before, Heracles was often invoked for protection, and so was Theseus. Odysseus was often referenced in spells having to do with intelligence and wit, while Perseus and Jason may have been invoked for feats of bravery and adventure. Some of these spells were actual magic work, and some, as we noted in last year’s Ancient Studies class, were simply the work of charlatans. While there is no evidence that invoking these names did anything to the magic, the fact that the Greco-Roman practitioners believed they did was enough to make the practice important for us to study today.

#HL #HogwartsLessons #Yeartwo #SecondYear #Mythology

[theolddarkmachine]

Kingdom- Interlude: Once Upon A Night

Gajeel has had the dream about dying for the blue haired girl for as long as he can remember. Which is weird, since he’s never met anyone with blue hair in his life.

Levy has always loved myths and legends. So much so, in fact, that she was currently getting her master’s in mythological studies.

What neither of them realized was that they were living a legend all their own.

AKA the one with a knight, a princess, and a curse that keeps bringing them together just to pull them apart.

PREVIOUS CHAPTERS

AO3

THIS WAS THE UPDATE FROM HEEEEEEELL. I literally started it like five days ago T.T Wrote almost all of the update, then decided I hated it and started over, only to have it still bend me over a table and have its way with me lol Anyway, I hope y’all like it, because even though it made me want to die, I actually really do like how it turned out. I just wish it didn’t need to be so painful to get there XD Also, har har, Once Upon A (k)Night. DO YOU SEE WHAT I DID THERE. also fun fact: the name liam means resolute protection in case uh, you were wondering

**************************

Gajeel Redfox was always meant for greatness. It was an inevitability that was fixed in his fate, drawn out along the length of the string the mythic Greek witches had pulled for him. His father had made sure to assure him whenever he got the chance that the stars would kneel before him one day, and though he was now dead, Gajeel had never been given a reason to doubt his father.

The Iron Dragon’s own story had been one of fierce renown. Painted a hero to most and regarded a villain to others, it should have come as no surprise when he’d been slain by a crowd of enraged villagers shortly after they’d discovered their own personal bad guy was living just in the outskirts of their town. But wasn’t that the tragedy of being the hero? It was never as simple as black and white, good and evil.

That same village had been an enemy of the kingdom at one time. Where they’d seen themselves as the benevolent forces, Metalicana had regarded them as malevolent, and treated them as such. It had only been payback in kind all the years later when they’d slaughtered him in his home, led by a thief that had twisted events into his favor.

What had been an attempted robbery had been spun into a tale of unwarranted violence by a former enemy. His father had been an illustrious warrior, but even age and twenty angry townspeople could wear such a force down. By the time Gajeel had returned from the errands he’d been sent on that day, it was already too late. The pool of crimson and Metalicana’s soulless eyes haunted his dreams since.

It was the first true lesson that Gajeel learned.

Heroes were destined to be great, but never to be happy.

When his father’s friend, Makarov, came to visit days later, he’d found the then nine-year-old sharing his home with a corpse and looking almost as lifeless.

The man, who he later learned to be the king his father had once served-- even befriended-- took Gajeel in that day. Bringing him home to his kingdom, Makarov gave him all the food he could eat, water he could drink, and a plush bed to sleep. He’d even regaled Metalicana’s son with stories of their youth, words flowing freely and fondly as he spoke of his friend and times forgotten. Without any children of his own, the king treated the Iron Dragon’s son as if he were his, allowing him anything he’d asked for. It was this that led Gajeel to ask Makarov if he could begin training for the Royal Guard, knowing that the man would deny him nothing, especially the opportunity to seize the status his father had been so certain he’d obtain.

I wish to follow in my father’s footsteps, he’d said, kneeling before the king with a practiced flourish. I wish to serve by your side, just as he did.

Though the other pages had started their training two years earlier, setting him behind by circumstance, Gajeel had prospered in the training. At first, he was regarded by his comrades in arms with vague curiosity. A newcomer amongst their ranks would only mean another prospect to beat to reach the rank of a royal guard, and one that was already so far behind could hold no competition. If anything, he would offer a moment’s entertainment before he was quickly beat until he dropped out to become a stablehand.

