Long ago, there lived a most gentle mother who was blessed with the gift of creativity. She had the power to give and take life away like a god, but never adorned the power with malice. Crowned on her head were a small set of antlers, ten tines in total, she could not stand on two legs, nor did she have hands to guide. She was simple in nature and physique, wearing only a gentle smile and a nature eager to please. She had no grand stories or tales of struggle and determination that surrounded her past, and was purely a simple entity with a vivid imagination.

Whilst the mother had her creativity, bliss and peace, she felt alone. She wanted to care for a child and she yearned to watch the child grow to independence. She wanted to share her knowledge with the child, share life stories and secrets. In turn, she wanted devoted company. One peaceful eve, the mother walked towards an ancient pond. This pond had existed long before the mother. It was common knowledge that the pond was a giver of life, so the mother saw this as a worthy catalyst to aid her cause. The mother looked into the reflection of a pond, and saw only her self stare back. Speaking with a sense of optimism and hope, the mother uttered to the ponds surface “Sister pond, I wish to be with company, with those of my own likeness. I want to care for another. You know as well as any, the joys of watching a child grow from your nourishment.”

There was a shrill silence, before the pond began to speak in sinuous, flowing tones.



The mother was not sure what to make of this, staring quizzically at the ponds surface. From the murky depths, a glowing form began to take shape; she spotted a single rune forming on the surface.







The mother watched as the rune quivered and shook with uncertainty, like a small child waiting for approval. Lowering her neck to the surface, the mother smiled and spoke gently “You are perfect in every way. You are beautiful, and no one will ever be as unique as you.” The mother lowered her head to the ponds surface and gently kissed it. “Whatever you wish to be, I am happy.” As the mother raised her head the rune glowed with intensity and lifted from the ponds surface. It hovered slightly before finding its place on the mothers right antler; the very front tine.

“We will become very close, you and I.” The gentle mother looked back to the pond and thanked her, but the water remained silent. Tonight, the mother would sleep peacefully and comfortably, for she now had a life to devote herself too.





In the far distance, just from view, a pond gurgled and swirled, perhaps it was with a sick delight, or simply bubbled with greater plans held for the mother. From the slick of the mud, a pure white head rose from the surface, the creatures body was patched with glowing embers. Crowned from the alabaster face were snarling, devouring antlers. The creature walked with little elegance or delight; it walked twisted and aggressively, as if it was never meant to walk in the first place. In place of its front hooves were large talons, hands. They were not the hands of gentle guidance. The pond spoke in tones that no known creature could hear, addressing this new birthed entity.



From the surface of the pond, eight other runes formed, waiting for their mother.





Just as the pond had predicted, our mother would return to her sister. The mother walked hastily towards the pond, addressing it in the utmost kindness and respect, “Sister pond, I cannot thank you enough for the joy this child has bestowed upon me. But it occurred to me, what will happen when I die? Who will this child have for comfort? She does not have a family other than I. I ask of you sister, that I create a companion of same blood for my first child. A brother who, whilst, is second born, is older and protective over his sister.”



Hardly delaying in the response, a new rune formed on the surface and floated towards the left antler, the very front tine. Pleased and grateful, the mother walked away from the pond, and a second night passed. The ponds child would lurk in the shadows, surrounding the mother. She would bide her time. Meanwhile a rivalry arose between the two children, as the brother became jealous over the sister. This new burden became heavy and demanding, and the mother no longer had company to talk too as the children had only time for bickering. Slowly the mother dragged her legs towards the pond, speaking with despair “Sister pond! My children always argue! They never treat each other with care or regard. My antlers are heavy and my family is incomplete! A child for every tine, to balance the argument, for company and joy!”



The mother scoffed and stamped her feet. “Never! I love my children, and I will never loose them. They adore me!” The mother’s antlers now adorned with glowing runes, treaded away from the pond. Feeling proud of herself, she curled up in a quiet place, and began to speak with her children. She wanted to hear their voices.





