The Mortal and The Divine

Here's a love story for the ages to get you through to the second half of November. 

Writing & Research:

Dustin Howard

https://www.dthbooks.com/

Narration & Additional Research:

Camden Mauer

Music:

Christopher Pinar-Ríndon
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Transcript

It’s said that when warriors fell on the battlefield,
when the clang of clashing swords and crush of shattered spears dimmed,
when the world grew quiet,
a host of figures rode through the mist.
 
They came not to mourn the dead, but to claim them.
Their armor gleamed like sunlight off the ice.
Their horses exhaled clouds that chilled the fog.
These were the valkyrjur: the choosers of the slain.
 
And though they are remembered as angels of war,
the truth of the Valkyries is far more complex.
 
In Norse mythology, the Valkyries were the handmaidens of Odin, the Allfather.
They were divine beings, almost angelic, but not quite gods.
They were closer to fate itself.
Their name comes from valr, meaning “the slain,” and kjósa, “to choose.”
Their duty was to ride over blood-soaked battlefields and decide which fallen warriors were worthy of Valhalla, Odin’s great hall of the dead.
 
There, those chosen would drink mead, fight again, and prepare for the end of all things: Ragnarok.
But for every warrior they lifted from the field, countless others were left behind.
The Valkyries’ judgment was not mercy; it was selection.
They didn’t come to comfort the dying. They came to choose.
But sometimes…they did more than choose.
 Sometimes, they loved.

My name is Camden. Follow me down, into the Wells of Wyrd.

One of the oldest Valkyrie tales begins on a burial mound.
A young man sits there, unnamed, silent.
He is the son of King Hjörvarðr and Queen Sigrlinn, but he speaks to no one.
Until the day he sees them.
 
Twenty-seven riders descend through the gray sky, their armor flashing like lightning.
Leading their charge is a woman so radiant that even the dead must stir to see her.
Her name is Sváva, a Valkyrie, and the daughter of King Eylimi.
When her gaze falls upon the silent prince, something stirs within her.
She names him Helgi, meaning “the holy one.”
 And the moment she does, his silence breaks.
He asks her what gift he will receive with the name she’s given him,
and says he won’t accept it unless he can have her as well.
 
Sváva tells him of a hidden sword, powerful beyond measure.
She guides him to it, and soon Helgi becomes a warrior, a king, and her beloved.
She protects him in battle, and in return, he gives her a mortal’s devotion.
But as all mortal things must, Helgi’s story ends in blood.
He dies from a wound, and Sváva remains behind, heartbroken, yet eternal.
The story tells us they were reincarnated, fated to find each other again and again.
 
Another Helgi would one day take his place in the cycle.
Helgi Hundingsbane, a warrior who sat amid the corpses of his enemies after the battle of Logafjöll, sees lightning flash from the clouds above him,
and through that storm rode the Valkyries once more.
 
Their armor was drenched in blood. Their spears shimmered with fire.
 Among them was Sigrún, whose name meant “victory-rune.”
 
Sigrún told Helgi that her father had promised her to another man, one she could not love. So, Helgi gathered his army and went to war,
not for conquest, but for her freedom.
 
When he won, the Valkyries descended again,
Sigrún came to him on her horse, pledging herself to him forever.
She told him he would become a great ruler.
But fate had other plans.
 
Helgi was killed soon after, and like the hero before him, he was entombed in stone.
Yet even in death, he returned.
Sigrún found him one night within his burial mound, his eyes glowing in the dim torchlight. She laid beside him there, mourning the loss of their life together that they could not share.
Then she too died of a broken and sorrowful heart.
 
The legends say that the couple were born again sometime later
as Helgi Haddingjaskaði and Kára the Valkyrie.
Their story is now lost to the ages, but we remember them
as the lovers who defied death by finding one another again and again.
Perhaps it is the strength of their love that draws them together in every age.
Perhaps, somewhere out there even now, the fated couple continues to reunite.
What form they take may change, but their love remains…eternal.
 
The Valkyries have been called angels of death,
but they are neither divine nor demonic.
They exist between two realms: the battlefield and Valhalla, the mortal and the divine.
Sometimes they appear with ravens, symbols of Odin’s sight.
Other times they take the form of swans, pure and distant.
They are beauty and terror, compassion and cruelty…all woven into one.
To be chosen by a Valkyrie was both a blessing and a curse.
 It meant honor. But it also meant that your fate was no longer your own.
 
Their stories remind us that, in the end, love and courage, no matter how fleeting,
can reach through the ages, and that even in death, we may yet find purpose.
 
Today’s episode was written and researched by Dustin Howard with additional research by Camden Mauer. The music of Wells of Wyrd was written and performed by Christopher Ridon.
For resources and more information, you can visit us at wellofwyrd.com or follow us on all platforms @wellsofwyrd. That’s wyrd with a y. You can hear the next episode wherever you listen to podcasts. Let us know in the comments which myth we should tackle next.
See you around wyrdos.