by Tabitha Kosicki December 06, 2025 3 min read
Hel is the daughter of Loki, the shape-shifter, and Angrboda, the great giantess of the Ironwood.
Her siblings are:
Fenrir, the wolf fated to devour Odin
Jörmungandr, the World Serpent
Because of a prophecy that Loki’s children would bring destruction to the gods, Odin cast each one into a place where they would be contained or serve the cosmic order.
For Hel, this meant she was:
Given authority over the dead
Placed in the misty realm beneath Niflheim
Granted sovereignty unmatched by most gods
Feared, yet necessary
By decree of fate, Hel became the queen of souls, the keeper of the unheroic dead, and the custodian of one-third of all who die.
Hel is famously described as half-living, half-dead:
One side beautiful, flesh-toned, radiant
The other cold, blue-black, skeletal or corpse-like
This duality is not meant to frighten — it symbolizes truth, the inescapable balance of existence:
Life and death
Growth and decay
Beauty and dissolution
Fate and acceptance
Hel stands exactly where these forces meet, unashamed and unwavering.
Hel rules over Helheim, a realm deep beneath the roots of Yggdrasil. Unlike Christian-influenced later concepts, Helheim is NOT a place of punishment for the wicked.
Instead, Helheim is:
Cold, quiet, misty
Filled with the voices of ancestors
A land of peaceful stillness
A place where the dead dwell in long memory
A realm of inevitable return
Halls stand beneath frosted fields. Rivers flow slowly under dim light. Herds of spectral animals wander. The dead are not tormented — simply resting, dreaming through the ages until Ragnarok or until the world’s renewal. Offerings of food left by the living for their ancestors fill long feast tables.
Hel is both queen and caretaker.
Hel is often described with three qualities:
Hel does not lie, flatter, or soften reality. She shows things as they are.
She teaches:
Acceptance of mortality
The wisdom of endings
The value of letting go
All humans, whether kings or beggars, eventually come to Hel.
In her realm, status means nothing — truth alone remains.
Though she seems cold, she is not cruel. Her compassion is quiet, steady, and ancient — a motherly acceptance that receives all who are weary.
Hel is the goddess who says:
“Rest now. Your struggle is over.”
When Baldur, the beloved god of beauty and light, was killed, his soul descended to Hel’s realm. Hermod, Odin’s messenger, rode to Helheim to plead for his release.
Hel listened and decreed:
Baldur may return only if all things in the world weep for him
For death should only be undone by unanimous longing
Almost everything living and non-living wept — except one giantess (Loki in disguise), sealing Baldur’s fate.
Hel’s judgment was not malicious. It was fairness, rooted in the sacred order of life and death.
To undo death lightly is to break the balance of the cosmos.
Hel is associated with:
Wolves
Ravens
Serpents
Shadows
Roots
Bones
The color blue-black (corpse hue)
Frost and mist
Still waters
She is also connected to elders, ancestors, and grave mounds, showing her deep ties to lineage and memory.
Modern metaphysical correspondences for Hel resonate with themes of:
shadow work, endings, ancestral connection, grounding, and truth.
Black Obsidian — cutting through illusion; guided descent into shadow work.
Labradorite — liminal magic, mystery, walking between worlds.
Jet — ancient fossilized wood for deep ancestral contact and protection.
Snowflake Obsidian — balance of darkness and light; emotional neutrality.
Hematite — grounding, death-rebirth cycles, stability in grief.
Onyx — strength in the face of transformation; endurance.
Smoky Quartz — letting go, acceptance, cleansing lingering attachments.
Moonstone (Black or Grey) — connection to death cycles, dreams, and intuition.
Placed alongside candles, bones, or offerings of water and bread, these stones anchor Hel’s subtle, profound presence.
Those called to Hel often experience:
Dreams of one's ancestors
A fascination with death as transformation
A desire for radical honesty
Sudden clarity about what must end
Emotional detachment that becomes wisdom
The urge to release old wounds
A shift toward quiet leadership
Comfort in solitude
Hel comes when:
Cycles must close
Grief needs to be honored
Truth needs to be faced
Ancestral healing begins
One must learn neutrality and acceptance
Spiritual seekers approach the “roots” of their path
Hel does not frighten — she grounds.
She teaches the art of ending well, of resting deeply, and of embracing one’s wholeness — shadow and light: the skeleton and the flesh.
She whispers:
“There is beauty in decay. There is power in release. Nothing is lost. All returns.”
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