Not much time passed before he proved to the rest of the pages that he deserved their attention, acing all their lessons and passing each test of strength.

Three years had passed since, and though Gajeel hadn’t made any friends of the other knights in training, he had made them take notice. Their mild indifference had curdled into full blown jealousy that was whispered in dark corners amongst themselves. With his head held high and chip balanced carefully on his shoulder, he’d listen to the rumors they hissed as he passed by, allowing them to feed the fire that blazed within his chest.

The king is the only reason he’s here.

He has to be cheating somehow.

I heard he’s the son of the devil.

Each statement was more kindling, fanning the flames into a roaring bonfire that lit his eyes. With its driving force, Gajeel pushed himself to work harder until no one could stand between his singleminded focus and the grandeur he hungered for.

His attention was concentrated on the single point in the distance, blinding him to all else. That tunnel vision had kept him so focused on his goal that he did not want for anyone or anything in his life. Friendships and social ties would only open him to the possibility of being let down, or worse, letting himself down. Hadn’t he learned so much from his father? He’d allowed himself to become complacent amongst others, and it ended up being his death. Gajeel wouldn’t allow others in so that he wouldn’t need to fear being stabbed in the back.

He wore that philosophy like well worn armor, pushing the other pages away from him, and those pages were all too happy to let him.

It wasn’t until one day at the stables that anyone broke through his defenses, with a solid right hook.

Gajeel had often found himself pulled towards the serene atmosphere that clung to the walls of the repository, its air still with nothing but the soft neighs disrupting the peace. Most of the other boys avoided the stable, worried they might be mistaken for something lesser than the meager position they already held, which meant it was the best place to go for an escape. He didn’t mind the near suffocating scent of horse and hay that filled the stable if it meant he could get away from the bothersome pages while he practiced.

The first thing that alerted him to trouble was the low grumbling of voices that didn’t belong in the space. Several voices tripped over themselves as the unwelcome guests fought to be heard over each other. Following the sound deep into the stables, passing the pens, Gajeel picked up one voice that stood out amongst the rest.

“Now what would a stablehand be doing practicing sparring techniques?” It was a sneering, loathsome thing, filled with all the contempt he’d grown accustomed to. The difference was that now that the arrow filled tone was aimed at someone else, it got under his skin, filling his stomach with bubbling anger that made his fingers curl into fists. His steps only quickened when he heard the snap of a body hitting the wooden slat of one of the pens and the small huff of breath that was knocked out of it.

“You aren’t in the royal guard, stablehand,” another voice hissed.

“And you won’t ever be,” said a third.

Rounding the corner at the end of the stable, Gajeel saw four boys crowded around one that was leaning into one of the pens, hand steadying himself against the wood as he glared at  those that surrounded him. The boy looked to be about his age, and was nothing but long limbs and obsidian hair. His equally dark eyes were trained on the ground, tracing imagined lines in the dirt at his feet as if he was seeing a plan play out before him. Gajeel couldn’t help but notice a strange scar that sliced through his eyebrow, puckering the skin with a crescent mark free of hair. He wondered if the other pages had given the boy that mark. None of them turned their attention to the new addition to their party, all eyes trained on the flushed stablehand, waiting for what his next move might be. The pages were wolves waiting for the rabbit to make one false move that would justify their attack.

“Last I checked, you weren’t in the royal guard either,” Gajeel replied. A satisfied roll of heat rippled through him when the tallest of the boys jumped at the sound of his voice. Four sets of eyes landed on him, filled with contempt and confusion. The tallest-- presumably the leader-- recovered first, his lips turning up into a pinched smile.

“I didn’t think you could actually speak, Gajeel,” he said, tone filled with dark humor. “We’re honored you’d grace us with your attention.” Dropping a mocking bow, his eyes flashed upwards through his bangs, watching all the while for his reaction.

“And I didn’t think you could stoop any lower,” Gajeel shrugged, ignoring the growling beast beating against the cage of his ribs. “Looks like we were both wrong.”

