#Liekkiö

[umsisi]

2024/08/11 Let's play Noita!!! Noitaやろうぜ！

[olenvasynyt]

WIP Wednesday! Here's a little snippet of my upcoming submission for Eris Week Day 1: Bonds. Title is The Trees Have Eyes

Summary: When a trading meeting doesn’t go Beron’s way, the Lady of Autumn asks Eris to take his nine-year-old brother Lucien on a hunting trip for an undetermined amount of time to avoid Beron’s wrath.

Lucien pointed to the treeline with a frown.  “Why do those trees have eyes?” he asked curiously.

Eris followed his finger to a group of aspen trees.  The tall, pale giants stood out next to the usual russet coloring of their neighboring trees.  Their greyish white skin resembled bones, and patterned up the trunk were several black markings.  

He could see what Lucien meant: they did look like eyes.  Black, unblinking eyes following their every move. 

Looking ahead, Eris answered, “They’re spies.  They report any bad or suspicious behavior to the High Lord.”

Lucien was quiet for a moment, his eyebrows scrunched together and still fixed on the aspens as he trudged his way through the thicket.  Eris was sure his brother was going to call him out for lying: they weren’t actually eyes: their black knots were scarring from previous branches.  But even if the trees didn’t have eyes for spying, the forest was still watching in other ways.  Some of the trees were on Beron’s side, but even the High Lord couldn’t dictate the nature of the Autumn Court’s forests. 

Lucien carefully brushed aside a tree branch that had clung to his jacket.  “I thought only the birds reported to father,” he finally said, his voice quiet.

Well, Beron couldn’t dictate most things about Autumn’s nature.  But many of the birds, especially the magic species, did report to Beron.  Eris couldn’t count how many times he’d seen a raven or blackbird land on his father’s chair during a meeting and murmur something in his ear.  The Liekkiö birds, the Alkonost…many of the magical birds spied for Beron and reported to him almost daily.  “It’s a team effort,” Eris decided to say, keeping his eyes ahead.  “The trees write the songs and the birds sing them.”

“Do the trees have feet too?” Lucien squinted at the ground as if expecting toes to wiggle up from the dirt.

“They do.  Be careful or they’ll try to trip you.”

Barely a second later, Lucien stumbled, his boots snagging on an exposed root.  Eris went to catch him, a laugh rising up in his throat.  But Lucien brushed him aside with a tenseness in his shoulders.

They continued along the trail west.  Lucien was unusually silent, his eyes constantly flickering back and forth at their surroundings.  No more questions spewed out of the boy’s mouth, but Eris could easily guess he still had a hundred more.  Lucien was no doubt thinking about what Eris had said.  As well as what he didn’t say.  He was clever like that: he could read in between Eris’ guises, feel for any underlying message.  

The silence that hung in between them was only broken by the usual sounds of the forest: cracking branches under their feet, the occasional sound of a bird tweeting. Eris continued forward, his eyes staring unfocused and blurring the trees and autumn foliage into a blurry kaleidoscope of brown, scarlet, and gold.

If the trees had eyes, and the roots were their feet, and branches their arms and hands, then the red leaves were blood.  The elms and birch and oaks…all of Autumn’s trees had blood-stained hands.  They stretched them up to the gloomy sky and pleaded to the Mother for forgiveness.  And the blood fell as dried, crumbled leaves, dripping onto the forest floor and staining the ground scarlet.

The perfect home for the High Fae of the Forest House.  The perfect home for the Vanserras.  But the Vanserras had more blood stained on their hands than all of the Autumn trees combined.

[transbookoftheday]

My Name Is Magic by Xan van Rooyen

Taika Turunen has no magic.

Despite coming from a long line of powerful Finnish mages, and their name literally meaning magic, Taika can't perform the simplest of spells.

Forced to attend Myrskyjärvi International School for the Magically Gifted on account of their mom being principal, Taika has a hard time fitting in. Sometimes, they wonder if not having magic has something to do with the fact they're neither a girl nor a boy and if they're fated to be "Taika the Talentless" forever.

Life goes from bad to worse when Natalie, Taika's former BFF, is mysteriously absent from class, only to appear to Taika as a liekkiö, a spirit begging for their help. As more students go missing, Taika must take the lead in a race against time to save friends old and new before a powerful group of chaos mages can unleash the legendary Sampo, an artefact capable of either saving the world's waning magic or destroying everything Taika holds dear.

