Brasilic Folklore And Mythology - SCP Foundation

Foreword: Due to the island's near-total isolation for over nine hundred years, the mythological tradition of Hy-Brasil appears both alien and familiar to outside observers. Foundation mythologists have noted numerous similarities between Brasilic folklore and the wider Celtic canon, with such recurring themes as love, death, vengeance and betrayal. The following is a brief compilation of early Brasilic legends, many of which are known or believed to predate the more established Dyrmudic Cycle1.

While literature from this era remains scarce, many of these tales have survived due to the island's rich tradition of oral storytelling, and have been translated and summarized by the Foundation Department of Mythology and Folkloristics.

- Dr. Lemuel M. Plunkett

The Laughing Stone

The Laughing Stone

The Laughing Stone, which sits atop the hill of Sliobmoir and overlooks the river Deoira, has been integral to Brasilic coronation rituals for centuries prior to the Day of the Ravens2. In antiquity, it is recounted that the revered menhir would erupt with joyous laughter once the island's true king set his foot upon it, while remaining silent in the presence of all pretenders. The Laughing Stone is believed to have originated as a gift from the gods during a tumultuous period in Brasil's early history where the island had no clear ruler, and was presented in the hopes of ushering a new era of peace and unity.

The most widely known story concerning the Laughing Stone is thought to date back to the late sixth century, and offers an explanation as to why the once-mirthful stone is now permanently silent. During this era, Brasil was ruled by the high king Fionbir the Grizzled, whose only son, Cormaic (also known by the epithet of Feasógtin3) was slain in battle, with his remains never recovered. In honour of his hirsute heir, Fionbir vowed that he would never shave his face again, and some fourteen years later, he himself was dead after tripping over his own long silver beard. The Grizzled King's expected successor was his nephew Ronain, although before the coronation could take place, matters were complicated by the arrival of Nyall and Eimen, two brothers who had ventured on horseback from the island's northern reaches.

Nyall, the older of the two brothers, was a man of fierce cunning who had long dreamt of being king. After catching word of Fionbir's demise whispered among the reeds, Nyall seized his opportunity and disguised himself as the late prince Cormaic. So determined was he to steal the throne that Nyall cut off one hand and plucked out one eye, creating the illusion that he had been wounded in combat. Finally, with his own spilled blood, Nyall dyed his full beard a bright red, completing the disguise. The False Cormaic claimed to have fallen and hit his head during battle, causing him to lose all recollection of his previous life. He was then taken in by a kindly farmer (in actuality, Nyall's brother Eimen), who had shown him great hospitality over the ensuing years. Nyall claimed to have regained his memories only recently, following a dream in which he was visited by the goddess Ecna4, who informed him of his father's passing and reminded him of his royal duties.

Despite some skepticism from Ronain and the island's nobles, many believed Nyall's account to be true, and accepted his claim to the throne as genuine. Any lingering doubts were extinguished on the day of the coronation, for once the imposter laid foot upon the sacred stone's surface, the sound of uproarious laughter was heard bellowing across the hilltops. Unbeknownst to the islanders however, this was merely the final stage of Nyall's ploy: the stone had in fact remained silent throughout the ceremony, as it always did when confronted with charlatans. The laughter that was heard had instead been produced by Nyall's brother and accomplice Eimen, who had positioned himself behind a nearby tree.

The only one to witness this deception was Urla, the daughter of a palace cook. The wily young maiden had grown enamored with the fabled stone, and longed to hear its magical laugh for herself, although knew that only men of noble birth were permitted in its presence. As such, Urla had journeyed to the hallowed hilltop alone in the early hours of the morning, and was hidden from behind a boulder when she witnessed the two men's treachery. After returning to the palace, Urla was initially too afraid to tell anyone of what she had seen. She would eventually confide in her mother Maed, who calmed the girl's nerves and assured her that she knew exactly what to do.