The air of the stables became charged as they held each others gazes, the power struggle between the two boys confined to the six foot space that separated them. Small gasps from the stablehand were the only sounds that filled the silence as everything else dropped away. It felt like the calm before a tempest, the ominous blanket settling over his skin, raising the hair on his arms. The beast rammed against its confines again, the jolt of it blinding him with a short blast of red against his eyelids.

“This doesn’t concern you,” the other boy said lowly, eyes still angled towards him. Somewhere deep within their dark pits, Gajeel could see the festering glow of hatred. Spurred by the challenge in his voice, he took a step forward, fists tightening.

“It can concern me, or it can concern the guard,” Gajeel arched a studded brow. “Make your choice.”

He watched the moment the page chose to unleash his fury on the him, the corners of his mouth turning downward as he made his decision.

“Devil’s son,” the boy spat, launching toward him like a cracking whip, all his energy focused into the single point of his outstretched fist. Smiling like the demon they accused him of being, Gajeel met the attack in the space between them, turning the sloppy mistake into an advantage as he sidestepped it easily. It wasn’t much of a fight as his fingers closed over the boy’s wrist, the speed of his punch pushing him passed Gajeel, and used the momentum to pull his arm behind his back. Wrenching his still closed fist upwards towards his shoulder blades, the page cried out as as Gajeel pushed the point of his knee up into his back and pushed him to his knees.

The boy’s companions just stood around them, mouths agape as they tried to make sense of the chain of events that had landed their leader in the dirt and hay. Bending at the waist so that he was level with the page’s ear, Gajeel spoke, his voice void of any inflection at all.

“Didn’t your mother teach you not to mess with devils?” Tugging upwards on the arm for good measure, he pushed the boy away.

“If you come here again, I’ll make sure to tell the guard you do not uphold the values of a knight,” he said tersely, brows set low over his eyes as he fixed each boy with a glare as he spoke. The dismissal was clear as they scrambled to exit the stables. Anything to get away from Gajeel and the serious gleam in his crimson eyes. For just a moment, he had the very presence of the Iron Dragon.

As the boys scattered, leaving their friend to push himself off the ground, Gajeel turned his attention back to the stablehand who still leaned against the pen. His look was distant, as if he didn’t even realize what had occurred just moments before. Taking a tentative step forward, Gajeel raised a cautious hand.

“Are you alright?” He asked, fingers grazing over the scratching fabric of the boy’s tunic. Though it was as light as a butterfly’s wing, it snapped the stablehand from his reverie. Without warning, a solid fist landed its blow as it found his mouth. The metallic tang of blood filled his mouth and stars danced over his vision at the sudden assault. Shock stole his senses as he ran a tongue over the new split in his lip that was oozing blood down his chin and into his mouth. Once the blinding spots cleared, he saw the look of surprise that had turned the stablehand’s face into a caricature of itself. Eyes wide and mouth frozen open with a small gasp, he looked at him with so much confusion it was almost as if he’d been the one to be hit.

“I’m sorry,” he said quickly, pushing back further into the wood behind him as if he could disappear into it. “I didn’t, I mean, I didn’t--”

“It’s fine,” Gajeel said, blood staining his teeth pink as he spoke. Clicking his jaw, he wiped a hand over his chin, only managing to smear the red further across his skin. Gathering blood and saliva into his mouth, he spit it on the floor beside him with a satisfying splat. “You have one hell of a right hook.”

“I’m sorry,” the other boy said again, black eyes darting to look at anything but the page in front of him. Shaking his head, Gajeel’s shoulders moved with his laughter.

“Nothing to be sorry about,” he paused, waiting for the stablehand to fill in the empty space with his name.

“Liam.” The answer was so soft, he almost missed it amongst the neighing of the horses.

“Liam,” Gajeel nodded in confirmation as he offered his hand. “I’m Gajeel.”

A beat passed as if Liam didn’t know what the gesture was for, before he finally seized it and gave it a curt shake. Though he relaxed a little at the contact, his eyes were still filled with caution as he watched Gajeel carefully. It was a look he’d grown accustomed to, his wild black hair and ruby eyes standing out amongst most. Shrugging it off, he spoke again.

