#Moirai Myths

[moiraimyths]

The Good People (Na Daoine Maithe) | Official Trailer

The Good People (Na Daoine Maithe) is a lore-rich and choice-driven historical fantasy visual novel inspired by Irish mythology and Celtic folklore. Play as a tenant farmer from mid-19th century Ireland, whose path becomes inexplicably entwined in fairy affairs after getting robbed by the roadside and lured into the mythic and war-torn world of Tír na nÓg: A once unified land, now divided into the Seelie and Unseelie Courts. Will you escape and return home with your stolen belongings? Or does fate have something else in mind?

🍃 STEAM 🍂 ITCH.IO 🍃PATREON 🍂DISCORD 🍃

Eager to play? Certain route content is available NOW in early access on Steam and Itch.io! For more information, click below👇

Meet the Cast

Facts & Questions: The Game

🍃 The Good People (Na Daoine Maithe) is a Kickstarter-funded project currently in development. Due to the scope of the story, we will be releasing it serially over several years to Steam and Itch.io, and discounting it while in early access. The earlier it's bought, the cheaper it will be overall, and you'll only need to buy the game once!

🍂 Not all routes are currently available! As of Nov. 1, 2024, you can play half of Shae and Maeve's routes; both approximately 50k words. If you're not sure about paying for an unfinished game, feel free to check out our free demo first. It consists of Vol. 1, Book of the Traveller (the pre-route content). Differences between the demo's Vol. 1 and the paid game's Vol. 1 are marginal following our August 1, 2024 re-release of the demo.

🍃 The Good People (Na Daoine Maithe) has a recommended reading order (Vol. 1, then 2, then 3, etc.), which will correspond to the release order of the routes. For more information on our reasoning behind this, click here.

🍂 Due to its setting, The Good People (Na Daoine Maithe) will occasionally feature instances of characters speaking in Gaeilge, i.e. the Irish language. All instances of Gaeilge are linked to an internal translation tool, which is voiced by Nigel McKeon, a Gaeilgeoir.

🍃 The main character is yours to shape. At minimum, you must choose a nickname, pronouns, and one of four default appearances, the last of which can be your own artwork (instructions are included in the game's files). You may also choose to discard the True Name…

🍂 All routes, both current and upcoming, will have both romantic and platonic choice options. If you're uninterested in romance, feel free to make friends instead! No matter the nature of your relationship, you will still be able to reach the good end. (Want to learn more? Refer to this post!)

🍃 Our cast consists of two men, two women, and two non-binary characters. All are romancable no matter the MC, but some characters are asexual or on the aromantic spectrum, which may impact aspects of their romances.

🍂 If you are a Mac user and are having issues launching the game via the Itch direct download, refer to this guide for troubleshooting before sending us an ask. We strongly recommend purchasing the game through Steam instead of Itch if you are a Mac user; it is the best way to avoid issues with launching the game.

🍃 NDM is very intentionally set just prior to the onset of the Great Famine, which is both thematically and textually relevant to the leftist, anti-imperialist story we're aiming to tell. If you would like more insight into this, refer to this post.

🐎 There are secrets to be found in this game, with more yet to come. Prepare yourself for a lot of horse related shenanigans. 🐎

Facts & Questions: The Company

🧵 Moirai Myths is a five-person company based out of Canada. The core devs/founders go by Clotho, Lachesis, and Atropos. All writing and programming are done by this collective, i.e. the Fates.

🪡 Moirai Myths has a two person in-house artist team consisting of Kazane, our Character/UI Designer, and Melinoe, our Environmental Designer. In addition to them, though, we have had a number of guest artists assist us with the creation of sprites, CGs, and an assortment of other materials. If you'd like to meet them, check out our about page on our website!

✂️ Moirai Myths stands with the people of Palestine 🇵🇸

Disclaimer: This description will be updated periodically. If you're reading this in a reblog, you may want to check our current pinned post for potential changes.

[nirinart]

whatever you do, don't think about Flannán with his hair down ✨

From The Good People IF <3

[melinoethenightmareartist]

Official Aífe propaganda. 👻

[mango512]

So there’s this gorgeous up-and-coming dating sim game called The Good People created by @moiraimyths that just released a new revamped demo!! The art is beautiful, the writing is thoughtful and engaging, and man oh man is this bisexual enjoying all the love interests 😳 It’s based off Irish mythology! And the story takes place in Tír na nÓg where the Seelie and Unseelie are divided and at war with each other. This gorgeous long haired fella is Flannán, king of the Unseelie!! He’s got such a great calm, but powerful feel about him.

[madcat-world]

Lachesis (1 of 5) - Anna Podedworna

[chthonioi]

Hecate or the Three Fates, 1795.

— William Blake (England, 1757–1827)

[pmamtraveller]

THE MOIRAI; GODDESSES OF FATE

The Moirai are the Greek goddesses of fate. They are the daughters of Nyx, the goddess of night, and Kronos, the Titan king. From birth till death, human life is under the control of the three sisters of fate through their thread.

The three Moirai are: Clotho, who is the "Spinner" she spins the thread of life and, therefore, can decide on what direction it will take and what major events will happen within that life. Lachesis, the "Apportioner of Lots," measures out the thread and determines the length of life. Atropos is "She who cannot be turned," and she cuts the thread, ending life.

