Titles of Mystical Import

Look at your hands.

I have my mother’s hands. Same fingers. Same nails. Same habit of rubbing pointer across thumb.

Mother is a sacred name. Someday I hope it’s one of mine. Right now, though, I’m just starting to figure out what love is.

(Lover is another----Mother Lover Significant Other)

Three times nine girls, but one girl rides ahead. I am Svava turned Sigrun turned Kara. A reincarnated Valkyrie. A chooser of the slain. But I choose love over death. But Sparrow said that they’re the same.

Maybe choosing love means that I can choose the one it slays.

Svava chose love too. And named him to boot, because his parents couldn’t think of the right one. Helgi, she called him. And through all of their reincarnations together he got to keep the name. (Even though hers changed every time.) I like to think it’s because she gave it to him. A gift that cannot be returned.

I am Nordic through my mother’s side. Danish to be precise. Lineage is an interesting thing. An ancient naming that we are simply born into.

I have my mother’s hands.

Whose hands do you have?