To rescue Natalie, Taika will have to journey to the liminal space between worlds where they'll be forced to battle mythical monsters and their own dwindling self-esteem. In doing so, Taika might just discover that magic-and love-comes in many different forms.

For fans of witchcraft and wizardry looking for a new, inclusive magic school to attend, My Name Is Magic, is a story about finding strength from within and potential where you least expected it.

[the-chade]

Here are some creatures based on Finnish mythology that I designed for a school project :p

[demonsanctuarycomic]

DEMON SANCTUARY EPISODE 13; WHAT ABOUT US? 

This update is based on a Finnish folklore “What About Us?”

A young servant man was walking back home at late evening after drinking all night. At old times, all main roads ran next cemeteries. When the young man passed a cemetery, he waved his hand and said "The God bless you all who have received a cross and christening!" That's what he had heard priests saying.

Soon a group of spirits rose up from the graveyard and started to follow the young man. They kept asking "What about us? What about us?"

Scared, the servant run back to his master, who woke up just to see his home full of spirits. "Young man, what have you done to make the dead follow you?" the master asked?

"Nothing", the servant sobbed. "I just said that God bless you all who have received a cross and christening."

"Oh, you poor thing. These are the souls of unchristened children. You left them without a blessing. Now, go back to the cemetery and bless them, too", the master and the lord of the house advised.

It was already very, very late, but the servant had no choice but to go back to the cemetery. There he raised his hand and sobbed;

"God bless you all."

Immediately, all the dead children had dissapeared.

.............

……………………………….

DEMON SANCTUARY Father Furmann is (tattooed) priest, who rehabilitates demons and frees them back to their natural habitat - because all deserve to be loved. But what to do, when a demon falls in love with you…. Romantic monster comic

Read on Webtoons Read on Tumblr

[lpbestiary]

In Finnish mythology, a liekkiö is the ghost of a murdered child. While often appearing as a spectral version of their living self, liekkiös will sometimes manifest as bright balls of flame.

Though not explicitly harmful, liekkiös will lead travellers astray by crying and pleading. Some believe that they have control over grasses, roots and trees.

Image source.

Monster master list.

Suggest a spook.

[pluviangin]

Inktober day 3. LIEKKIÖ

Liekkiö is a ghost or a soul of a murdered child. Liekkiö didn't do any harm, but sometimes distracted travelling people by crying and whining. In some sources liekkiös looked like flames, similar to will-o'-the-wisps. In his list of the ancient Finnish gods, Mikael Agricola described Liekkiö to be the lord of grass, roots and trees.

(Source: finnish-mythology.fandom.com)

[mareliini]

So, during my summer vacation I visited Tampere art museum and went absolutely unhinged about their current exhibit of the art of Joseph Alanen. I feel the need to state that every time I show up this pic anywhere bc it's not only heavy inspo of his style, but also some patterns are almost entirely lifted off of various pieces of his. This was a test and I'm absolutely loving it and will try to get stuff like this more into my art style.

[bestiarium]

The Liekkiö [Finnish mythology]

In Finnish folklore, there is mention of strange floating flames that can be seen at night. These are the Liekkiö (also called Ihtiriekko or Äpärä), the dwelling spirits of murdered children. They are not evil, and they don’t harm people (although some stories do claim that they suck blood), but they do cry and wail very loudly at night. They haunt the location where they died, and they will continue to do so for as many years as they would have lived, if they had not been killed.

They are also known to annoy people with harmless pranks, such as following them and repeating everything they say, or startling people by suddenly screaming into their ear. Liekkiö spirits are able to turn themselves invisible at will, but often appear in the form of a human infant. Supposedly, they can also shapeshift into a bird, which brings to mind the útburðir, very similar spirits from Iceland. They are also the spirits of killed babies and can also appear in the form of a bird, so I suspect the two stories are related.

