Myth of Liv & Eir
There was a time when all people lived as one, under one ideal, and though there were many clans they all accepted their places and those of each other.
In this time of oneness, before the Separation, there lived two sisters who loved each other dearly. They took joy in each other’s company and could often be heard laughing together as they ran through the trees or swam in the rivers of the Wilds.
Liv was the firstborn of the two. She had hair as dark as a raven’s wing and a fearsome countenance, as majestic and treacherous as the mountains. Eir was younger, with hair the soft brown of chestnuts in autumn and eyes which smiled even when her mouth didn’t. Together they could be kind and helped around their clan, and all agreed there was never a pair of hands more useful than Liv and Eir. The two did everything together.
One day, a man from another clan saw Liv and decided she would make an excellent wife. He told her such, but she and her sister just laughed. He was older than her father and she was not interested in being his wife.
The man did not take the news well.
Eir, ever the peacemaker, explained that she could not bear to be parted from her sister and that neither of them planned to marry any time soon.
The man left, angry, and the two sisters spent the evening joking about what a terrible wife Liv would have made.
Less than a moon passed before the man came around again. He told the sisters that he understood the dilemma and that he had a group of men willing to wed Eir so that the sisters could still be together. Liv’s sharp tongue spoke quicker than her thoughts could catch it and pierced the man’s ego with a few swift blows. Despite all Eir’s efforts, the man left more angry than he had ever been.
Later, while the sisters were sleeping, the man and his friends stole into the camp under the cover of Nokkoæ of the Night and snatched them. They were silenced before they could make a sound and spirited away through the forests.
Days and nights passed and the rest of their clan could not find them, for still they were carried further and further away until they were in a place completely unknown to them. Under the new moon, and against her wishes, Liv was married to the man. But, when he tried to take his pleasure from her, Eir was waiting. For, while she was known as the peacemaker, her smiling eyes hid the fact that she was every bit as deadly as her sister. Eir stabbed the man in the neck with his own blade and, together with her sister, ran as fast and as hard as Tooly of the Wind would allow.
In this time of oneness, before the Separation, there lived two sisters who loved each other dearly. They took joy in each other’s company and could often be heard laughing together as they ran through the trees or swam in the rivers of the Wilds.
Liv was the firstborn of the two. She had hair as dark as a raven’s wing and a fearsome countenance, as majestic and treacherous as the mountains. Eir was younger, with hair the soft brown of chestnuts in autumn and eyes which smiled even when her mouth didn’t. Together they could be kind and helped around their clan, and all agreed there was never a pair of hands more useful than Liv and Eir. The two did everything together.
One day, a man from another clan saw Liv and decided she would make an excellent wife. He told her such, but she and her sister just laughed. He was older than her father and she was not interested in being his wife.
The man did not take the news well.
Eir, ever the peacemaker, explained that she could not bear to be parted from her sister and that neither of them planned to marry any time soon.
The man left, angry, and the two sisters spent the evening joking about what a terrible wife Liv would have made.
Less than a moon passed before the man came around again. He told the sisters that he understood the dilemma and that he had a group of men willing to wed Eir so that the sisters could still be together. Liv’s sharp tongue spoke quicker than her thoughts could catch it and pierced the man’s ego with a few swift blows. Despite all Eir’s efforts, the man left more angry than he had ever been.
Later, while the sisters were sleeping, the man and his friends stole into the camp under the cover of Nokkoæ of the Night and snatched them. They were silenced before they could make a sound and spirited away through the forests.
Days and nights passed and the rest of their clan could not find them, for still they were carried further and further away until they were in a place completely unknown to them. Under the new moon, and against her wishes, Liv was married to the man. But, when he tried to take his pleasure from her, Eir was waiting. For, while she was known as the peacemaker, her smiling eyes hid the fact that she was every bit as deadly as her sister. Eir stabbed the man in the neck with his own blade and, together with her sister, ran as fast and as hard as Tooly of the Wind would allow.
As she ran, Liv prayed to Pylvy of the Clouds to hide them from the other men. Eir, too, prayed, but to Lomy of the Snows, that they may provide clarity and direction. Whether the gods heard them or not, the other men soon discovered they were missing and began their own hunt. They called themselves Men of the Wolves, although no wolf would behave as they did, and as a pack they hunted down the sisters.