That evening, the men sat down to drink and feast in honour of their new king. At the end of their meal, Maed crept behind the drunken Eimen, who had been rewarded with a knighthood for his supposed hospitality towards the long-lost king. Using a feather plucked from that evening's goose, Maed tickled Eimen on the back of the neck, causing him to laugh loudly and heartily. Recognizing his laughter as identical to that supposedly produced by the stone, the noblemen knew that they had been played for fools. Prince Ronain was coronated, and in recognition of her service, Urla was invited to attend the ceremony atop Sliobmoir. Here, she heard the stone's true laugh, which proved to be just as enchanting as in the stories she was told as a youth. It was here that the grateful Ronain proposed to her, with Urla becoming the island's next queen.

The rightful king showed no mercy towards Nyall and his brother. As punishment, Ronain decreed that both men should be crushed to death by the same stone whose name they had sullied, and it was done. While the islanders celebrated, the Laughing Stone was displeased - for it had been offered in the name of peace, and was not intended for such barbaric use. For three days and three nights, the rock wept and wailed ceaselessly. On each day, King Ronain sent one of the island's finest merrymakers atop Sliobmoir in an attempt to raise its sunken spirits (the poet, the fiddler and the jester, respectively), although their efforts proved fruitless. The mournful stone continued to sob inconsolably until every last drop of blood had been cleansed from its surface, its tears forming the river Deoira in the process. While the Laughing Stone remains an essential part of modern coronations, it has not been heard to laugh since.

The Seal Folk

Brasilic loch

The Selkies or Seal Folk are a mystical race of aquatic shapeshifters who feature prominently in a number of Brasilic fables and folktales. As in similar cultures5, these creatures are imagined as being capable of changing between seal and human form (usually that of an attractive young woman) by removing their leathery skins. The most common motif of such stories involves mortal men who seek to marry a selkie, often by stealing their sealskin6, thereby trapping them in their human form.

One such story tells of an earnest and hard-working young farmer named Domnal. One spring morning, Domnal sighted one of the spellbinding seal-maidens washing her long, flowing locks in the waters of a nearby river. Charmed by the young man's presence, the selkie beckoned him closer, although the love-struck Domnal initially found himself too shy to approach her. The farmer instead returned home, where he told his brother, the boorish and slovenly Bryndub, of the marvellous encounter. While skeptical, Bryndub decided to humor his younger brother, and insisted that Domnal accompany him back to the river so that he could see this supposed enchantress for himself. After laying eyes on the captivating creature sat before him, Bryndub was instantly smitten, his brother's words having failed to capture the full extent of her magnificent beauty.

Thinking fast, Bryndub seized the selkie's skin from the rock where it lay, and demanded that she become his wife. Much to Domnal's disappointment, the seal-maiden at first appeared to accept his brother's brash proposal. However, the selkie noted that the air had grown colder, and reasoned that she could not possibly marry Bryndub if he were to fall sick before their wedding day. She beguilingly suggested that her husband-to-be wear her magical sealskin to keep himself warm, to which he thoughtlessly agreed. Once Bryndub donned the leathery coat it began to expand, enveloping his entire body and changing him into a seal. No longer interested in his selkie bride, the newly-transformed Bryndub instead succumbed to his lust for the sea, and swam out to the ocean, never to be seen again. The selkie instead went on to marry Domnal, and the two lived happily ever after.

Another tale is that of the fisherman Eochu, who was deserted by his wife Griana after she fell for a travelling merchant, leaving him sole provider for their three young daughters. One day, whilst fishing for salmon, Eochu began to weep from his loneliness, and his tears caught the attention of a curious selkie. Like Eochu, she too was alone, having lost both spouse and spawn to the cold chitin claws of a ravenous sea monster. Bonding over their shared heartbreak, the pair were swiftly married, with the seal-maiden proving herself a devoted stepmother to Eochu's daughters, regularly entertaining them with songs and stories of the sea. Although the two were very much in love, Eochu grew increasingly paranoid that his bride of the brine might one day depart like Griana before her, and return to a life below the waves.