Source: https://finnmyth.wordpress.com/2021/05/25/liekkio-ghosts-of-murdered-children/ (image source: Tero Porthan: teroporthan.artstation.com)

[books-to-add-to-your-tbr]

Title: My Name Is Magic

Author: Xan van Rooyen

Series or standalone: standalone

Publication year: 2022

Genres: fiction, LGBT+, fantasy

Blurb: Taika Turunen has no magic. Despite coming from a long line of powerful Finnish mages - and their name literally meaning magic - Taika can’t perform the simplest of spells. Forced to attend Myrskyjärvi International School for the Magically Gifted on account of their mom being principal, Taika has a hard time fitting in. Sometimes, they wonder if not having magic has something to do with the fact they’re neither a girl nor a boy, and if they’re fated to be Taika the Talentless forever. Life goes from bad to worse when Taika sees a liekkiö, and recognises the spirit’s voice begging for help as that of their former BFF and major crush, Natalie Khumalo, whose recent absence from class hadn’t gone unnoticed. When more students go missing, Taika must take the lead in a race against time to save friends old and new before a powerful group of chaos mages can unleash the legendary Sampo - an artefact capable of either renewing the world’s waning magic or destroying everything Taika holds dear. To rescue Natalie, Taika will have to journey to the liminal space between worlds, where they’ll be forced to battle mythical monsters and their own flagging self-esteem. In doing so, Taika might just discover that magic - and love - comes in many different forms.

[niuniente]

Phew! Some monsters for the folklore monster book written down today, too! So far I have

Ajattara - Evil female spirit Aarni - Guardian of treasures Haltija - THE Spirit of pretty much darn everything Hiisi - The most famous mischievous monster Hiiden hirvi - Moose from Hell Hiiden neito - Playful Hiisi maidens Ihtiriekko / Liekkiö - Murdered child Jatuli/Jotuni - West-Finnish giant Kalevanpojat - East-Finnish giants Kalma and Kalmanväki - Death and the Folk of Dead Kave - The Moon eater Kihovauhkonen - The giant predicting world’s end Kipinätär - Monster Cat Kiputyttö - Girl of Pains Kokko - Monster Bird Lempo - Demonic God of Love and evil spirit Loviatar - Mother of 9 disease sons Para - Housewife’s or witch’s helper Pimeän Piika - Servant girl of Darkness Piru - The folklore devil Tumblr loves Surma - Monster hitman and Hell’s dog Vetehinen - Finnish version of The Shape of the Water’s Asset-monster

Many, MANY more monsters to be included! Still missing classics as Maahinen spirit, Lintukotolainen little people folk, Näkki evil mermaid, Iku-Turso the ancient water beast, Tonttu the spirit of households and buildings, Peikko the troll and Rutto the plague.

[regnumveritatis]

Liekkiö

Finnish Mythology

Liekkiö (“flamey”) is the spirit of a murdered child who has been buried in the woods. Liekki in Finnish means ”flame”. Other names for the creature are ihtiriekko or äpärä (bastard). Often it was a child born out of wedlock or that was not baptised. They are said to haunt at their dying place as long as they would have lived had they not been murdered.

The Liekkiö screams, whines, and screeches very loudly in the woods. It follows the living, repeats everything they say, suddenly starts laughing.

In the list of Finnish gods from year 1551 Liekkiö is listed as the god of trees, grass and roots. It is mostly seen and heard in a forest, but it can scream so loud you can hear it all the way from the forest to your house. Sometimes it comes near you and screams right at your ear. But you can never catch it.

The Liekkiö is either invisible or takes the form of a child, a bird, or other animal. Some say it is a black bird with a flaming mouth, others that its lips are red like blood, and it tries to bite people and suck their blood. In this case you must quickly throw a scarf at it, circle it three times and tell it to go to bite the one who left it in the forest instead.

Liekkiö also cries about its situation and asks for help in changing its fate.

Art: Liekkiö, by Tero Porthan

[olenvasynyt]

Snippet from Splinters of Memory, a chapter from my Lucien backstory fic. Beron is cracking down on the Autumn Court as the Tithe is nearing. Lucien witnesses an excecution by whipping and recalls memories.

I feel like some parts and mentions can be a bit confusing since this takes place in the middle of my fic but it's alright! I still like it.

Trigger warning for graphic violence, blood, death, and torture.

Lucien couldn’t remember how old he was when he saw his first whipping, but the memory of it was like a splinter: too small to pick out and too sharp to ignore.  There were only fragments he could recall.  He remembered how cold it was.  Such a stupid bit of information to remember—the Autumn Court was always cold.  But the chill felt peculiar that day.  It was a cold in the air that could curdle blood, could form shards of ice in the tree branches.  It was a cold that only death could produce.

