This is not the tale of one person. This is the dream of all who have been cast out, who walk between worlds, who mourn in silence and love with fire. This is for the lost child, the sacred queer, the ones who refuse to die. This is for the grief of the child who was never held. The grief of the queer spirit who was silenced, the divine feminine erased from the world. For those longing for wholeness.
The Child of Suffering and Love
In the beginning, there was a child named Robin. Now if I speak of Robin as Sylwen, I speak of the ego that was bound in suffering. He who was born into a world too cold and cruel to embrace the warmth of their heart. He sought connection, a presence that would say, “You belong here.” But the world, as it often does with those too radiant, did not answer. It turned its face from Robin’s light, offering silence, isolation, and rejection. And so, the child learned to survive, to adapt, to wear masks of cleverness and kindness. Yet beneath it all, there simmered an immense shadow of grief, deep and persistent. This grief was not just for the lost child, but for the very essence of him, the soul of Eros that was cast aside by the world’s cruelty. Yet he loved regardless.
The Lost Child and the Shadow of Grief (ages 5-8)
As the world rejected my true nature, the Self (Sylwen), which sought to express the full spectrum of my being, was wounded. In this way, the archetype of the Child was cast aside, lost, and forgotten, along with the potential for integration of the fullness of life. Yet the grief, as the shadow of the child, would follow me, thus carrying the unintegrated aspects of their soul, always yearning for recognition and wholeness.
Renata: A Fleeting Connection (ages 5 to 10)
In the village where he grew, there was for a time one person who truly understood his heart. A spirited, caring and adventurous girl named Renata. She was the butcher’s daughter, bright-eyed and full of mischief, a friend like no other. Together, me and Renata explored the mysteries of life, roaming the village and escaping to their secret grove, a place where dreams could soar free. In Renata’s laughter, I found a fleeting sense of belonging, a joy that touched the deepest parts of their soul. But as time passed, their bond deepened into something more, a love unspoken yet undeniable.
The Tragic Loss of Renata (age 10)
And then, tragedy struck. Renata was taken from this world too soon, her life claimed at age 10, as if by the bite of a snake, an accident that tore my heart asunder. This grief, like Orpheus mourning Eurydice, did not fade. It lingered, a constant companion, and I could not escape the hollow ache left by Renata’s absence. No other love could fill the deep void, no other connection could heal the wound. Even in relationships with others, I carried the haunting specter of Renata, a love unfulfilled, forever lost. She was my Eurydice, my Beatrice, my Persephone, my Sophia.
The Soul’s Lamentation: Echoes of Orpheus
This is the tale of the soul’s lamentation. Like Orpheus, whose music could move all things, my grief was so deep that it reverberated throughout my entire being. Renata, like Eurydice, represented a lost part of my soul. Something pure, untarnished, that could not be replaced. My inability to love again fully, to re-enter life without Renata, mirrors the myth of Orpheus, whose sorrow kept him from living in the world once more. Not just Renata and my Anima, but my very soul.
The Descent into the Underworld
But this loss was only the beginning of a deeper journey, one that would take me into the depths of the underworld itself. I had as a child already experienced a form of death. This was not the death of the body, but the death of the soul. Robin (former self before becoming Sylwen), was cast by family and community into isolation. He fell into a deep psychic catatonia, a state of emotional exile. The entire world around him became a tundra, a place devoid of love, of warmth, or of connection. No longer seen by the world, and in this absence, his very essence seemed to wither. This is how we lived most of our life, before in Finland we sought to heal. Guided by the wisdom of Artemis and Persephone. Into the depths of the underworld.
Robin as the Exiled Eros (age 5 to 28)
It was here, in the abyss, that Robin became a martyr of Eros. In this cruel act, Robin was meant to suffer endlessly, their innocence a tragic contrast to the darkness they were forced to endure. The community lived in denial of their role in the suffering. Like Yemo, the primordial child sacrificed to the underworld, Robin had become the bearer of shadows. Those who embody Eros, the deep connection to the Self, are often made to carry the burdens of their family, their society, burdens that can never be fully understood or borne by others. Robin was not only cast aside by society, but also disconnected from their own psyche, left to wander the desolate landscape of grief. Exiled for being a vessel of Eros, of sacred love and presence. Cast aside for being "too much," “too different,” for feeling “too deeply,” for being queer.
