Aegishjalmur Page 4

  His Desire itself, the hunger in the Dragon's heart, is really the very steed that he rides. But he knows to value the relationships and partnerships he forms along the Path. He draws strength from the Other, who reflects and strengthens him, providing a conduit for those qualities he may personally lack. This is the Mystery of Exchange.

  Mannaz

  This rune may be viewed as two uruz runes facing each other and overlapping. This creates a central gebo rune in an elevated position. The interpretation of this is a definition of Man as a creature in whom the Gift of consciousness has assumed dominance over the bestial nature.

  This illuminated, Self-aware Man is the one who is fit to command the Beast, to tame / slay / steer the Dragon. This Man is a hero of Sigurd proportions, properly fitted to face and overthrow Fafnir, assuming the Dragon's powers and riches.

  As illustrated in the shape of the rune, this Man is the strength and vitality of a Beast merged with the consciousness and Will of a God.

  Laguz

  This rune signifies a lake. It is a reminder of the source of life and the weight of evolution and ancestral development. It is the forces which shape life itself and the processes which shape and define the course of life, the rites of passage we undergo.

  The rune's other meaning, as laukaz, is a leek. Such a plant grows in an environment which encompasses water, earth and sky. In just such a way, our lives grow in an environment shaped by both natural instinct and biological imperatives and the wider plains of the imagination and the realisation of consciousness itself. We are impelled by the patterns that have been established in our past, but are also guided by our visions of the potential of the future.

  We possess the divine spark of consciousness, but we are not Gods. We are meant to exist in this world, in Midgard, first and foremost. The wise Initiate does not fight against the environment in which he finds himself. Instead, he learns its ways and adapts himself to best possible use of it in order to achieve his goals.

  The proper harnessing of the forces in the laguz rune depends upon a proper Understanding of the nature of Man, as shown in the preceding mannaz rune.

  Ingwaz

  This is the rune of gestation, of introspection and incubation. Initiation is a cyclical process. Each initiatory cycle will include a phase where the Initiate seems to run into a brick wall and can progress no further. Life reaches a standstill and it takes much effort to simply tread water. Magical Work yields unsatisfactory, muted results. There seems nowhere further to go.

  In such a situation, to simply continue on as one always has done is to achieve a state of stagnation at best, regression at worst. Instead, it is necessary to withdraw and to turn inward, seeking the walls that you have built inside yourself. This is a process of analysing your reasons and motivations for the Work, assessing which of your practices are helpful and which are merely habit. It is time for a Nietzschean “revaluation of all values”. Only by such an active reassessment and repointing can we identify our self-created blockages and demolish them, emerging into a far bigger world of magic and potential than we previously inhabited. Until the cycle turns again, of course, and we have expanded to fill our new space also.

  Every time we achieve such a breakthrough after a time of incubation and reflection, every time we win our new Vision and create our new Destiny, we can only see so far ahead. We unconsciously create new barriers for ourselves at the limits of our Vision, and it is these that we inevitably bump against as we continue to grow and to fulfil our potential and promise.

  Such blockages, which seem frustrating and disheartening at the time, are thus positive indicators. They mean that we have reached the limits of what we previously understood and that it is time to seek a new illumination. In Draconian terms, the whole process of ingwaz may be likened to the serpent shedding its skin when it has outgrown it, emerging as a new being: the same, yet greater.

  Dagaz

  The rune expresses the zigzagging cyclical course of the Draconian Initiate as he / she passes through a central still point – the point of focus of Self, where all perceptions are ultimately evaluated – and rides the course through all extremes and polarities of experience: symbolised in the rune by night and day, light and dark, known and unknown.

  It is the duty of the Initiate – as superbly recounted in Colin Wilson's book The Outsider – to ever seek the extremes, but to always remain apart from extremism, soaking in the knowledge and insight to be gained at the edges of experience without identifying with them. The serpent's course always zigzags back again to the centre, then on in a new direction.

  Othila

  The rune row begins with the spendable wealth of fehu, wealth which we are urged to keep in circulation rather than hoarding. The final rune represents another kind of wealth entirely, the wealth of the homestead and assets of a more permanent variety. These we are expected to hold onto and to treasure, for ourselves and for our posterity.

  The traditional interpretation of the rune's shape is of the fenced enclosure which surrounds and protects the homestead. In Draconian symbolism, it may equally be the sleeping dragon in its lair, enfolding its treasures, claws crossed before it.

  Fixed wealth refers to more than just the stability and security of the home, however. It signifies all of those treasures that we have gathered to ourselves because they tell part of our story, because we have chosen them to mirror and represent some fact of our Selves. These may be things of little actual financial value, but which provide a link to our past. My grandfather's binoculars are one such treasure that I own. Others are things which express our values and sense of beauty. The range of statuettes that stand on the shelving behind me as I type this are bold and idiosyncratic statements of my sense of aesthetics. We all have such treasures, which when viewed with the initiatory eye are far more sacred and transformative objects than any occult trinket.