Desperate to prevent his fears from being realised, Eochu first wrapped his wife's sealskin in cloth, and placed it inside a locked chest beneath their bed. Still unsatisfied, he next hid the chest deep within a nearby cave, although this too failed to ease his concerns. One night, Eochu awoke from uneasy sleep, and decided that the only way of ensuring his wife never set fin in water again was to destroy her magical skin once and for all. As his family slept, Eochu headed back for the cave, where he set chest, cloth and skin alight. His mind finally at peace, Eochu headed home, where he was greeted by his wailing daughters, who had woken to the agonised cries of their seaborne stepmother, now reduced to naught but ash and bone. The devastated Eochu collected his wife's still-warm remains, which he scattered over the waves of the loch where they found each other, and did not marry again7.

Doubtlessly, the most infamous of Brasil's selkie tales is that of the hard-hearted hunter named Duchad. Longing for nothing more than a son to call his own, Duchad found no partner among his own people due to his drunkenness and violent temper. Recalling the earlier legends of Domnal and Eochu, the hunter concluded that if he could find no earthborn spouse, one spawned of the gentle sea current would do just as well. Duchad set off for the island's northern shore, where it was said that during low tide the Seal Folk could be seen in their human forms, dancing impossibly to the rhythm of the waves upon the ocean's shimmering surface. Over the next year Duchad spent an hour each day waiting patiently by the seafront, before finally spotting one of the majestic maidens sleeping peacefully atop a bed of seaweed, with her coat lying unattended.

After stealing her precious pelt, Duchad forced the young selkie into marriage, despite her desperate pleas that she already had a lover among her own kind waiting for her beneath the waves. Some months later, the stranded selkie had become pregnant with the hunter's child, though once his long-awaited son arrived, she refused to allow Duchad to set eyes on him. Pushing his wife aside, Duchad was horrified to discover that his son was neither fully boy nor beast, but a hybrid with the fin and flippers of a seal, and the face of a human infant. So repulsed was Duchad by the child's appearance that despite his wife's howls and pleas, he seized the boy in a fit of rage and carried him to nearby Loch Domhain, where he drowned him in its murky waters.

Realizing now that a seaborne spouse could bear him no human offspring, Duchad returned his wife's magical coat, demanding that she retreat to the ocean, and never again set foot on dry land. However, the distraught selkie no longer held any desire to return to the sea, and instead wandered deep into the woods. In her sorrow she fashioned her own sealskin into a rope, and hanged herself from the tallest tree she should find. Three nights later, Duchad was startled from his slumber by a shrill cry, not unlike that of a wailing infant, coming from Loch Domhain. After inspecting the source of the screams and finding only pebbles and pond scum, the hunter turned for home, before feeling the cold, wet grip of a single webbed hand around his ankle. The hunter was dragged helplessly to the briny depths, with the last sight he saw being the vengeful gaze of the son he had slain.

To this day, the area surrounding Loch Domhain remains avoided for fear of rousing the phocine phantom that dwells within its accursed waters. One subsequent account tells of a foolish boy who strayed too close to the wailing loch, and was similarly drawn to a watery grave. At his family's request, the future queen Arienn8 boldly sang for the wrathful wraith, temporarily charming it so that the boy's body could be retrieved for a proper burial. As a show of gratitude the boy's mother, a talented seamstress, presented Arienn with an enchanted white gown that would never tear or stain. This exceptional garment would ultimately play a role in Arienn's demise, whereby a hungry fox, having heard her heavenly song and seen the flutter of her fine white robes, mistook her for a swan.

Footnotes

1. Term applied to the body of legends documenting the life and death of the semimythical figure Dyrmud the Ageless, who is supposedly responsible for the island's dimensionally transcendental status.

2. Refers to the cataclysmic sequence of events that resulted in Brasil being sealed off from the wider world, thought to have taken place between the ninth and tenth centuries CE.

3. 'Fire-beard', a name derived from Cormaic's thick, ginger facial hair.

4. Brasilic deity associated with the concept of knowledge, memories, and poetic inspiration.

5. Most notably, that of north Scotland and the Outer Hebrides.

6. Categorized by the Aarne–Thompson–Uther Index as ATU 402 ("The Animal Bride").

7. This story is known to be the source of the Brasilic saying, never burn a selkie's skin, a rough English equivilent being: never look a gift horse in the mouth.

8. Fourth of the seven ill-fated wives of King Dyrmud the Ageless, who is recounted as possessing the sweetest voice in Hy-Brasil.

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