He remembered the screaming.  The prisoner had been strapped to a post in a courtyard and screamed so loud at each strike that Lucien wanted to cover his ears.  

Minutes had passed by, maybe hours.  He couldn’t remember.  Time moved so differently when you were younger; it crept by so painfully slow, whether it was during a boring worship ceremony or a tutor session.  

How sad it was that whippings became just as common to him, just as normal.

And then the screaming stopped.  That was somehow the clearest, most painful part of his memory, the sharp pain of splintered wood.  Not the heartbreaking shrieks of agony, but the silence…the image of the prisoner’s body sagging into the pole with only his ties to hold him up.

But still, the executioner’s fiery scourge continued.  

Lucien didn’t understand it then.  He had always thought that the screaming and pleading were what his father and his court enjoyed.  His father certainly enjoyed it when he tortured him.  

He did not know what to make of this display of violence, so serious and prolonged.  

It had been several minutes since the screaming had stopped when he had asked his mother when they could leave.  Like the scared, ignorant boy he was.  He had tugged on her embroidered sleeve and whispered, “Can we go?” Can we go…

She had hushed him, saying they had to wait. So he had forced himself to watch, his tears long since dried on his face.  

The cracking of the whip continued.  He thought he remembered hearing laughing, but his brothers’ faces had been serious when he looked.  Almost vacant.  

It must be the Liekkiö birds, then.  Hidden somewhere in the leaves.

After a while, he remembered looking up at his mother one last time and saw that she was staring blankly at the whipping post, silently counting.

⌘

Lucien stared down from the top of the battlements, his eyes faded. Listening to the same sound echo through the chilly courtyard: that persistent crack of the scourge, like a thudding of a snare drum, a spade into frozen ground.  The whip made its landing, again and again, a steady, relentless rhythm.  Blood and chunks of flesh flew with the impact, spraying the cobblestone.

The Forest House whipping square felt like it did back then.  Impossibly cold.  His fur-lined coat did not offer any protection from the chill, nor could he use his mother’s warmth for comfort.  He could see her sitting by Beron’s side on the opposite side of the battlements.  It was probably her first appearance to the commoners in decades.  

And it was for this.

Kekri was only a few months away, and Beron was making sure his authority was recognized.  Every year, faeries would attempt to run to try and escape the Tithe they couldn’t afford, including this one.  And they would be hunted down and brought to the Forest House for a ‘trial’, if one could call executions and butchery ‘trials’.  The ankles of his pants were ripped and bloody from the hounds that caught him, and his knees were stained with the blood of the ones before him.  Three were tried today: the two before this one hung dead in the elm tree like rotten fruit.  After Beron deemed the trial finished, this body would join them.

The scourge landed again.  But the only sounds that followed were the clinking of glasses, and the tentative voices of leaves and courtiers muddling together.  The rushing of the Forest House river.

Death.  This was the sound of death. 

The faerie was slumped dead in his ties, just like the rest of the captured runaways did.  How that first prisoner did decades and decades ago, now just a tiny, painful splinter of a memory.  The young, petrified boy Lucien once was had not realized that he had been staring death in the face.  But over the decades, he learned what death looked and sounded like—how his father liked to orchestrate it.  Loud and meticulous in the eyes of the public, or excruciatingly slow and painful in the cover of The Roots…his father enjoyed death in all flavors.  He used death as a lesson for anyone who might defy him.

The High Lord of The Autumn Court sat on his throne, his scarlet robe draped around his legs like a waterfall of blood.  He held a cup of wine and his wife’s hand.  The Lady of Autumn wore a dress of white trimmed with geometric red threading and her hair tied up in a nest of braids.  

She stared blankly down at the whipping post, her lips moving ever so slightly as she counted each lash that landed. That was what she always did.

Lucien couldn’t find a reason why.  Was counting lashings like counting days to her?  Like counting years or centuries?  Did it somehow make it easier?  He didn’t see how it could; he had tried it once or twice, but he learned that it only made the time go slower, made the cracking of the whip seem louder.  So he just watched, his face emotionless, his eyes fading into nothing.  He didn’t flinch anymore—he trained himself not to flinch a long time ago.  