  Galdor and Seith

  As mentioned briefly in the previous chapter, there were two distinct types of magic used by the folk of Northern Europe. These were called galdor and seith and owed their origins and inspiration to Odin and Freyja respectively (though each was capable of using the magical techniques of the other).

  Galdor was a form of magic which primarily used the runes – chanted or written / carved – and was very much directed by the conscious mind. The runer selects runes whose meanings resonate with his purpose and then focuses his Will upon those runes, awakening them within his own being and sending the stream of rune-shaped Will out into the world to effect his desired change.

  Seith is the magic of the seeress, who seeks to still her conscious thought and allow images, visions or voices to arise from the depths of her subconscious or from the worlds beyond Midgard. This form of magic was most often employed by women and was considered shameful by most men of the period. This did not prevent Odin from seeking tuition from Freyja in order to learn its secrets, however. The seeker after magical power cares nothing for the sneers or values of the ignorant and if it's good enough for Odin, it's certainly good enough for us.

  Most of the Work of the early chapters (equating to the first three heads in the Apophis curriculum) will focus upon the techniques of galdor. Throughout, we will be trying to build bridges between the conscious and subconscious aspects of the mind, but the latter can only be effectively Worked with when it has established a rapport with the former and a good two-way communication is manifest.

  Despite this, the first Working of Ægishjálmur is more akin to seith, since it is a visionary meditation intended to link the new Initiate with the Northern Draconian current. This first Working, which should be carried out prior to starting the Work of the next chapter, will awaken the Essence of Fafnir – the first of our three dragons – in the Initiate's consciousness.

  Fafnir's Hoard – A Working

  This Working is intended to be carried out over a few successive nights, each one adding to what has been achieved before. Its symbolism will be investigated in the chapters which
follow, but it is important that this symbolism should be made 'live' within the psyche now, preparing the Initiate for the particularly Draconian aspects of the Work that lies ahead.

  The Working is a visual meditation. At this stage, the Initiate should not worry about the peripheral details. Yes, assuming a formal posture can enhance such Workings. Yes, establishing a proper rhythm of breathing can deepen the richness of visionary Work as the blood is better oxygenated. Yes, prior experience with the vision-making powers of the imagination can render such a Working more stable and less likely to lose concentration and cohesion. But every single person capable of sitting down and reading this book possesses sufficient power and skill to carry out this simple Working in a way that will be effective and which will prepare them for the curriculum that lies ahead.

  You only need three things in order to be able to carry out this Working effectively:

  You need to be able to go to a quiet place where you can be alone and where you will not be disturbed for the duration of each day's Working. This may be a comfortable armchair in a quiet room. At a push, it might even be lying in bed when you retire for the night (so long as you remain awake to do the Work).

  You need to be able to relax and get yourself comfortable. You may choose to sit down in an armchair, you may prefer to sit in a stable, straight-backed pose in an upright chair, or you may even lie down on your bed. At this stage it doesn't matter, so long as you are able to relax and turn your mind to things other than your body.

  You need to have a good imagination. A lot of people will protest that they don't have a good imagination, but we can soon give the lie to this. Imagine your favourite celebrity lust object lying naked on a bed, luring you over with an enticing smile and all the promise of the lifestyle of wealth and luxury that an affair with them would bring. You didn't find that piece of imagining too difficult, did you? I bet it leapt fully formed into your mind without you even having to think about it. If in doubt, go and read a novel that appeals to you for practice, you'll find that you're perfectly capable of exercising your visual imagination when you allow yourself to do so.

  The basic procedure is a visualisation, a re-enactment in personalised form of certain aspects of Sigurd's encounter with Fafnir. The Working is intended to progress over nine nights, with each night's phase adding to what has gone before. Its purpose is to awaken the Draconian current of the North within you and prepare you for the curriculum of Work in this book.

  The First Night

  Begin by relaxing in your chosen place, free from interruptions or distractions. Phones should be unplugged, mobile phones switched off. Take as much time as you need to completely relax and settle, stilling your mind and preparing to give your full concentration and attention to the Working.

  Then allow your mind's eye to build up a landscape in your imagination. It is a grey, barren mountainside, with only a few gnarled and stunted trees, all leafless. The wind blows strongly, grey clouds scudding overhead, threatening rain or even snow; it's certainly cold enough. The ground is uneven, with many dried up streams and ravines breaking its parched surface. Imagine strongly that you are standing in this unwelcoming environment. Look around you and fill in its details. Take a few steps in it, but don't wander far from your starting position at this time. In the near distance, you can see a deep hollow, a cave entrance yawning in its depths. Do not approach it. Just use all of your Will and your power of imagination to render this inner environment real and tangible to you. When you have established and stabilised it as best you can, slowly withdraw from it, breathe deeply and open your eyes, returning to full physical awareness.

  The Second Night

  Return to the forsaken mountainside and take a few minutes to let the landscape stabilise around you. Turn around slowly, viewing all about you. Now you can see that behind you the land falls away suddenly into a deep ravine. You can hear water rushing far below, at the bottom of the cliff walls.

