In the misty days, when men and gods walked side-by-side over the bones of the Jutun Empire there was a woman like no other. She was Aratha, daughter of Tarath, cupbearer of Vojin and her beauty was only outstripped by her cleverness and ferocity in battle. It came to pass that she caught the lustful eye of the great god, from whom all of our bounty and woe flow.
By his mere desire of her, all other suitors found their interest in her wane and their desire to die in battle wax. He bent all of his godly might towards making her his bride. Yet she would not put off her own desire to carve her name into the annals of our people for the love of a god.
In the spring Vojin brought her the most perfect flower Astrild ever let bloom in our flawed world. The sight of it filled her with joy and it’s smell flamed her passions, but not in the way he intended. Rather than submit she plucked it’s petals and cast them in the spring winds. Where they landed, the ground grew fertile and wild.
In the summer Vojin brought her an untamed white stallion with six legs. She took the gift with grace and rode off to the east at speeds unknown, where she met the Queen Nethset, whom she raced for the fabled emerald throne. Upon her return, she set the spoils of her great victory in her hall, from which she commanded her people.
In the fall Vojin forged a great spearhead in the heart of the sun and presented it to her. Again she took his gift with grace and again denied him her heart. She took sail to the frozen north where she met and slew the great Jutun Fryminkrak, from whose bones her sister’s Isol, Nava, Oma, and Eska made their homes.
In the winter Vojin dropped to his knees before her and vowed to grant her heart’s desire if she would but lay with him once. Aratha demanded from him three daughters who would surpass her in every way, including being bound to no man or god. Consumed with desire, he granted her wish and in the fall of the next year she bore three daughters, Nesa, Vesa and Osa, the founders of our people.