The moirai are very powerful both to the gods and human beings. This is because they determine every individual's fate, and there is no escaping the decisions they make. Even the king of the gods, Zeus, has to surrender to their will.

The three Moirai are typically represented as old women. Clotho with a spindle, Lachesis has a measuring rod, and Atropos has a pair of shears. They are associated with threads: as such, they represent the fabric of life and destiny.

Present since birth of any mortal, they twist the thread of life. They also have a duty to determine the time of death by cutting the thread and ending life.This process is seen as a natural part of the cycle of life and death.

[greekmythcomix]

The Moirai (Fates) (2017)

From back in my OG grayscale phase

[moiraimyths]

TRUE FORMS FOR YOUR FAVE FATES JUST DROPPED 👀‼️

Shout out to our lovely character designer (tskazane on IG) for this depictions of our game dev personas ❤️

[sunkissed-psyche]

THANATOS: AN INFODUMP

Thanatos (Θανατος) known to the romans as Mors is the god or daimon (personified spirit) of non-violent death. He is a chthonic deity residing in the underworld.

This post covers his family, symbols, notable myths, epithets, orphic hymn, and my favourite passages about him.

PARENTAGE AND SIBLINGS

His parentage and family can be understood through Hesiod’s Theogony (A Greek epic written in the 8th or 7th B.C)

And Nyx (Night) bare hateful Moros (Doom) and black Ker (Violent Death) and Thanatos (Death), and she bare Hypnos (Sleep) and the tribe of Oneiroi (Dreams). And again the goddess murky Nyx, though she lay with none, bare Momos (Blame) and painful Oizys (Misery), and the Hesperides . . . Also she bare the Moirai (Moirae, Fates) and the ruthless avenging Keres (Death-Fates) . . . Also deadly Nyx bare Nemesis (Envy) to afflict mortal men, and after her, Apate (Deceit) and Philotes (Friendship) and hateful Geras (Old Age) and hard-hearted Eris (Strife).

— Parents: Nyx with no father (Roman versions of his birth name Erebus the father)

— Siblings:

Apate (deceit)

Eris (strife)

Geras (old age)

Hesperides (nymphs of the evening)

Hypnos (sleep) Ker (violent death)

Keres (death-fates)

Moirai (fates)

Momos (blame)

Moros (doom)

Nemesis (retribution)

Oizys (misery)

Oneiroi (dreams)

Philotes (friendship)

SYMBOLS AND APPEARANCE

SYMBOLS

— inverted torch → represents a life being extinguished

— butterfly → symbolises the soul

— sword → indicates his authority to sever the thread of life

— poppies → as a symbol of eternal sleep

— wreath → suggesting eternity, or the cyclical nature of life and death

APPEARANCE

Greek vase paintings depicted him as a winged, older man with a beard and rarely as a young, beardless youth.

Roman sculptures portrayed him as a youth holding an inverted torch and a wreath or butterfly

NOTABLE MYTHS

— THANATOS AND THE BODY OF SARPEDON

As seen in the Iliad, Thanatos and Hypnos are tasked to carry the body of Sarpedon away from the battlefield to Lycia so his brothers and countrymen can give him a respectful burial.

Homer, Iliad 16. 453 ff (trans. Lattimore) (Greek epic C8th B.C.) : "[Hera speaks to Zeus about the approaching death of his son Sarpedon :] ‘But after the soul and the years of his life have left him [Sarpedon], then send Thanatos (Death) to carry him away, and Hypnos (Sleep), who is painless, until they come with him to the countryside of broad Lykia (Lycia) where his brothers and countrymen shall give him due burial with tomb and gravestone.’"

Homer, Iliad 16. 681 ff : "Then [Apollon] gave him [Sarpedon] into the charge of swift messengers to carry him, of Hypnos (Sleep) and Thanatos (Death), who are twin brothers, and these two presently laid him down within the rich countryside of broad Lykia (Lycia)."

— THE CAPTURE OF THANATOS BY SISYPHUS

Sisyphus was the (possibly) founder and king of Corinth and was known as ‘the craftiest on men’ in texts by Homer. In the myth, Thanatos was sent to carry Sisyphus into the underworld. Upon Thanatos’ arrival, Sisyphus who was hiding chained him and in doing do, suspended death across the entire world. Thanatos was later freed by Ares who had noticed an absence of death from the battlefield

Alcaeus, Fragment 38a (trans. Campbell, Vol. Greek Lyric I) (Greek lyric C6th B.C.) : "King Sisyphos (Sisyphus), son of Aiolos (Aeolus), wisest of men, supposed that he was master of Thanatos (Death); but despite his cunning he crossed eddying Akheron (Acheron) twice at at fate's command."

Aeschylus, Sisyphus the Runaway (lost play) (Greek tragedy C5th B.C.) : Weir Smyth (L.C.L.) quotes from Pherecydes, a C5th B.C. mythographer, in his discussion of the plot of this lost play: "The drama was satyric; its theme, the escape from Haides of the crafty Korinthian king. According to the fabulous story told by Pherekydes (Frag. 78 in Müller,Fragmenta Historicum Graecorum) Sisyphos made known to Asopos that it was Zeus who had carried off his daughter Aigina; in punishment for which offence the god sent Thanatos (Death) against the babbler; but Sisyphos bound Thanatos (Death) fast, so that men ceased to die, until Ares came to the rescue, released Thanatos, and gave Sisyphos into his power."

