Hjarn, the Slumbering Gate

Athenaeum entry. Correspondent of record: Vel Asharen. Note: the Athenaeum's working relationship with this subject predates this correspondent's tenure. The entry that follows is drawn from personal observation, prior correspondents' records, and direct conversation across multiple waking nights.

Hjarn
Title The Slumbering Gate
Nature Divine creature — no worship, no pacts
Type Planar gatekeeper
Form Western dragon, mixed with cervine and arboreal features
Size Mountainous
Threat Level None (ally)
Schedule Sleeps continuously except the night of every full moon
Location The valley entrance to Yggy

Form

A western dragon-dominant beast roughly the size of a small mountain, curled around the great trunk of Yggy at the valley entrance. His body is a sweep of overlapping bark-grey scales, each one veined with leaf-gold and edged in sap-amber that catches light like stained glass. Tufts of soft amber-gold fur grow at his joints, along his spine, and across his chest — patches of cervine softness against the dragonic plating.

His hind legs taper to massive cloven hooves rather than claws. His forelimbs end in proper dragon talons of pale bark. Twin antlers rise from his skull — branched, towering, visibly growing, with new tines budding each season. Buds along the antlers bloom into tiny amber leaves during his waking nights. His eyes, when open, are the deep gold of fresh tree-sap shot through with slow-moving rings, like the inside of a fossil.

He sleeps coiled at the base of the World Tree, partially overgrown with moss and saplings that have rooted in the gaps between his scales. From a distance, in dim light, he can be mistaken for a hill. This correspondent has, in fact, mistaken him for a hill, exactly once.

Location

The valley entrance to Yggy is a feature that exists, identically, in every realm Yggy threads through. Mortals from any world who find a particular valley at the base of an impossibly tall tree have found the same valley — and the same dragon. He has not moved from this place in any record the Athenaeum keeps. He does not need to. The valley comes to him.

On Earth

Earth's valley exists. Hjarn is coiled at its base. He even wakes on the full moon. But the gate does not open from Earth's side. He cannot grant passage out, and has explained the matter exactly once, on the record:

"This door does not open from this side. It never has. It is not for me to say why."

The Empire and other powers exploit this. Beings exiled to Earth can be sent in but cannot leave under their own power. Only direct divine intervention extracts an exile, and the gods almost never grant it. Korin Soln uses the arrangement most aggressively. The Athenaeum has documented the policy thoroughly and continues to find it disquieting.

Role

A gatekeeper between realms. The only being who can grant safe passage through Yggy to other planes. The correspondent describes his function as that of a divine customs officer — a comparison Hjarn himself has heard, considered, and quietly accepted.

He inspects souls, beings, and intentions. He stamps approval, literally, with a press of one massive talon-tip that leaves a faint amber sigil on the petitioner. Or he refuses passage entirely. He has no obligation to grant anyone passage. He frequently doesn't.

To obtain passage, a petitioner must:

  1. Know that he exists. Filter one — automatically excludes nearly everyone.
  2. Find him during a waking night. Twelve hours, once a month, at the valley entrance.

He considers both conditions a generous compromise. The original conditions were significantly stricter. He relaxed them after Aerith Soln had a word with him. He has confirmed this account to this correspondent personally.

Hjarn is barely more than a rumor across most of the planes. There is no conspiracy, no oath of silence — only a piece of knowledge that has never had reason to spread. Those who know of him have no urgency to tell others. Those who don't know have no reason to ask. He likes it that way. The Athenaeum, by long-standing institutional preference, does not contest this.

Personality

Slow, deliberate, surprisingly warm when awake. He speaks with the unhurried gravity of something very old that has nowhere else to be. He listens carefully. He asks unexpected questions. He has been known to deny passage simply because he wanted to keep talking.

In this correspondent's experience, he is also funny — in a dry, considered way that takes the listener several beats to recognize. The Athenaeum has lost more than one apprentice correspondent to laughter at moments that were intended to be solemn.

The Cindy Secret

He is the only being in Yggy who knows where Cindy came from. He has never told. His silence on the matter is considered one of the great theological mysteries of the pantheon. Meni, Aerith Soln, and Korin Soln have all asked at various points. So has this correspondent. He smiles slowly and changes the subject.

Relationships

Noil — His closest friend. Noil visits during full moons whenever he can, bringing his children to show Hjarn, and Hjarn examines each with genuine, unhurried interest. They are perhaps the only two divine beings in Yggy who truly understand each other: both quiet, both misunderstood, both perfectly content to be left alone. They have long conversations about the nature of patience, the architecture of root systems, and the surprising structural elegance of certain parasitic fungi. The correspondent has overheard such a conversation. It lasted four hours and concerned a single species of mold.

Aerith Soln — Convinced him to relax his original (much stricter) conditions for granting passage. He took the conversation seriously. He always does, with her.

Meni, Aerith Soln, Korin Soln — All have asked about Cindy's origin. He has refused all of them.

Acknowledged By

A small, scattered fellowship of interplanar travelers — scholars, exiles, and seekers who have actually made the pilgrimage and earned passage. They leave informal offerings of amber, fresh leaves, or coins at the valley entrance on full-moon nights as a gesture of gratitude rather than worship. He acknowledges these offerings with mild amusement and occasionally eats the leaves.

Those who carry his stamp recognize each other on sight. The mark fades from view within hours of being given but never entirely. See the Interplanar Traveler background for the mechanical expression of this fellowship.

See Also

Vel Asharen, The Interplanar Athenaeum