The tale you are about to learn comes from deep within the memories of the oldest beings. There will be different opinions, or viewpoints depending upon the teller, but the core of the story is sound. Every good epic must be built and much like the remembrances of our beloved Elders sometimes the telling can take many recitations to get it just right. The legend of the Creation is one such tale. Be patient, dear reader, as the narrative unfolds. Imagine your great-grandmother is attempting to recall all the details as you sit on her sofa, her mind sometimes bouncing around on the specifics as she remembers the bits and pieces from before time began; though not always in the right order. We are taught from an early age to respect our Elders and the stories they tell. There is always truth in their words regardless of how many times they share those stories along with the many versions changing details. The memories passed to us are steeped in the mythos from their youthful days and the tales told to them by their ancestors. You may wonder if they remember correctly or if it is all made up. But does that really matter? These wondrous gems are their legacy passed to us and the remembrance of them keeps our beloved ones alive generation after generation. It is our history. It is our beginning. And here in this account, our story originates with the words and memories of beloved Great-Grandmother Edda.–

Creation:

In the beginning there was nothing, the all-encompassing darkness, Chaos unmoving, compacted to its simplest form. Hmmm. Saying that all was nothingness is not entirely true. If accuracy is the goal it is far better to say that all was sleeping. Yes, sleeping would be right. Such it is at every beginning. Wait, perhaps it is more precise to say that everything was quiet, dormant even. It is in just this state when the awakenings dawn and the Cycle commences once more.

In the beginning, at the onset of the awakenings, all was quiet. The Cosmos slept and the Elementals, those first beings, began to stir. Throughout many incarnations of the Cycle these beings have been called by many names:  Devas, Titans, Fir Bolg, etc. Here, when all things are first roused though, they are always the Vanir.

Who are the Vanir, you ask? There are those that say they are just another tribe of gods/esses. Some would say that they are lesser beings barely mentioned in a mythos that leaves a great deal out in the telling. Other accounts would have you believe that the role of the Vanir was just to add to the story of the more militaristic Æsir. Well, that story is for later on but know that the Vanir are far more than just the sum of their parts. If you are reading this you have been called to see more, understand more than the few broken lines of the past. You are here to know the stories of old through ‘their’ viewpoint, to fill in the missing pieces ignored by the pens of man. It is time to recognize the truths as seen through the eyes of these ancient elementals. Who are the Vanir? They are the forces that stir the cosmos and every world, realm, and dimension within it. They are the beginning, the middle, and the end.

How does it all begin? With quiet, the awakening, and then curiosity.

Curiosity exists in all beings no matter how great or small. Curiosity exists in all the beginnings and all the endings. It does not vary regardless of how many cycles come and go. Curiosity is what pushes experimentation and discovery. It fuels creation and even cessation. It is the endless opportunities that are created through curiosity that fuel all the legends of old. But regardless of these infinite possibilities there will always be some things that are fixed. They hold their place in the cycles as guideposts through the navigation of the Cosmos. Beginnings and endings are two such fixed points.

In the beginning it was dark and quiet. All was still in its slumber. Then the awakenings started. Slowly the Vanir stirred, their consciousness building and reaching out to touch the others and sense what was around them like small tendrils. While the Vanir are generally all part of one great energy essence, it was their curiosity that would lead to the development of their personalities and traits. Differences that would allow them to grow, build, and experience the newly forming nexus around them and what would eventually become defining traits that separated them into groups and tribes. These tribes would then go on to develop much of what would later be the Cosmos, but first…all things must begin.

In the beginning there was an absence of light and sound. There was no discernable movement. When the Vanir awoke their curiosity began to create. The stilled chaos, dark and cold, became the great void, Ginnungagap. The elemental Vanir existed on the fringes and watched the great chasm, waiting to see what would happen. If time existed at this point we would have to say that a great deal of it passed before any fruit was borne of their watching. But time did not exist yet, and so the Vanir watched. From the depths of the yawning gap a spark began to form. Perhaps it was thought into being by the Vanir, perhaps it was simple atoms moving about to eventually create a spark. But it was there, and it was small. So small at first that the Vanes could only watch as it began to grow. Seeing this glimmer, they reached forward and slowly moved it closer to them. It was fascinating. The faintest of light that inspired so much curiosity in its potential. They nurtured it with their own inner power watched as it developed, spreading out into an expanse of fire. Such a creation needed a guardian to watch over the power and so from its fires Muspell was created. After Muspell, Surtr was born and so Muspellheim had its warden. Seeing the possibility of the fires running rampant if left unchecked the Vanir sensed that a balance must be present.

Balance is one of the key rules to the universe. Everything has a power that balances the scales. It is vital for the Cycle to continue. Beginnings have endings, birth has death, and fire has water. As the fires burned and coiled around the edges of Gunnungagap it was thought that to temper the flames something cooler, but just as powerful, should be formed to keep the balance. Vanes, different from those who had built the fires of Muspell, began to pull from the ether mists and waters placing them to the farthest point from the fires. These waters and mists formed the twelve rivers. Rivers that wound their ways through all the lands of existence as they grew. The rivers began to flow from this source, twisting and surging towards the gap ahead. The closer they came, however, the more they solidified. The ice that formed was so cold that it was hot to the touch as to resemble the dry ice we know today. Layer upon layer of ice formed creating great glacial spreads of frozen waters. The power used to freeze these rivers resulted in poisons becoming trapped within. Why poison? Every creation needs its ending after all. As the poisons pushed outwards towards the surface they became a salty rime. When the Vanes saw this result they knew that, like the fire land of Muspell, this land too required a guardian. From the deep reaches of the ice Nifl was created. After Nifl, Faurbati was born and so Niflheim had its warden. These were the first guardians of their worlds, Muspellheim and Niflheim, but they were not the first beings. No, those were the Vanes. And the Vanes’ curiosity wanted to fill the gap.