— THANATOS WRESTLED BY HERACLES

In the Euripides, a Greek tragedy written in the 5th C B.C. Thanatos is wrestled by Heracles to save the life of Alkestis. Heracles does this to repay Admetos, Alklestis’

Euripides, Alcestis 839 ff : "Herakles : I must save this woman who has died so lately, bring Alkestis back to live in this house and pay Admetos all the kindness that I owe. I must go there [to the funeral at the graveside] and watch for Thanatos (Death) of the black robes (melampeplos), master of dead men (anax nekrôn), and I think I shall find him drinking the blood of slaughtered beasts beside the grave. Then, if I can break suddenly from my hiding place, catch him, and hold him in the circle of these arms, there is no way he will be able to break my hold on his bruised ribs, until he gives the woman up to me. But if I miss my quarry, if he does not come to the clotted offering, I must go down, I must ask Kore (Core, the Maiden) [Persephone] and the Master (Anax) [Haides] in the sunless homes of those below (domos anêlios)."

EPITHETS

Greek

- Paean -> the healing (delivers men from the pains and sorrows of life)

- Melampeplos -> of the black robes

- Anax Nekron -> master of dead men

English (these are ones I've derived from text so partial upg)

- insatiable

- dreadful/dreaded one

- awful god

- with a heart of iron

- without mercy

Latin

- Acherontis - inflicter of Acheron (woe)

ORPHIC HYMN

The Fumigation from Manna. Hear me, O Death [Thanatos], whose empire unconfined, extends to mortal tribes of every kind. On thee, the portion of our time depends, whose absence lengthens life, whose presence ends. Thy sleep perpetual bursts the vivid folds, by which the soul, attracting body holds: Common to all of every sex and age, for nought escapes thy all-destructive rage; Not youth itself thy clemency can gain, vigorous and strong, by thee untimely slain. In thee, the end of nature's works is known, in thee, all judgment is absolved alone: No suppliant arts thy dreadful rage control, no vows revoke the purpose of thy soul; O blessed power regard my ardent prayer, and human life to age abundant spare.

MY FAVOURITE MISC. COLLECTION OF TEXTS

Hesiod, Theogony 758 ff (trans. Evelyn-White) (Greek epic C8th or C7th B.C.) : . . . These are Hypnos (Sleep) and Thanatos (Death), dread divinities. Never upon them does Helios, the shining sun, cast the light of his eye-beams, neither when he goes up the sky nor comes down from it. One of these [Hypnos], across the earth and the wide sea-ridges, goes his way quietly back and forth, and is kind to mortals, but the heart of the other one [Thanatos] is iron, and brazen feelings without pity are inside his breast."

Aeschylus, Fragment 82 Niobe (from Stobaeus, Anthology 4. 51. 1) (trans. Weir Smyth) (Greek tragedy C5th B.C.) : "For, alone of gods, Thanatos (Death) loves not gifts; no, not by sacrifice, nor by libation, canst thou aught avail with him; he hath no altar nor hath he hymn of praise; from him, alone of gods, Peitho (Persuasion) stands aloof."

Aeschylus, Fragment 141 Philoctetes (from Stobaeus, Anthology 4. 52. 32) : "[The wounded Philoktetes (Philoctetes) laments :] ‘O Death (thanatos), the healer (paian), reject me not, but come! For thou alone art the mediciner of ills incurable, and no pain layeth hold on the dead.’"

[withoutyouimsaskia]

Sometimes It's Fated (Sandman Short Story Part 1)

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

​GIF: Originally posted by @tavners

Pairing: Morpheus/Dream of the Endless x AFAB reader

Summary: Reader Self-Insert. After restoring the Dreaming and locating the missing dreams and nightmares, Morpheus turns his attention to finding you, the human he believes fate has chosen for him. (Title inspired by Placebo's "This Picture".)

Warnings: Minors DNI. Dark!Morpheus. Soulmates. Angst. Obsessive and possessive behaviour. Tension. Home invasion. Voyeurism. Implied masturbation. Dream manipulation.

Word Count: 2.6k

A/N: Wow, this took way longer to finish than I had originally planned. My head's been all over the place with trying (and thus far failing) to find a new job. The themes are very different to what I've written before; I hope it reads okay. Please let me know what you think. All my love, Saskia xx

Sandman Masterlist

---------------------------------------------

Fate.

A phenomenon that governed every particle of matter within the known universe and even those beyond.

Some considered it a comforting concept that excused them from the burden of decision making, citing: "I'll leave it up to fate." For others the phrase was a cursory, throw-away comment or a romantic line they heard in the lyrics of a song.

The real truth of the matter was that Fate was a trio of immortal beings, goddesses, with sight so potent that they knew the past, present and future of every individual to have lived. The mythology of the Greeks, Romans and Norse hadn't been too far off with their stories of the Moirai, Parcae and Norns but of course, no humans really believed there to be any realism in myths. They were just stories. It didn't matter either way; they existed and had influence regardless of what the majority believed.