The diversity and strength of the voices became overpowering. Each spoke over each other, until it blended into a white noise. For days upon days the voices spoke at any silent moment. They bickered and opposed each other, argued, disagreed. It is at this point in time that our gentle mother is granted an opportunity. The mother slowly walked, her weary head held low. She sighed to herself “If only…if only I could just have one rest…just some peace…”
From the dappled shadows a slithering form lurched towards her, its talons ripping hungrily at the earth. It had a sick, twisted grin, its blue tongue sliding out of its jaws “Mother tired, mother sleep? Come now mother, you shouldn’t weep…” The sickly beast walked towards her, placing its hands on the mother’s shoulders, its blue tongue licking at the side of her face. “I was a mother once…I lost my children to a wolf, a trickster.” From the greasy black eyes of the monster, she pretended to shed a tear. “I miss my children...”

The beast paused and faced the mother “Let me care for your children whilst you rest. It would be a pleasure…” The mother was weary, but delighted. “Your story saddens me, stranger, you clearly know the joys of child, but to have it taken away from you.” Lowering her antlers to the beast, she watched as the runes floated into her antlers. “I will care for them, mother. Go, rest, feel refreshed. In the morning, come find me by the pond.” And so the mother left with an ephemeral sense of relief. She would sleep her deepest that night. In the corner of the forest, in the darkest shadowy part, the beast grinned and reveled in sick delight and jealousy. She plucked from her antlers one name, and grinned with opportunity. “You prove yourself a weakling. You wish to be stronger. You will be stronger, with me. Such a pretty rune.”



The beast would devour the rune, the essence behind it, and from that day forward, she would claim it as her own. The wailing cries of the children were muted in the snarling antlers. The beast crawled towards the edge of the pond and grinned “We will test your mothers devotion, to prove which one owns strongest emotion..” The beast then plucked from her antlers, the first-born rune and tossed her into the pond. “We will see who she values more…” Grinning in delight at her work, she plucked another from her antlers “You who never had a voice! You waste my time!” The beast then devoured it. The rune would never be seen again.




The pond addressed the beast sternly
The sickly beast grinned with delight “She did loose two, the other simply changed hands. Two more will die by her own hand” The beast then curled up to sleep, and awaited the mother in the morning.

As time passed, as it always had done, the mother awoke, refreshed and alive, racing towards the pond. There she sighted the beast, and walked towards her. “Good morning moder, did you sleep well?” The sickly beast spoke. The mother grinned and nodded. “I did, my friend. I slept well and peaceful. Now, where are my children?” The beast hung her head low with false disdain, her twisted finger pointing to the ponds surface, where the first-born rune was flickering and fading. “She jumped by her own will. Some fool told her that her friends had all died. I tried to stop it! But I could not control her.” The beast wailed falsely “I cannot reach her! My arms are not long enough to pluck her from the waters!” The mother cried out with worry and ran to the shallows of the pond. “Pond, have mercy on my first-born. Save her!” The pond did not answer. The beast stood on the high ridge and shouted, “The pond is divine, and requires a sacrifice…”

In her desperation, the mother hastily shook a rune from her antlers and tossed it into the deep. “Take this child. He cries! He does not want me!” The pond began to bubble and swirl. “Take this blood in exchange for my first-born.”



As the disowned child began to fade, the first-born rune glowed bright and returned to her antlers. It was only then, that the pond began to speak.



With this, the mother grew jealous and angry. She ran towards the sickly beast and snarled, “You tricked me! You betrayed! You stole him away!” The beast grinned and replied, “I did not steal, I took what was mine.” The mother grew jealous and locked antlers with her, shaking her head to try to get her lost child back. “Take them all, but NEVER take mine!” The remaining runes returned to the mother’s antlers, and the mother snarled again. “If you can have a name! I will take one too!” From her antlers, she shook and devoured a name, and watched as it appeared above her own head.



The pond watched as the two creatures fought and argued, and shouted out with proclamation



From that point onwards, the two were known as Rett and Venstre. Venstre would forever lurk within the forest, Rett would make herself present on occasion, skulking and hiding. One afternoon, the mother walked towards a secret spot, only she knew of, and shook one rune from her antler, placing it under a rock, and smiled. “You are more important than you realize. One day there will be a greater purpose for you. But for now, you must remain hidden from her”



With that she turned the rock over and kissed it gently. “One day, I will come for you. You will be sculpted in the image of two others.” Rett then turned and headed deep into the forest, awaiting the day that child would be born again.

She sat on a solitary hillock, joined by Venstre. The pair sat in unison. Through the bitterness they had found their own demons in each other. The pair would rest that night, curled around each other.

A story of two mothers.