“I’d be happy to practice sparring with you, if you’d like.” Liam’s scarred brow shot up towards his hairline at the offer. Gajeel didn’t know why he’d made the suggestion, his own mind trying to catch up to the words that had left his mouth. He was used to his isolation, only speaking with the knights and Makarov. Anyone else was an unnecessary consequence to crossing paths with someone that mistook him as someone that enjoyed talking. Yet, looking at the stablehand, he recognized the darkness that tinged his gaze. It was the look that had distorted his own.

“Why would you help a stranger?” Liam asked, curiosity winning out over his caution. Gajeel shrugged, nonchalance shaping the bow of his shoulders as to not push the other boy away.

“I figure you can’t be any worse than those I do know. And a punch like that shouldn’t go untrained.” The truth of it all hung between them as Liam sized him up, trying to find any hint of insincerity in the words. Time stretched as he waited for an answer, watching the conflicting emotions that flit across the stablehand’s face as he considered.

“Alright,” he finally said, a small smile stretching across his face as he pushed himself away from the wall. When he wasn’t cowering against the grain of the wood, he stood a couple inches taller than Gajeel. The bonds of a friendship that would last the rest of their days settled over them as the Iron Dragon’s son nodded.

“Alright.” It was then, standing in the stables with a devil’s smile cracking his split lip further, that Gajeel learned his second lesson.

Sometimes others could give you purpose.

***

Gajeel was inducted into the Royal Guard by the time he turned 18, just a year later than his father had. It was a fact Makarov had been quick to point out with a mischievous smile. The new knight refuted it with a reminder that his father had also started training at the right age, and his own daring grin.

Over the years their relationship had evolved from that of an adopted familial bond to one of camaraderie, echoing that of the one the king had once had with Metalicana. He never said it aloud, but Makarov saw so much of his friend in Gajeel that often times he’d forget that they were not one in the same.

Those moments when he’d see the Iron Dragon stalking the halls, only to vanish in the black armor of his son, would send a sharp pain of sorrow ricocheting through his body. The king was always quick to mask the way his expression would falter as he remembered the past. They’d been a simpler time when royal politics and fate hadn’t taken away the two people he’d held dearest, leaving behind their ghosts to haunt him in the halls. After the night with the oracle, it seemed fate still did not believe it had taken enough from him.

The request for a private meeting with Gajeel had come through the guard, a formality that alerted him to the irregular nature of Makarov’s inquiry. Since becoming one of his knights, the king would skip speaking through Gajeel’s superiors, coming to him directly with orders that ranged from gathering a patrol to take around the kingdom to staying by his side as he met with diplomats from foreign lands. This strangeness of it all had him on edge as he finally entered the throne room, shoulders squared beneath the pauldrons that sat atop them.

Makarov sat on his throne, eyes shut as he rubbed his fingers against his temples. For just a moment, Gajeel noted the way age had grayed his hair and etched lines into his face. Stepping further into the room, he cleared his throat to alert the king of his presence before dropping to a knee before him.

“You wished to speak with me?” He asked, filling his voice with as much etiquette as he could. Speaking to the king as a knight and not as his adopted son was something he’d never been good at, easily slipping back into the latter whenever they’d discussed plans and orders. Makarov’s eyes opened, settling their cool blue gaze on him from where he sat. A weariness touched their corners, pinching them at the edges.

“Will you do anything for me?” The question was sharp, pointed at the edges as the words slipped from the king’s mouth without any preface. Gajeel felt his eyebrows pull together in confusion and concern as he looked up at the older man.

“As your knight, or as your kin?” He asked, letting bewilderment color his tone. A knight would follow any order from his king, having no other choice due to the oath he had taken. Kin would do so of their own accord. Gajeel would never disobey an order from Makarov, but the distinction would mean all the difference between obligation and choice.

“As you, Gajeel,” Makarov sighed, the unfamiliar veil of pleading falling over his face. “Will you protect someone for me?”

The weight of the request settled on his shoulders as he ruminated over the vague request.

“Who?” Gajeel asked. Doubt and confusion were a heated mix as they started to rush through his veins. Something was wrong, he could see it in the way the older man was hunched in his throne as if the world rest upon his shoulders and it was crushing him slowly.

