Godspousery Notes: Story time with Loki

 One night, during my recent bout of hypomania, Loki decided to tell me a story to help me sleep. He started it off by saying, "I am the Lie-Smith, therefore this is Schrodinger's tale. No one knows if it is true or not." I drolly answered with "Isn't that true with half of your stories?" His rejoinder: If that were the case only a quarter of what I tell you would be truth until it was all lies. I muttered something about turtles but he told me to stop talking and go to sleep.

So, I shut up and stared at the ceiling for a few minutes. Then Loki told me this story.

'Once, in Midgard, no light was seen but that of Sòl. There were the stars and Máni at night, but it was not half so bright as day. And so it remains. (At this point I interrupted him with 'Wow, that's a short story.' I was told to shut up and go to sleep.) The days were warm but the nights were bitterly cold. My grandchild, He who Mocks, ran mightily until he overtook Sòl for a time. 

The Day-Star's Mistress was quite worried. He who Mocks, however, spoke to her.

"Have you no regard for the poor creatures of the nine worlds who shiver bitterly when you put your horses abed?"

She looked briefly from her course to Midgard and saw places where ice remained despite her cargo's brilliant light and warmth. In them, she saw man struggling to keep warm. She thought of her own child and pitied them, for were they not some mother's child as well?

"There's nothing I can do, wolf," Sòl said, "I must drive this chariot through the skies of the nine worlds lest there be eternal darkness."

He who Mocks was not pleased with this answer. "Such a fine mother you are to keep your own child warm at your breast as you ride high. Yet a poor daughter for you have forgotten your father in chill Midgard and abandoned him and your mother to it."

Sòl grew irate with this comment and said bitterly, "Wolf, you know I have no choice in this. I bear a spark of Muspelheim in this wain. If it were to fall to Midgard, all would turn to ash as surely as if Surtur came in his wrath." He who Mocks regarded Sòl and then ran off. As light again grew bright upon the nine worlds, He who Mocks stopped chasing his quarry for a time.

He who Mocks ran along the secret ways of the World Tree to Muspelheim. At the gate he met Sinmara, Muspelheim's great queen. She frowned at my grandson. "You have abandoned your solemn duty, wolf. Now the girl of Midgard who guides the Day-Star will become lazy and wander."

"I shall resume chase in a little while, Lady, but I ask for a spark of your fire, a tiny one. That I might baffle Sòl in the chase." Sinmara thought a while. She was wise, as her husband Mimir, perhaps a little bit more for she still had her head upon her shoulders and was consort to a mighty ruler.

"Wolf, I will not give you this spark you ask for because it will cause mischief in the heavens. I will, however, give it to the one you send to me for a price. The fire of Muspelheim is beyond value and I will not see it diminished one bit for a simple folly."

He who Mocks nodded in agreement and ran away. On his way to catch up with Sòl, he passed by me. "Grandfather! Oh, Grandfather!" he cried, "Go to Sinmara and catch a spark of their fire to spread in cold Midgard." So, I took my bow and quiver of arrows, with one that I carved as I spoke with my daughter's servant one afternoon. I set off along the hidden ways, ready for danger. For it was my want to travel with Lævateinn, to keep the eagle's bane safe with me.

By and by, I reached the gate of Muspelheim and Sinmara sat waiting. She plucked Lævateinn from the quiver with her keen eye. "This is a fitting price to bring a torch to those wanting light and heat from Muspelheim. I will keep it until its time of using comes." Sinmara gave me a brand that she had been holding and I ran aloft.

The children of Midgard watched as the torch gleamed against the sky that night. The days grew warmer and through the disguise of a herdsman with his goats, I wandered through Midgard bringing fire to each family. Finally, I came to Mundilfari's home. The sad eyed father looked up at the sky where his beautiful son drove his wagon. I said to Mundilfari as I gave him the brand to light his hearth, "Where shall I set this light since I have gone all over Midgard to every hearth and forge?"

Mundilfari was a wise man. He pointed to the track I had run across the sky. "Set it there that it might be a light to remind us of warmth and the kindness you showed us." So I placed the torch where that star named Sirius burns. And there it remains until the end of days.'