For beings such as The Endless siblings, the presence of Fate in the cosmos was not only real, but also something that affected even themselves.

For the King of Dreams, an eventuality had been prophesised long ago by The Kindly Ones that spoke of a bond that was to be forged between himself and a mortal.

Lord Morpheus, in his pride, had tried to be above such a foretelling, even questioning its validity because the notion of a mortal accepting his version of the universe seemed wholly implausible.

But he could not truly stop himself from wondering about you, reaching out to see if he could feel your presence in the minds of the dreamers he hosted.

It wasn't something he indulged in with frequency. More of a once-in a-decade interval. Enough to appease his curiosity.

Of course, this was put on hold during his imprisonment at Fawney Rig.

Morpheus had had much to contemplate during this period. The damage his absence caused to the collective subconscious, the decay of his realm, the loss of freedom and dignity. There was also a chance that you had been born and died in the 106 years he spent in captivity.

What if he was too late and had lost the chance of discovering who you were?

It was a nauseating prospect that scraped and scratched a space deep within his being; bleeding him of his remaining stores of hope that were so significantly depleted after the death of beloved Jessamy.

Despite the nasty emotional wound, finding you was a charge that he assigned at the end of his priorities after his escape.

Recovering his scattered tools, restoring the Dreaming, locating his absent creations, unravelling the mystery of Rose Walker and confronting Desire all had needed to come first.

The latter interaction had left Morpheus with a seething rage that was currently propelling him down the boards of the dock that sit above the Ocean of Dreams.

The dense mist in the air is buffeted by his movements and the only sounds are the tread of boots, the creak of wooden slats and the lap of water.

With each step, the liquid becomes choppier as it reacts to its master's mood and by the time he has reached the end of the dock, the surface of the water roils fervorously, completely in line with Morpheus' dangerous temperament.

The words of Desire's final silken-toned taunt echo in his mind with grating persistence.

"Oh, poor Dream. I really got under your skin this time, didn't I?"

He is loathe to admit there is truth in the question.

There are moments where Morpheus ponders the turn that the relationship between them has taken. How Desire went from being his favourite sibling to someone one shade shy of an adversary. Their faultless adeptness at provoking his temper and manipulating the events that encircle him would be impressive if not for the danger posed to humanity.

The agitated water eventually draws focus to how out of control he and his emotions have become. Morpheus knows he must get them in check, and quickly, for he knows the consequences all too well should he ignore it.

He clenches his fist and swallows it all down, pushing it deep inside his belly until the crackling entropy of the anger is fully dispelled.

Morpheus then sweeps his coat out behind him as he sinks lithely into a crouch. Trepidation nips at his heart and tugs his attention to a sobering thought.

This foray into the water may be fruitless.

You may be long gone and there would be no way of ever knowing you.

His nostrils flare as he takes a deep breath; he has run out of excuses to not look, even if he is afraid of the outcome.

Long, delicate fingers dapple the surface of the inky ocean. The waves still at the touch, obedient to him with instancy.

He repositions to full height and reaches into his coat to find the pouch of sand stashed in the pocket. A handful of twinkling grains slip off his palm into the ocean, lighting the water it touches to a luminous green.

"Find my soulmate," Morpheus commands silently.

The intention is set. He steps off the dock into the water.

At first, like every other prior attempt, there is no sign of you. Morpheus floats submerged in the tepid liquid, filtering through the hubbub of countless other dreams and nightmares.

Then there is a pull.

It is faint yet indisputable. Warmth explodes in his chest and he groans inwardly from the delicious sensation of relief.

You are alive, and you are dreaming.

A path of radiance appears in the water, a line that shows your connection, and provides a location for him to hone in on.

Morpheus dives deeper without hesitation.

As he reaches the edge of your subconscious, he rejoices that he got a handle on his emotions. He wouldn't want your first perception of him to be one tinged with rage, however unaware you were of him, with your soulmate being the source.

He hesitates for a moment before entering the dream you are in and is somewhat taken aback by what he finds.

A room comprising of four blank walls, a floor, a ceiling and a door. There is but one other feature; a window, and its view is as non-descript and inoffensive as the internal space.

You stand by said window, head turned from him.

Despite being unable to see your face, he sees your anxiety with immediacy. It is an aura hovering about your body, being sucked into your lungs with every fast-paced breath.

You begin to throw glances towards the door. Morpheus filters through the layers of the dream. No one is scheduled to come across the threshold.

The more he observes, the more questions arise in Morpheus' mind.

What was making you so affected? What were you expecting to happen?

There's nothing in the scene that is intended to be unpleasant yet you are reacting in a way that most observers would characterise as unsettled.

Morpheus, despite not yet knowing you, doesn't like to see you this way. His dominant instinct is to end the dream but he quashes the desire to review the bigger picture.

The empty room dream was symbolic of a beginning.

It clicks into place.

What you were feeling, even if on a purely instinctual level, was the anticipation of meeting your soulmate and starting your new life.

Morpheus steps into the frame, just a couple of paces behind you.

You feel his presence instantly, eyes full to the brim with tears as you whirl around with a soft gasp.

You see him.

The tears spill and patter onto the white floor.