He didn’t realize the whipping had ended until he noticed the hesitant swell of hushed voices.  He blinked and as his eyes focused, he managed to catch the executioner bow to the High Family’s booth before wiping his scourge through his fist, making blood splatter.  Beron stood up; Lucien was aware that he was making some sort of speech about the traditions of the Court, the duties of its citizens, the consequences of betrayal, cowardness, and rebellion…but Lucien couldn’t hear it.  He was busy watching the body being moved—to be added to Beron’s collection that hung from the elm tree.  A few Liekkiö swooped in, to pick at the flecks of blood and chunks of flesh that littered the ground. 

The courtyard began to clear, courtiers standing up from their seats to go inside, commoners being ushered out by sentries. But Lucien remained.  He watched the Liekkiö hop around on the cobblestone, picking at the blood and sinew.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, fingers digging into his coat.  

Eris’ voice was quiet. “Meet me in the stables.”

He felt his brother’s eyes burning into his, but he couldn’t bring himself to meet them.  He looked over his shoulder instead, where the High Lord and Lady of Autumn still sat on their thrones.  Beron seemed to be comforting his mother, stroking her hand and speaking to her in a quiet voice.  She refused to look at him and stared coldly into the space between them instead.

Lucien looked away and forced himself to face Eris.  His brother had his usual mask of haughtiness but there was a hint of something else there.  “Why,” he quietly asked, not finding the energy to snap.

“Brother bonding time.  We’re going to the Spring border.”

Ooh can I ask for Splinters of Memory or Sunlight In A Vase!

I shall do both! Snippet from Sunlight In A Vase will be first and then Splinters of Memory as the second snippet.

Sunlight In A Vase is a chapter from A Court of Embers and Sunlight, my Lucien backstory fic. Lucien gets his mother a bouquet of sunflowers and searches for a book in the Forest House Library.

Other WIPs you can ask about!

Sunlight in A Vase:

Lucien’s mother was in the High Lord’s chambers when he came back from Jesminda’s.  She was sewing as usual, her hands nimble and delicate and her face weary and scrunched with concentration.

She raised her head when he walked in, her face weary and dull.  But her eyes lit up instantly as he presented the flower bouquet with a dramatic flourish.  

“Oh, Lucien!” She set down her hoop and needle and took the bouquet, her smile stretching from ear to ear.  “Sunflowers!  You’re still the little boy who steals from strangers’ gardens to find gifts for me.” She raised an eyebrow at him.  “Are your hands stained green?”

He showed his bare palms to her, grinning.  “I promised you the sun but that’s been a bit hard to steal, so this is the next best thing.”

Will do a reblog of the Splinter of Memory chapter because I want to post a long one.

[darkal27]

Liekkiö from Havukruunu

[historical-rp-memes]

Finnish mythology themed questions for RP characters

Tuonela - Does your character believe in an afterlife? What kind?

Hiisi - Tell us about your character's favourite place of worship, or a favourite spot for a little peace and quiet.

Tapio - How well would your character survive in a forest?

Mielikki - What is your character's favourite outdoor activity?

Vellamo - What is your character's favourite activity on the water?

Ahti - How well does your character fish?

Hongatar - What would your character do if they encountered a bear in the wild?

Juonetar - Would your character rescue a young deer caught in a trap, or eat it?

Käreitär - Is your character clever or wily?

Äimätär - How does your character truly feel about their enemies?

Haltija - What place does your character call home?

Maahinen - How does your character feel about their ancestry?

Iku-Turso - Is your character scared of the deeps of the sea?

Kokko - What is your character's relationship with fire? Tell us about a memorable encounter with fire.

Pohjola - How well does your character deal with cold?

Luonto - Is your character a mentally strong person?

Liekkiö - Is there a secret shame that haunts your character?

[lady-rian]

Liekkiö - Is there a secret shame that haunts your character?

“Would it due to say yes? There may be a couple, not that I’m one big on secrets. I rather prefer transparency given my role in my brother’s house. But yes. I’ve a few secrets and things that have brought me and mine shame. I could have made better choices. I choose to learn from that shame and am doing my best to not repeat them.”

(( OOC she’s not really open to spilling who the true father is of her daughter. Further more she and her brother keep the secrets of what her maternal grandfather and paternal grandmother had studied, necromancy among other darker things. It’s a darkness the twins hope to bury with their new start and keep at arm’s length should the corruption take hold via bloodline or some twisted destiny.))

@elizebella thanks for the ask!