He had his essence rejected by the world, forced to live in a state of spiritual exile for decades. Eros is a powerful archetypal energy representing love, creativity, and vitality. Being "exiled" from Eros means that a soul has been cut off from its own life force, leading to spiritual desolation. The exile of Eros can be seen as the repression of love and authenticity in a world that prioritizes pragmatism and survival over connection. The tragedy of this martyrdom is the cost it exacts, the separation from one’s own soul, from love, and from community. Eros here is not just romantic or personal love but a cosmic force that drives the individual toward integration, healing, and reunion with the divine. Robin (and me as Sylwen) is a child of the Divine Feminine, a Child of Artemis and Persephone. A psychopomp, a walker between worlds. Bassareus, fox-skinned.
Artemis: A Lifeline in the Darkness (age 14 to 28)
Yet even in the deepest shadows of the underworld, Robin was not alone. Artemis the goddess of the wilderness, protector of children, and keeper of the moon’s light, did not let Robin’s suffering be in vain. While the community cast Robin into the darkness, Artemis offered them a lifeline, through a sacred pledge made at age 14. She guided Robin through their suffering, not allowing them to be consumed by it. Guiding him towards the divine feminine, and his Anima Christina. This is his inner counterpart, the divine feminine who had once been lost. Their shared grief was not just for the lost moments of life, but for the parts of themselves that had been erased, the lost child, the Anima, the Eros that had been sacrificed. Where our Anima slowly became Lucia Nyktelios, mourning with her child, the state of dismemberment. In the depths of the underworld, like Persephone in her time below, he found the seeds of rebirth.
The goddess Artemis, protector of children and the wilds, was the first to make her presence known to me. She was the mother who did not turn her back when others had; she was the guardian who allowed me to rest in the spaces of our grief and pain, without the expectation of immediate healing. Artemis was a figure of solace, soft, tender, yet unyielding in her commitment to protect. In Artemis, we saw the archetype of the divine feminine not as passive or submissive, but as a dynamic and active force in the world, one that could stand strong in the face of adversity and offer deep unconditional care to those who are lost. The protector of love, creativity, and vitality.
Nurturing the Inner Child (age 28 to 32)
We began to nurture the inner child, to hold the grief and love in our heart, to heal the wounds of the past. It was not an easy journey. At times, we fell into deeper states of catatonia, where the only companion was our Anima, offering us solace within the mind. Yet, through this process of self-nurturing, a transformation began. Robin, the human, began to die not in bitterness, but in mourning. He let go of the attachments to the world, to the grief, to the loss, until only the love remained. Like Orpheus, he learned to accept that love, in its purest form, is not bound to the physical world. It transcends time and space, finding its way back to the soul even when all seems lost.
Robin for most his life, lived in the underworld. Within a state of depression, suicidality and eventually a state of psychic catatonia. Cut of from his Anima, his feeling side, from life itself. He had to descent again into the underworld, into the deep grief and pain, into depression and suffering, to feel through the dismemberment of his inner child and the essence of his soul, the exile of Eros and the feminine, to heal.
The Divine Feminine: Nourishing the Soul
The divine feminine is the nourishing force that feeds the soul when the world seems devoid of warmth, the protector who shelters the vulnerable and the wounded. She is the loving yet firm goddess who holds space for sorrow without judgment, guiding those cast out through the labyrinth of emotional exile. Robin was left to navigate the world alone, without a comforting presence. This pain manifested in a disconnection from their true self, and in this brokenness, he wandered, searching for something to bring them back to wholeness. To bring him back to the Self. Towards what I am.