Morpheus reaches out, overcome by his need to provide comfort.

You disappear.

-------------------------------------

Morpheus is sat on his throne. He pores over the book he had located in the Dreaming's library a little over a week ago that contains the details of your life. It is something he has taken to doing when the impatience of waiting for you to fall asleep becomes too keen.

Your subconscious has him enraptured, watching it every night as if it is a stage show. Each dream he delves into is like the tug of fingers on a loose thread, your psyche has begun to unravel before him.

Everything from whims to cravings, hopes to fears. Your temperament, the things that delight and irk you. What drives you and demotivates you. He consumes it all with an insatiable hunger.

Based on the projection of yourself that he sees, there is no doubt that he is attracted to you.

All that prior haughty disregard for the Fates' prophecy has been cast aside like a negative thought in a meditation session. Morpheus is a romantic. A believer. He is ashamed to have even doubted your coming.

He wonders if it would vex Desire to learn of him finding his soulmate and by extension, the prospect of companionship, perhaps even physical intimacy or love.

It is all too easy to imagine the sickly sweet grin they would smile at him, shown to be fake by the almost imperceptible contempt glinting in their golden eyes.

Would his triumph drive them to distraction?

It is this smug sentiment that spurs his next decision. He wants more. The next logical step is to find you in the waking world.

He rises from his throne, a sure hand ready to bring forth his pouch of sand when he falters.

Tears pool in his eyes.

His mind is suddenly marred with the memories of what happened in 1916. The agony, mortification and rage that followed. He couldn't go through that kind of treatment ever again and the waking world expanded the risk of it transpiring.

"No," he says resolutely. His sadness turns to resolve, the hard line of his grimace matching those set in his brows.

He will not let the actions of a group of mortals dissuade him from going to you. And besides, he has researched everything he can about you from within the safety of the Dreaming.

He takes a measure of sand and uses it to materialise within your bedroom.

It is obvious from a quick scan of it that deliberate attempts have been made to ensure the space is cosy and calming.

Two marshmallowy pillows support your head. The cotton sheets have been meticulously tucked to avoid drafts. A lavender reed diffuser fragrances the air with a subtle scent. There are no devices or screens visible.

Everything has its place. A coaster supported glass of water within reaching distance. Touch activated lamp in case of emergency. The diary lined up with the back left corner of the bedside table, pen placed parallel in the spine dent. All clothes are in the wardrobe or stashed in the laundry basket.

Morpheus moves to the curtain-shrouded window and delicately moves the dark, heavy fabric to catch a glimpse of the outside world.

The scene is sepia stained from an old streetlight positioned right outside your home. It explained the choice of curtains.

You stir slightly from the change in environment and Morpheus allows the curtain to fall back in place. He remains stationary until your breathing returns to its previous pace. It is imperative that his presence remains undisclosed. He knows that mortals do not take well to home invasion.

Then, your right hand slips out from the duvet cocoon revealing a cushion cut ruby ring on your middle finger.

He smiles exultantly. The similarity between the jewel and his own now-destroyed dreamstone was undeniable.

The Fates were making it transparent.

You were the one.

Morpheus approaches the side of your bed now. In your momentary discomfort, you had moved your head, making your whole face visible to your uninvited guest.

He bends gracefully so his face is closer to yours and observes you with an intent fascination.

Even in the gloom, Morpheus asserts that your features are even more captivating now that he is able to look upon them in person and is certain that if he could guarantee an absence of fear then he would fall to knees and worship you right there.

Fingers stroke a lock of hair splayed across the pillow and his thoughts turn darker still, imagining what he would do with you if he could get you alone in the Dreaming. How he would seduce you with words, and then pleasure your body with his own until you were senseless.

Getting you there would be so easy, all he needed to do was move his hand up and touch your skin and -

Morpheus stops himself, deciding that now is not the time for an introduction. He will wait until tomorrow. You need to rest. It will be quite the revelation for your sweet mortal heart.

Morpheus whispers a promise, "We will be together soon, my precious soulmate."

He leaves after taking one last look at your peaceful form.

When he returns to the Dreaming, Morpheus discovers that the visit has riled him way beyond what he thought possible.

It was supposed to sate his curiosity and answer some questions.

It has done the opposite.

His craving for you is sublimely intense, opiate-like in its ensnarement.

He needs to possess you. To have you all to himself. Everything would fall into place. Loneliness, disillusionment, jealousy; they would never darken his outlook again. You would heal him, he is certain of it.

He paces restlessly in the low light of his private chambers as heat ripples beneath the surface of his being, charging him with pure sexual lust.

He hungers for the moment when you feel the same about him.

For now, all he can do is stand and touch himself while thinking of your face, an act that has been carried out repeatedly in the days since he found you in the Ocean of Dreams.

An erotic idea enters his mind.

Your subconscious is still in the Dreaming; he knows the feeling of it intimately.

Perhaps he could bring you a dream mirroring his own current fantasy.

To give you a taste of what was to come.

A gift that only he could bestow.

The mere thought of it turns him on even more. His back arches and his eyes roll back as he choses the words through which he would deliver the offering.

"Dream of me," Morpheus murmurs breathlessly. "Dream of me."

He repeats the phrase until he is unable to continue, moans taking over the darkened space around him.

