Nightly, Fuensanta lights a candle on Her altar and consciously mourns for Sigyn’s children. She does this at Sigyn’s request that Her children might be properly remembered. –GK

I never notice Narvi’s arrival, when I grieve for Him. There is simply the realization of gentleness filling the room, of a somewhat wistful presence. Narvi has inherited from His Mother the invincible strength of the heart. This dead God Who once asked a shaman whether someone could bring one of Idunna’s apples to Sigyn, tells me again and again: “Mourn for My Brother.” Vali’s anguish hurts Narvi much more than His own death, yet the one thing Vali cannot do for His Brother is to stop grieving. He rejects all attempts to anneal His pain and so, in a way, Vali involuntarily wounds Narvi again and again by this fierce torment for Narvi’s death, a torment that has burned for centuries and will burn until the end of time. Narvi would, if asked, gently deny this causes Him pain, for fear of hurting Vali. In life, the Brothers were bound by Their love of Each Other, and now that love has turned to agony, that is Their bond.

To touch that grief means to be tossed from one pain to another, from one Deity to another. When Sigyn says, “Mourn My children,” She does not mean us to think of Her grief. She is sending us away, to think of Narvi and Vali until one is overcome by grief for Them. So Sigyn sends you away, and you reach out for Narvi, and He tells you to mourn for Vali, Who in turn says you should do whatever Narvi wants but He, Vali, really wants to be left alone. Back to Narvi you go, Who grieves for His Mother, Who sends you back to Her children … to touch that grief is to descend willingly into a spiral of anguish, a whirlpool of pain and grief that has no end and no resting point.

Loki and Sigyn do not mourn together for Their children. Loki asks some of His followers to grieve for Narvi and Vali with Him, and Sigyn asks some of Her followers to grieve with Her. Whilst this happens for reasons that are personal to Them, it may also be that a human being could not bear the weight of that combined sorrow.

As I never notice Narvi’s arrival, so I never notice His departure. Mid-sentence, I realize the room is empty but for me. And because I do not know how else to serve Them, I follow the spiral again.

I grieve for Sigyn, Who mourns Her children.

I grieve for Narvi, Who grieves for Vali.

I grieve for Vali, Who is in torment for Narvi.

I grieve for Narvi, Who loves His Mother.

For Sigyn,

For Narvi,

For Vali,

For Them all...