Happy Alfablot!

“A hill there is,” answered she, “not far away from here, where elves have their haunt. Now get you the bull that Cormac killed, and redden the outer side of the hill with its blood, and make a feast for the elves with its flesh. Then thou wilt be healed.”

—Cormac’s Saga

The crops have been harvested, the animals are well fed and plump. The leaves have fallen from the trees. The air is crisp and chill. Winter approaches. It is the time of the alfablot, or sacrifice to the elves. The elves, who dwell in mounds beneath the earth, bear the memory of our ancestors. In honoring the elves, we honor those who have come before us. On the night of this sacrifice the doors are barred to all Christians. On the night of alfablot, the Beer-Men preside. Gifts of beer and meat are offered to the elves, for their continued protection and favor. On this night families keep to their homes, bank the fire on the hearth, and speak secret words.

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