  You turn your attention to the hollow that you saw yesterday and you carefully edge closer to it, looking down upon the cave entrance. A foul stench issues from it and a vapour seeps out, clinging and poisonous. It is this venomous miasma that has rendered the mountainside barren and waste.

  You back away from the course of the poisonous vapour and allow yourself to return to ordinary, everyday awareness.

  The Third Night

  You return to the withered mountainside and spend a few minutes building and stabilising the landscape within your imagination.

  This done, you make your way to a tangle of brittle, dead trees that stand like twisted skeletons in the wasteland. You climb up into these and find a knot of creaking branches in which to conceal yourself. For long moments, there is no noise nor motion save the sighing of the cold wind and you find that as you sit motionless, you can become almost invisible in the grey pallor of this world.

  You sit totally still and observe in silence as an enormous serpent slithers out of the cave in the hollow, a long and sinuous neck holds a fanged and crested head. The eyes are deadly, the beast's glance radiating a sense of terror and maddening horror, bewitching and beguiling all that it gazes upon. You shrink back, but it does not see you in your hiding place.

  The dragon crawls further out of its hole, a poisonous fume surrounding it. It propels itself forward on powerful legs, scaled and clawed, until it reaches the edge of the cliff. Then it lowers its long neck and forebody over the edge, clinging on with its rear claws. It drinks greedily from the rushing waters below and a venomous mist sprays up.

  The dragon then pulls itself back up from the ravine and crawls back into its cave.

  You climb down from your hiding place and allow your eyes to open, relocating your consciousness in your physical body, thinking about what you have witnessed.

  The Fourth Night

  You return to the mountainside, but this time there is a weight in your hand. As the familiar landscape shapes around you, you realise that you are carrying a heavy sword, perfectly balanced and razor sharp. A feeling of trepidation sweeps over you. Tonight you are going to face the Beast. Kneel and consider the implications of this. Consider what the Beast means to you. What is embodied in the primal instincts and ferocity of the Dragon? Spend as long as you need in meditation on these matters, preparing yourself for what you must do.

  When the time feels right – and it will come upon you as a deep foreboding, compelling you to follow the mythic pattern laid out for your feet – rise up and walk to the cliff edge.

  Look down and see the dizzying drop beneath your feet, the river raging and coiling below, like a serpent in its own right. Carefully lower yourself over the edge, finding your feet on a ledge just beneath the lip. Clasp the sword firmly in both hands, point uppermost, and wait.

  Soon you feel the earth shaking as the body of the Dragon coils across it, clawed feet propelling it along. Terror almost chokes you as the light is blocked out by the great head as it reaches over the cliff and curves down before you, mere inches from you.

  You watch the underside of the long neck passing by until the upper body appears over the cliff edge. Without hesitation, you allow instinct to guide your hands and strike upwards hard and deep into the soft underbelly, cutting deep into the Beast, burying the sword to its hilt.

  A great tumult breaks out, the Dragon shrieking and hissing, spraying a poisonous spume in its agony. It recoils back over the top of the cliff and throws itself to the ground, thrashing and coiling. You cling desperately to the ledge as the earth bucks and shakes beneath its death throes.

  Finally all is still and the hoarse, venomous breaths have silenced. You climb slowly back onto the upper ground and survey the huge, still body of the Dragon in its ruin. Overcome with the adrenaline and emotion of this experience, return to your physical environment and think over what has transpired.

  The Fifth Night

  You return again to the withered waste and slowly approach the still body of the slain Dragon. You marvel at its huge siz
e and crushing strength and walk around it.

  As you pass by the head, you are startled by a greenish glint between the eyelids. One of the eyes suddenly opens wide, transfixing you with a paralysing glance. You stand helplessly rooted to the spot as the Dragon speaks.

  “I am Fafnir,” it hisses. “I am the Dragon that lurks in the deep hollows in the dark places of the mind. You have looked deep within and found me looking back at you, my power persisting even after death. Ponder that well. What will become of my power now? Dare you taste the very heart's blood of me?”

  Fafnir will now give you a message that is meant for you and you alone. It may be a word, a phrase, an image, or a feeling. Remain staring into the Dragon's eye until you are certain that you have 'got it'. The eye will then close, releasing you from its spell.

  Let your consciousness return and be grounded in your body, then record the Dragon's message and consider what it may mean.

  The Sixth Night

  You return to the dreary mountainside and the remains of Fafnir. The Dragon's body is still hot to the touch, its internal fire not yet faded.

  You take your sword and cut deeply into the chest cavity, removing the enormous heart.

  You then gather wood from the dead trees and build a fire. Squatting beside it, you skewer the heart and begin roasting it. As the mighty organ cooks, you reflect that this is that which pumped life and power through the Dragon's being.

  You reach out to see if the heart is cooked yet, but burn your thumb upon it. You snatch your hand back and suck your thumb to soothe the pain of the burn. But it spreads, searing your body and your mind in waves of blistering heat, the venomous blood of the Serpent, energised by the fire, coursing now through your own veins, transforming every cell in your body, every thought in your mind.