-------------------------------------

It is dusk the next day when Morpheus returns to the waking world.

The instant he touches down on the Earth's surface, he knows exactly where to go. The metaphysical connection between you is as strong as the energy pulsing through a ley line.

The city he is directed to is thrumming with life but the side street he stands in has been spared from the furore.

It is fortuitous that he is permitted to be unobserved for Morpheus is struggling now with the urge to get closer.

Providence is pulling him in and also locking him out.

He walks up to the door and then an invisible force makes him back away.

He doesn't even try to fight it.

The Fates hold all the cards. Morpheus is beholden to their each and every whim.

It is surprisingly liberating.

He is dancing in the cross hairs. Blinkered by the tie the universe has fashioned for you.

All he has to do is wait.

The door to the building is pushed open.

-------------------------------------

Taglist: @herfantasyworldd

"Fate. Up against your will. Through the thick and thin. He will wait until you give yourself to him."

[saunne]

AMPHOREUS LORE - AGLAEA ANALYSIS

So, I think everyone saw it, but we were graced today with the drip marketing for Aglaea, a 5-Star Lightning unit on the brand new Remembrance Path. Hence the reason why I’m back from the dead, in order to dissect and analyze everything I can about this sliver of lore we were given.

1. Who is Aglaea in Greek Mythology ?

Aglaea (Ἀγλαΐα) can be translated to “splendor”, “radiance”. It is the name of the youngest of the Charites or Graces, minor goddesses said to be patronesses of amusement and festivities, presiding over things such as grace, beauty, adornment, mirth, banquet, rest, happiness, relaxation etc. Although there are many names associated with the Charites, it is customary to recognize three main ones : Aglaea (Splendor, Beauty and Adornment), Euphrosyne (Cheer, Mirth, Merriment and Joy) and Thalia (Abundance, Festivities and Banquets). 

The Charites also served as attendants for Hera and Aphrodite, Homer specifically associating them to the retinue of Aphrodite. There are also mentions of their involvement with the Underworld and the Eleusinian Mysteries (secret rites for Persephone and Demeter), although exact sources on this specific part are lacking. I’m still keeping it however, for some specific reasons.

They were said to be the daughters of Zeus and Eurynome, one of the elder Okeanides. However, according to the Orphic Hymns, their mother would rather be Eunomia, the goddess of good order and lawful conduct. Their godly father being Zeus, it could explain why Hoyoverse chose to make Aglaea a Lightning unit.

Another interesting fact is that Aglaea is sometimes equated with Charis and according to Hesiod’s Theogony, this would make her Hephaestus’ wife, following his divorce with Aphrodite. This is interesting for one specific reason : the automatons surrounding her in her drip marketing. Hephaestus was the Olympian god of fire, smiths, craftsmen and metalworking and some of his greatest achievements were the Automatones, animated metal statues of animal, men and monsters. Among these Automatons, we find the Kourai Khryseai (Golden Maidens) : woman-shaped, gold automatons serving as attendants for his palace.

2. What can we guess from her titles ?

In the drip marketing post, we were offered a gaggle of titles : Dressmaster of Okhema, Chrysos Heir, Weaver of Gold, Goldweaver, bearer of the Coreflame of Romance… Although they may seem a little obscure, they actually refer to quite a number of things.

Chrysos (χρῡσός) means “gold”, or in a more poetic sense, “something dear and precious”. However, it’s more the “gold” aspect which will interest us, notably because of Aglaea’s character design which is covered in it. Gold was primarily associated with deities, symbolizing power, authority, wealth and eternal life (think about the golden apples of the Hesperides).

This brings us to the title “Goldweaver”, which is also fascinating. In Greek Mythology, one of the well-known weaving myth is about the Moirai, the three sisters personifying destiny and weaving the fate of every being in existence. Being the weaver, Aglaea would be equated to Clotho, the Moirai responsible for spinning the thread, responsible for choosing when a person was born as well as when deities or mortals were to be saved or put to death, being able to resurrect people of her choosing (for example Pelops, Tantalus’ son).

However, another weaving myth is preponderant in Greek mythology : Arachne and Athena weaving contest, a long known cautionary tale about the consequences of hubris in the face of the divine. Athena and Hephaestus were considered as the great patrons both of the useful and elegant arts, as Athena was also the goddess of crafts such as pottery and weaving. Aglaea’s title as “Dressmaker” could be a reference to this, and more particularly to the Arrephoros, girl acolytes in the cult of Athena Polias, responsible for supervising the weaving of the peplos used during the Panathenaea. Or it could also be a reference to the Charites’ role as Aphrodite’s attendants, as Homer mentioned they were the one to weave and dye her peplos.

Finally, Coreflame of Romance would have been the most obscure title, if not for all the previous explanations about the Charites’ association with Aphrodite. According to the Dionysiaca, there was once a time when Aphrodite attempted to weave better than Athena out of jealousy, aided in her endeavor by the Charites, Aglaea being the one passing her the yarn. 