“A young woman, living in the outskirts of the kingdom.” Still vague in his explanation, Makarov continued to speak. “I need you to swear that you will do whatever it takes to gain her trust and protect her.”

After a moment’s pause, his gaze boring into the king as if he could pull the answers straight from his mind, Gajeel spoke again.

“Why her?” Those two words cracked what little composure the king had clung to, its mask falling away as his features contorted with fear.

“You should not need a reason to follow my orders, Gajeel,” Makarov snapped, his voice uncharacteristically harsh as he spoke. Despair colored his tone with a muddled anger, his emotion displaced as his dark eyes bore into the knight. “I just need to know that you will do anything to keep her safe.”

Shoulders tensed and expression stormy, the king was a fearsome sight. For the first time in all the years he had known him, Gajeel was frightened by the man. He almost didn’t look human as he glared down at him. It was the look of a man that had lost nearly everything, and was ready to do whatever it took to keep what was left safe.

It was this in mind that Gajeel assented, nodding his head curtly as asking what it was that his king needed of him.

That was when Gajeel learned his third lesson.

Fear could sway even the most resilient of men.

***

The hardest thing Gajeel had ever done, was deceive the blue haired woman that opened the door of the cottage that day.

May I help you?

He had practiced the lie he would use to gain entrance into her home. Had planned how he would get the unknown woman to trust him so he could fulfill his king’s order. What Gajeel hadn’t planned for was the way her golden eyes snatched the breath from his lungs. No amount of preparation could have readied him for the way his heart stuttered in his chest, stopping momentarily before throwing itself into the cage of his ribs when she smiled up at him and invited him in.

Levy. Her name was Levy. And she had enamored him completely by the end of that first meeting. Day after day he returned under the guise of completing the job that had been set for him by Makarov, gaining her trust with honeyed words and sugared intent. He was so dedicated to the ruse, that at some point the gimmick became truth.

Eventually, he stopped returning to the castle, opting to stay with her full time under the thinly disguised excuse of added protection. Ignoring the quizzical look from the queen, the heavy handed silence of the king and the growing pressure located just behind his sternum, Gajeel became a staple in Levy’s life, and she became one in his.

When his father had told Gajeel he’d manage to obtain greatness, he hadn’t thought that greatness would so easily fit against his chest, clutched within the halo of his arms. Levy had worked her way into his heart slowly, her hold upon his affections tightening ever so slowly that he hadn’t noticed she held it completely in her palm until it was already too late. She was the other half of his soul; the light to his darkness; daylight to his moonlight night sky. Her radiance grounded him, and her brilliance enthralled him. All she needed to do was smile up at him, the sun dancing in her hair and wind rouging her cheeks, to land a carefully shot arrow between his ribs.

She built him up while simultaneously holding all the power to tear him down. But wasn’t that the glory of love? Odes, and sonnets, and epics were created in honor of the sheer heroism that came with loving and being loved in return.  

Happiness filled his days, pushing his original intentions to the deep recesses of his mind. Soon, Makarov’s original request was lost in the far reaches of Gajeel’s memory, buried beneath honey eyes and azure hair. It was enough to lull the Iron Dragon’s son into a false reality, seeing only what he wanted to and ignoring the very fact he’d learned all those years ago.

Heroes weren’t meant to be happy. He had let himself forget that truth. The mistake was fatal, leading him to the final lesson that he would learn.

Love was worth dying for.

****************

#gajevy #Gajeel X Levy #Gajeel Redfox #Levy McGarden #fairy tail #fairy tail fanfiction #kingdom #PEEP THAT LIAM INFO #WHY DID I PICK LIAM? #1) BECAUSE OF ITS MEANS #AND 2) CUZ IT STARTS WITH LI AND IS FOUR LETTERS #aw man i was trying so hard in the first version of this chapter #im kinda sad cuz i really wanted to talk about metalicana's wife and stuff but it just didn't work #so imma talk about her here #she was one of the queen's ladies #and her name was luciana as a shoutout to my original protag name lol #aaaaaaaand she died giving birth to gajeel sad day

[myth-lord]

CREATURES FROM MYTHIKA: G

GAASYENDIETHA (Native American Myth)(Dragon/Elemental/Shapeshifter)(Gargantuan)(Best Stat: Defense): Gaasyendietha are space traveling, all-devouring dragons, they travel the cosmos in the form of giant asteroids and crash down on random planets to deplete them of all life, after the impact they transform into their dragon-like forms that appear much like meteor-skinned fire dragons, and devour all the corpses/souls/ashes of the victims their powerful impact made.

