Tellers Tidbits

06/10/2026

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06/08/2026

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Nephthys is one of the most overlooked goddesses in Egyptian mythology, despite appearing at some of its most important moments. While Isis became associated with queenship, magic, and restoration, Nephthys ruled the spaces people feared to enter. Twilight. Mourning. endings. Thresholds. The unseen work of grief.

Her name is often translated as “Lady of the House,” though she rarely appears as a domestic figure. Instead, Nephthys becomes guardian of the dead, protector of mourners, companion of the grieving, and a goddess standing at the edge between life and what comes after.

Her most famous myth unfolds after the murder of Osiris.

When Osiris is betrayed and dismembered by Set, it is Nephthys who helps Isis search for the scattered pieces of his body. Together they gather him, mourn him, protect him, and perform the rites that allow his restoration. Ancient Egyptian funerary traditions remembered this act deeply. Isis gave hope of return. Nephthys stood witness to loss itself.

Some traditions describe Nephthys as married to Set, making her role even more complex. She becomes the sister of the victim and wife of the betrayer, yet chooses compassion over loyalty to destruction.

She also appears in myths surrounding the birth of Anubis, where later traditions sometimes describe her seeking connection outside her marriage and becoming mother to the god who would guide souls through death.

Unlike dramatic gods of war or creation, Nephthys rules quieter things.

The moment after tragedy.

The person who stays.

The hand that helps gather what was broken.

In modern spiritual practice and mythology discussions, Nephthys is often associated with protection, grief work, shadow work, spirit guidance, mourning rituals, and sacred transition.

She is not the goddess who saves people from darkness.

She is the goddess who enters it with them.

05/19/2026

Hex and Shadow Chronicles
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The Forest Knows · Myrkrheimr
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Cernunnos stands among the oldest and most mysterious figures in Celtic mythology, associated with wilderness, fertility, animals, wealth, and the living pulse moving through the natural world. His image appears most famously on the Gundestrup Cauldron, seated cross-legged between beasts, holding a torc in one hand and a serpent in the other. Every symbol surrounding him reflects coexistence rather than conquest.
Antlers define his form for a reason. Deer shed and regrow them through seasonal cycles, turning the stag into a living emblem of death, renewal, endurance, and return. Cernunnos carries this same rhythm. He governs forests, prey, predators, rivers, and movement between life and decay. Nothing within his domain exists separate from consequence. Roman writers often struggled to classify horned deities, later interpretations distorting figures like Cernunnos through fear attached to wilderness and paganism. Yet original Celtic symbolism places him closer to guardianship than malice. He appears beside animals peacefully, seated in stillness rather than aggression. Power radiates through presence, control through harmony with forces already existing.
Serpents linked to him carry meanings tied to transformation, earth currents, hidden wisdom, and cyclical rebirth. The torc represents status, sovereignty, and sacred authority. Together they form an image of balanced force: instinct guided through awareness.
Cernunnos reflects a worldview where humanity remains part of nature rather than master above it. Forests hold intelligence. Rivers carry spirit. Survival depends upon relationship with the land rather than domination over it.
He does not separate life from death, growth from decay, predator from prey. Every cycle continues through exchange.
Cernunnos does not command the wild through fear. He moves as part of it. See less

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Cernunnos Powerful Celtic God

05/19/2026

03/30/2026

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Lilith does not rise with the full moon, glowing and adored, she lives in the Black Moon, the hidden phase, the unseen void where light cannot soften what is real. This is her domain. The place most avoid. The place where illusion dies.

The Black Moon is not about manifestation or gentle intention. It is the absence of light, the space between endings and beginnings, where nothing can be hidden behind beauty or distraction. It is here that Lilith’s energy is felt most intensely not as comfort, but as confrontation.

She is not the goddess of becoming palatable. She is the force that strips away everything false. The masks. The compliance. The parts of you shaped to be accepted rather than to be true.

In ancient whispers, she was cast out for refusing to submit, for choosing exile over obedience. But exile became power. Isolation became sovereignty. And the darkness she was pushed into became a throne.

The Black Moon carries that same current. It asks what you have buried to survive. What you have silenced to be loved. What parts of you were labeled “too much” and locked away.

Lilith does not gently guide you back to them, she demands you face them.

This is shadow work at its deepest level. Not healing that looks pretty, but truth that feels uncomfortable. Not light that reassures, but darkness that reveals.

Because in the absence of light, there is no performance. No illusion. Only what is.

The Black Moon is not empty.
It is full of everything you were taught to suppress.

And Lilith is still there waiting, not to save you, but to remind you that you were never meant to be controlled in the first place.

03/30/2026

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Across history, countless gods have been lost to time.

Once worshipped in temples, honored in rituals, and spoken of in daily life now reduced to fragments in old texts, broken statues, or names few recognize.

These are the forgotten gods.

Deities of rivers that changed course.
Spirits of forests that were cut down.
Guardians of cities that no longer exist.

As cultures shifted, beliefs evolved, and new religions emerged, many of these gods slowly disappeared from collective memory.

But in ancient traditions, forgetting a god did not mean they ceased to exist.

It meant their presence became quiet.

Less called upon.
Less understood.
Less named.

In places where temples once stood, nature often returns.

Stone erodes.
Names fade.
Stories are lost.

Yet something lingers.

Because forgotten gods represent more than lost religion.

They represent the parts of human history, identity, and connection to the world that have been left behind.

In some spiritual paths, there is a belief that these old deities still exist in subtle ways in landscapes, in symbols, in the echoes of old myths that resurface without explanation.

Not demanding worship.

Not seeking recognition.

Simply existing in the background of the world they once shaped.

The idea of forgotten gods carries a quiet question:

What happens to power when it is no longer acknowledged?

Does it disappear or does it wait, hidden beneath time, until someone remembers?

Because sometimes what is forgotten is not gone.

It is simply no longer being looked for.