3. What about Okhema and Amphoreus ?

Okhema is here referenced to be a city, but we already met that word, in a slightly different form : “Regret of Infinite Ochema”, the Trace material given by Phantylia. An Okhema (ὄχημα) is a carrier/vehicle for the soul in Neoplatonism. It is particularly important in Plato’s Myth of Er, where the main character recount his journey in the afterlife, including an account of reincarnation and the celestial spheres of the astral plane. A city named Okhema could imply either the “vehicle” aspect of the okhema, maybe being a moving city…. or since an okhema could be thought as a recipient for a soul, that the city itself could play a role in anchoring the souls of its inhabitants or allowing their travels/transport from one point/place/state to another.

We’ve got another thing about Okhema, the part “holy city kissed by dawn”. Many places could be considered “holy” in greek mythology. One of them is Elefsina, known as Eleusis and holy site of the Eleusinian Mysteries mentioned earlier alongside Delphi, where is kept the omphalos (the chinese name for Amphoreus is the word omphalos). However, the “kissed by dawn” was more interesting, as Greek mythology have a personification of the dawn in the goddess Eos, often equated with Hemera.  Eos’ myths are heavily connected to Aphrodite, in addition to her being the mother of the Anemoi, the greek gods of the winds and in the post, Aglaea said “the wind brought me news of you”.

About Amphoreus… we know next to nothing about it, except its moniker “The Eternal Land” and that it is “hidden away from outside observation, its presence only revealed by the light from the mirror of the Garden of Recollection” according to Black Swan. It was also mentioned that it was  “fettered by three Paths” and given the involvement of the Garden, it seems safe to bet on Remembrance being one of them. I think Amphoreus could honestly be a place filled to the brim with memoria, if not entirely dreamscape-like, similarly to Penacony’s Dreamscape.

Amphoreus reference the amphora, a container used for the storage and transportation of various goods such as wine and oil, in addition to being a common support for vase painting. One interesting thing is that painted amphoras were often used for funerary purposes, as graves markers or recipients for funeral offerings or human remains. Which is even more interesting considering that the post mentioned “the dying land of Amphoreus”, which leads me to think that one of the three Paths fettering Amphoreus might be Finality. 

As for why it’s dying, the answer is quite explicit when you know your mythology : “they will smite down the gods, return the divine fire”. This is Prometheus myth, and if we have Prometheus myth, we have Pandora’s Box in tow. And  tell me, what is a pithos if not a massive amphora ? In Prometheus’ myth, the gods didn’t take back the gift of fire, but what if they did in Amphoreus ? In addition to letting their Pandora release the curses of death, sickness and all other various evils to plague humankind ?

The idea of Remembrance and Finality being two of the three Paths in Amphoreus is even more endorsed by the mention of granting rebirth.  We know that Fuli’s realm “Eden of Blessed Insight” also known as the Pure Land of Recollection, serves to store memories that “shall serve to reshape the entirety of the world after its annihilation”. It’s basically backup data in case of inevitable doom, in order to recreate the universe as it once was. Aglaea having a “Mnestia” as Divine Authority is also adding to it, as Mnestia more than probably comes from “mnestic”, meaning “pertaining to memory”.

That’s one of the reason why I kept the information about the Charites being linked to the Underworld and the Eleusinian Mysteries, between the funerary amphoras, the okhema and Myth of Er and now that, it seems important enough to keep track of any references to death and rebirth. The aforementioned “Chrysalis” is also counting in said references, as it’s a common symbol for death and rebirth by metamorphosis/transformation.

I have another theory to talk about, but this is already long enough  I fear.

[a-d-nox]

alkeste, the loyal wife (asteroid 124)

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Alcestis was the daughter of King Pelias. When she came of age he sought to marry her off on one condition; he would only marry her to a man who could harness both a lion and a boar to the same chariot. Admetus, Alcestis' cousin, was capable of preforming such a feat because Apollo had wished to thank him for his kind employment during his exile post-Asclepius. When it was Admetus' time to die - after Apollo asks the Moirai for an extension and they tell him life is only paid for with death - no one wished to take his stead in the Underworld. He expected his aged parents to step in and neither of them did... Alcestis, however, loved her husband immensely, so she volunteered to die in his stead. She died and he wished to die too having lost his soulmate but he did nothing to stop or join her. Heracles having travelled with Admetus during the era of the Argonauts offered to return her after seeing how distraught he was. In some versions, it is Persephone that returns Alcestis from the Underworld. Upon her return, she was not able to speak for three days, and remained pale and shadow-like, until she was purified. The play by Euripides ends with no further explanation at this point. In other versions, Alcestis and Admetus have children and live a long and happy existence. IN MY OPINION Alkeste in your chart can represent a) what you will do for those you love, b) where you sacrifice yourself for someone unworthy, and/or c) where your actions speak more fluently than your words do.

i encourage you to look into the aspects of alkeste along with the sign, degree, and house placement. for the more advanced astrologers, take a look at the persona chart of alkeste AND/OR add the other characters involved to see how they support or impede alkeste!

OTHER RELATED ASTEROIDS: heracles (5143), apollo (1862), admetos (85030), moira (638), persephone (399), and euripides (2930)!

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return to nox’s guide to metaphysics

return to the masterlist of greek myths & legends

[muiromem]

Kathryn Janeway - "The Fates"

The Moirai of Greek myth. The youngest, Clotho - the spinner who controlled life, choosing when a person was born and weaving their thread of existence. The middle one, Lachesis - the allotter who measured out the length of this thread and decided a person's destiny. And the eldest, Atropos - she who was inevitable that ended a mortal's life, cutting the thread and choosing the manner of their death.