GAKI (Chinese Myth)(Undead)(Medium)(Best Stat: Strength): Gaki are greedy, gluttonous undead which are just hungry for food and riches, their curse is that they are never satisfied in their undead forms and nothing they touch or eat satisfies them for long. Whenever the Gaki is wounded the wound turns into another random maw or mouth on its body, elder Gaki are covered in maws in result. 

GANCANAGH (Irish Myth)(Fae/Leprechaun)(Small)(Best Stat: Charisma):  Gancanagh are pretty-faced, selfish cousins of the Leprechaun which love to wear bright purple colors, they are real smooth-talkers and have been known to talk themselves out of the most impossible situations. A Gancanagh’s magical sweat induces feral feelings of lust, but only towards the Gancanagh himself. Victims of this sweat follow the Gancanagh around like obsessed groupies and do anything the Gancanagh asks from them, addicts even take their own life if the Gancanagh wishes it. Gancanagh can enthrall entire villages and revel in the fun it gives, but when the Gancanagh becomes bored with his game he simply disappears, the left-behind crowd often take on their former lives but the worst addicts end their own lives as they simply can’t live without the Gancanagh anymore.

GARGOYLE (French Myth)(Elemental/Demon)(Medium)(Best Stat: Defense): Gargoyles come in two varieties, the gentle Gargoyle and the corrupted evil Gargoyle, the gentle Gargoyle came first, they are ugly, dangerous looking statues that have the soul of an Guardian Angel inside them, they protect villages and cities against demons or other evils. Of course demons and warlocks found a way to corrupt the statues and infused them with the souls of demons, they spread these around the world to sow confusion and death as people confuse the statues with the gentle variant, for this reason most cities put aside even the gentle gargoyles.

GASHADOKURO (Japanese Myth)(Undead/Skeleton)(Gargantuan)(Best Stat: Strength): Gashadokuro are collections of the bones of countless victims that starved to death or which were killed by the Gashadokuro itself as it absorbs all the bones it finds inside its ever growing mass. While they are undead some scholars mistake them from elementals as they can shift their forms just easy as any elemental. Gashadokuro mostly spawn in places that were destroyed by the Horseman of Famine and they are his most loyal and powerful minions. While most Gashadokuro appear as giant skeletons, they can take many forms, some take the skulls of dragons and become a bone dragon. When destroyed the Gashadokuro falls appart into a small army of normal human-sized skeletons that attack the ones that destroyed their Gashadokuro form.

GAUEKO (Basque Myth)(Elemental/Shapeshifter)(Large)(Best Stat: Stealth): Shadow Elementals that haunt the darkness and night hunting for foolish and brave souls that don’t have respect for the night. Gaueko can sense fear in their victims and can shapeshift into the form of the beast they fear most, their shapeshift abilities are limited to shadow though and every form they take is created from darkness and living shadow, most often they appear as Dragons, Spiders, Wolves, Werewolves and humanoids made from shadow as most people seem to fear those.

GBAHALI (African Myth)(Beast/Reptilian)(Large)(Best Stat: Stealth): These bizarre crocodile monsters differ from their aquatic brothers in quit some ways, they are land-based, rarely visiting water other than for drinking, they have the powers of Chameleons, but so powerful they can become invisible, they have long legs and can run pretty fast on them and they are intelligent hunters. Gbahali often camouflage themselves in the colors of rocks so they appear to be a rocky formation, but their powers are so precise that they can blend into any landscape.

GIRTABLILU (Arabian Myth)(Humanoid/Centauric/Vermin)(Large)(Best Stat: Defense): Centaurids that combine the features of humanoids and enormous scorpions, Girtablilu are an all-male race with only the queen being a female, while there are several hives of Girtablilu, there is still only one queen, this queen is known as the Deity Serket. Girtablilu are very protective of their hives, queen and race and attack most interlopers without mercy or questions asked, they also enjoy violence and rather use their stingers and pincers than their mouths. In Girtablilu society only the strong survive and they have no respect for weaklings whatsoever.