They did what they could to avoid capture and asked for help from anyone who would listen. To their surprise, many of the gods favoured them in their time of need. Kokkæ of the Flowers provided them with seeds to sustain them, Voårat of the Mountains aided their navigations and gave them hope. Even Kyvat of the Rocks, who is often fickle, gave them shelter when the sisters thought all was lost.
Eventually, the sisters found themselves faced with a wide river, one they were not certain they could cross. Whether this was an act of Jåat of the River’s trickery or simply misfortune, who can say, but the gods did nothing to help them as the Men of the Wolves closed in.
Seeing no other option, the two sisters jumped into the waters together but, try as they might, the current was too strong and they were swept faster than they could hope to swim into a lake. The lake was deep and dark and had many strange creatures dwelling in its depths. But the sisters did not know this and tried to swim across. They knew the Men of the Wolves were closing in and did not want to risk being caught, even if it meant their lives.
Two-thirds of the way across the lake, Eir’s ankle was snagged by a water creature and she was dragged under. As much as she tried to struggle, she could not break free. But wherever Eir was, Liv was nearby, and so the older sister took the creature’s life and lost her own in return.
When Eir surfaced she was devastated to find her sister no longer by her side. Quickly swimming to the shore, she threw herself into the mud and wailed so loudly that every bird in the Wilds went quiet and listened. She screamed her anger and frustration, crying out her loss, until her tears had formed a lake of their own.
And in her anger, she called on every god she could name to help her. Only one did. Lumi of the Snows heard her cry and felt the desolation of her separation from her sister. So the god offered Eir the chance to be reunited with her sister; they could be together for all eternity, but they would never breathe again. Eir knew each breath, each beat of her heart was pointless without her sister, so she readily agreed.
Lomy of the Snows acted fast, and soon the two sisters were frozen in the centre of their lakes. Liv in the larger, Eir in the smaller, held together by The Bond that could never be broken.
They did what they could to avoid capture and asked for help from anyone who would listen. To their surprise, many of the gods favoured them in their time of need. Kokkæ of the Flowers provided them with seeds to sustain them, Voårat of the Mountains aided their navigations and gave them hope. Even Kyvat of the Rocks, who is often fickle, gave them shelter when the sisters thought all was lost.
Eventually, the sisters found themselves faced with a wide river, one they were not certain they could cross. Whether this was an act of Jåat of the River’s trickery or simply misfortune, who can say, but the gods did nothing to help them as the Men of the Wolves closed in.
Seeing no other option, the two sisters jumped into the waters together but, try as they might, the current was too strong and they were swept faster than they could hope to swim into a lake. The lake was deep and dark and had many strange creatures dwelling in its depths. But the sisters did not know this and tried to swim across. They knew the Men of the Wolves were closing in and did not want to risk being caught, even if it meant their lives.
Two-thirds of the way across the lake, Eir’s ankle was snagged by a water creature and she was dragged under. As much as she tried to struggle, she could not break free. But wherever Eir was, Liv was nearby, and so the older sister took the creature’s life and lost her own in return.
When Eir surfaced she was devastated to find her sister no longer by her side. Quickly swimming to the shore, she threw herself into the mud and wailed so loudly that every bird in the Wilds went quiet and listened. She screamed her anger and frustration, crying out her loss, until her tears had formed a lake of their own.
And in her anger, she called on every god she could name to help her. Only one did. Lumi of the Snows heard her cry and felt the desolation of her separation from her sister. So the god offered Eir the chance to be reunited with her sister; they could be together for all eternity, but they would never breathe again. Eir knew each breath, each beat of her heart was pointless without her sister, so she readily agreed.
Lomy of the Snows acted fast, and soon the two sisters were frozen in the centre of their lakes. Liv in the larger, Eir in the smaller, held together by The Bond that could never be broken.
Background
The myth of the two sisters is popular throughout The Wilds with Nomads, and is the sort of story many learned at the knee of their parents or Around the Campfire. A person may comment "You are being like Eir," or "You're being a Liv," and any other Nomad would understand them.
It is not known whether Liv and Eir were real people, but as there is not a clear moral to this story it is very possible they were real. However, there was certainly a group of men who called themselves the Men of Wolves who were said to steal people from their beds and had a bad reputation.
It is also reported that the child of one of the Men of Wolves was none other than Harald of The Protectors whose religious movement went on to cause the separation between Nomads and Townsfolk.
The Lakes of the Thawing Sisters are named after the sisters in this story. It is possible that the names came first, the story second, but again this is unlikely as most other areas in the region aren't named after people.
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