[firinnie]

MYTH-TOBER 2024 2. Hera

So I came to the conclusion that I would like to add my favorite little facts about the gods while doing this here, so first up is Hera (and a bit Zeus, because there was nothing about him yesterday)

Do you know that Hera wasn't Zeus' first wife? She was most likely the third, or possibly the fifth! First was probably the most famous Metis (Athena's mother) and the second Themis (with whom he had 6 children - the Horae and the Moirai) and at this point Eurynome with Mnemosyne OR Hera probably appear. Either way, I think we can all agree that she had no choice and was drawn into a relationship with her brother, right? On the more pleasant side, they had a fairly well-known son Ares and daughters who are much less talked about - Eileithyia & Hebe, the goddess of fertility and youth. It is sometimes said that their common child was also Hephaestus (although I personally prefer to make him just Hera's son) and Eris, Ares' supposed twin sister, although in other versions she is Nyx's daughter.

Hera was ironically the goddess of women and marriage, poor girl needs a break. Her sacred bird was the peacock, which apart from symbolizing immortality and beauty, the Greeks believed that she created this animal when her many eyed bodyguard Argus died. She just gathered his eyes and placed them on this tail feather.

And finally, did you know that Hera literally beat Artemis' ass with her own bow, in the Iliad? Like, this is not some unknown interesting fact, but in general I remember the first time I heard it I was like "Shoot, Hera is really the mother of mothers, you better not mess with her".

That's all, these are the interesting things about Hera. Hope you like it! :)

Inctober by @/arkhaos.art (on ig)

[bradleysass]

Myth - @black-brothers-microfic - wc: 696 - Starchaser

so, I took it literally and I made them into a Greek Epic :) Iakobos is James in Greek and Basiliskos is Regulus in Greek.

In the age when gods still walked among men and the stars whispered omens to those who would listen, there were two warriors whose fates were woven together by the Moirai. One was Iakobos, son of the Stag, whose golden helm gleamed like Helios’ chariot as he rode into battle, laughter upon his lips and fire in his heart. The other was Basiliskos, son of the Serpent, whose blade was as swift as Hermes' flight and whose eyes held the wisdom of Athena, yet the sorrow of a man who had seen too much.

Iakobos was beloved by all, his hands shaped for both sword and embrace, a hero sung by poets and praised by kings. He was the sun, burning bright and unyielding. Basiliskos, by contrast, was a shadow in the halls of power, a prince raised among vipers, his words measured like the waves upon Poseidon’s shore—calm until they crashed in fury. He was the moon, silver and sharp, always watching, always waiting.

It was in the siege of Myriandros, beneath the bloodied sky, that their destinies entwined. Iakobos, bold and reckless as ever, led his men against the city’s walls, unaware that within the citadel, Basiliskos stood among his father’s forces, his black cloak billowing like the banners of Ares himself. When their swords met in the din of war, the heavens held their breath. The Stag and the Serpent, two warriors unmatched, clashed as though they were titans of old.

Yet war is but a cruel jest of the gods. Iakobos, instead of striking a fatal blow, laughed—a rich, full sound that rang through the battlefield. "I have found no equal until this day! Tell me your name, dark prince, so that I may carve it into the pillars of history!"

Basiliskos did not answer, only pressed forward with a renewed fury, for he had been raised to see love as a weakness, and Iakobos fought as if love was all he had ever known. And so it was, in the hours of battle that stretched into eternity, the two became not only rivals but something deeper, something that made the gods lean in to watch.

But theirs was a love destined for ruin. When the city fell, and the banners of Iakobos' people were raised, Basiliskos was bound in golden chains, taken as a prisoner rather than slain. And though Iakobos fought against fate, pleaded with the gods, cursed Olympus itself—Zeus had already decided their doom. For the gods do not favor mortal love, least of all one that defied their order.

When the Oracle of Delphi spoke of a betrayal, Iakobos was told he would be undone by the one he loved most. And so, when Basiliskos was found at the temple steps, blade red with the blood of a fallen king, Iakobos was forced to make a choice—to slay the man who had become his heart, or to forsake his honor, his people, his very name.

He chose love.

They fled to the edges of the world, where the sea kissed the earth and the gods turned their faces away, where they could carve their own myth from the ruins of their pasts. But mortals cannot escape the will of Olympus. As they stood upon the cliffs, hands entwined, the wrath of Zeus came not as thunder, nor as fire, but as the cruel twist of a friend's dagger. Betrayal, not by each other, but by those who could not bear the power of what they had built.

Iakobos fell first, his golden blood spilling upon the stones. Basiliskos, with the last of his breath, called upon the gods—not to save him, but to curse them all. And so, the lovers were swept into the sea, where Thetis took pity and transformed them into stars, bound forever in the sky, just beyond the reach of Olympus.

Sailors whisper of them still, two celestial figures caught in an eternal chase—the Stag and the Serpent, fated to burn together, yet never touch. And when the night is clear, those who remember their names still look up, and weep for what the gods could not allow.