GLOSON (Swedish Myth)(Undead/Beast)(Medium)(Best Stat: Speed): Terrifying undead pig horrors with razor-sharp needles or sometimes even saw-like projections on their backs. Gloson or Gravso mostly hunt at night on graveyards and places were much dead are buried. They stalk their humanoid prey for a while before emerging from behind, most prey will flee away from the Gloson and the hellish pigs then run through their victim splitting them in half with their saw-like sails on their back.

GOBLIN (Medieval European Myth)(Humanoid/Goblinoid)(Small)(Best Stat: Stealth): The very first enemy in the game! Goblins come in multiple variants in Mythika. Goblin Sneaks are just goblins holding a knife while doing the thing they are good at, being sneaky and backstabbers. The Goblin Trappers are dressed in traps and nets (having a bear trap as necklace for example) and they use cruel traps to snare their victims before torturing them to death with cruel tools. Having stolen a lot of alchemy-type potions from witches, the Goblin Bombers use explosive potions as ranged weapons, they can do lots of damage to inexperienced starting heroes.  Worg Raiders are the leaders among goblin kind, they are cruel leaders riding dangerous Worg Wolves into battle, they induce fear and inspiration into their lesser Goblin kind.

GOLD-DIGGING ANT (Medieval European Myth)(Construct/Vermin)(Small)(Best Stat: Defense): Created by the Dactyl for two purposes, finding precious metals like gold, silver, copper, diamond and adamantium, and protect it with its artificial life. There are four types of Gold-Digging Ants in Mythika

GORGON (Greek Myth)(Humanoid/Centauric/Reptilian)(Medium)(Best Stat: Charisma): Snake-haired women that were cursed for their great vanity, Gorgons are immortal and can only be killed by decapitating. Gorgons turns creatures into statues with their gaze which they can animate into golem-like constructs that also protect them. Gorgons lower body is that of a giant serpent.

GRINDYLOW (English Myth)(Aberration)(Small)(Best Stat: Speed):  Creations of the long-dead Swamp Hag named Jenny Greenteeth, Grindylow are strange aberrations combing features from gremlins, piranha and squid. Grindylow often hunt in swarms like Piranha do, they use their limited intelligence to break down fisher boats and feast on the fleshy morsels that hit the water, shredding them with their oversized teeth till nothing but bones remain.

GULON (Scandinavian Myth)(Beast/Chimerae)(Medium)(Best Stat: Strength): Gluttonous in the extreme these chimerae combine the features of bears and wolverines, but many scholars think they are just dire wolverines. Gulons eat till they drop, they never stop eating, eating anything alive and even the landscape itself. They are the favorite creations of the Sinlord of Gluttony which sends them to torment his greatest enemies, eating away everything they build and love. Their voracious eating-habits have no limit and they leave a trail of filth and destruction in their wake. Abyssal Maws are even worse demonical Gulons, these are more maw than creature and have been known to rip entire worlds clean of all life forms.

BOSSES:

Geryon (Greek Myth)(Commander armies of War) Graeae (Greek Myth)(Old Hag Sisters) Grendel (Story Myth)(Monstrous destroyer of cities) Grootslang (African Myth)(Destructive beasts of the jungles)

FRIENDLY CREATURES:

Galtzagorri / Garuda / Griffon / Guardian Angel

OTHER MONSTERS: (I like them but aren’t going to post them)

Ga-Gorib / Garm / Gawigawen / Gegenees / Ghawwas / Ghul / Globster / Golem / Gowrow / Gray Alien / Gremlin / Gudiao / Gwyllion / Gylou

@NOTE: All pictures found on GOOGLE PICTURES, not my own work, and mostly here to give an impression of what the creatures COULD look like.

If you see your own artwork and want it removed, just PM me about and I instantly remove it.

@NOTE 2: While all these creatures come from mythology, I gave my own spin to these creatures, many of these creatures don’t have the powers and abilities I gave them.