The Divine Feminine Within
Yet through the divine feminine, I also found a mirror to reflect my own inherent worth, and in her embrace, I found the strength to accept my own vulnerability and wounds. The divine feminine taught me that to heal is not to deny pain, but to sit with it, acknowledge it, and allow it to transform. This devotion grew from the realization that the divine feminine is not just an external force, but an internal one. She is the nurturer of the soul, the reminder that all beings, regardless of external circumstances, are deserving of love, care, and recognition. Eros is the sacred force of love and vitality that binds all existence. Eros is not just about romantic love, but about the unifying and redeeming force that heals brokenness and makes one whole. Without the need for external validation or sacrifice. So a reclamation of Feminine and Queer Power.
The Role of Wolf-Apollo
Yet the fire of Eros and the soul could not be rekindled alone through the love and grieving with the divine feminine. Eros is also rekindled through her brother Wolf-Apollo the one who kindles the soul’s fire with his Wolf Warriors. He is both fierce and protective, capable of guiding the soul through the shadowed recesses of the psyche. It was within the dark woods and winter of Finland that I ventured into the wilderness as a wolf of Apollo and the Goddess Feronia. Going into sacred trance to face what hides within, to face the inner wolf, and dance with it. To be a Wolf-Wounded Prophet.
Wolf-Apollo is not just the bringer of healing through light; he is also the one who channels the raw, transformative power of shadow. He is both fierce and nurturing, guiding those who walk through the dark woods of the psyche and into their deepest fears and traumas. Just as the wolf is both protector and predator, Apollo, in this form, takes on the dual role of healer and challenger, urging the soul to face its deepest wounds in order to emerge stronger. Feronia as Sovereignty Goddess represents the untameable forces of nature that reject domination and control, embracing instead the fluidity of the natural world and its rhythms. She is the protector of the outcast, the one who supports those who have been exiled or cast aside by society. A patron spirit of queer sacredness. Through Feronia, the ritual called me into communion with the earth itself, to the forgotten parts of myself and the truths beneath the surface.
The rituals I did involved surrendering to the ecstatic trance, the release of control, and allowing oneself to be consumed by the raw, elemental forces of the Self. The sacred Korybantes were known for their wild, frenzied dances, often invoking the power of the gods through ecstatic movement. Similarly, the Berserkers were warriors who, in their trance, would enter battle without fear, abandoning their ego and allowing the ferocity of the wolf or bear to guide them. To become both gentle and ferocious.
Through the wild dance and trance, I was shedding the old layers of identity that had bound me in grief and isolation. Just as the Korybantes and ancient Berserkers were transformed, so too was I transformed in my soul’s battle against its own darkness. Through this surrender to the fire of the soul, I learned to channel my rage, my grief, and my power into something life-affirming rather than destructive. I was reunited with my inner strength, my primal energy, and the wildness that has always been a part of me, even if I was unaware of it. Just as the wolf is both a solitary creature and a pack animal, so too am I embracing both my individuality and my connection to the greater web of life, to the forces that move through the world and shape its destiny.
A Journey of Love and Reverence (age 32>)
Yet I saw how the divine feminine was just as hurt as I was, so I loved her with all my heart and soul. I held my Anima in my embrace, grieving together for the child lost, the death of the great mother, the suffering imposed upon the feminine and all those marginalised. For all queer folk and feminine people of the earth, the children of the earth mother who have gone unheard, unseen and unloved. When I see the feminine depicted in her sacredness I see not just femininity, but I see her fullness. Something worthy of reverence and love, something to be cherished and held in the fullness of her sacredness. I held her. I didn’t just receive her. I loved her back. And through this love for my Anima, we loved each other into wholeness. From this embrace and love, me as Sylwen was born. Birthed out of the dismembered fragments and divine spark of the divine child within. Out of the grief and love between Robin and his Anima.
The ultimate goal here was not just psychological stability or emotional healing. But a full rebirth of the soul. It is a transformative process where the individual is not only healed but fundamentally changed, brought into deeper connection with their true essence. This is a deeply mystical approach, where one doesn’t just “cope” with dualities but transcends them into a unified experience. To become the Self and through feeling the dismemberment of the child within, emerge as a new being, beyond suffering and fear. To become the Homo Novus (the new man). To fully embrace the totality of being, light and dark, love and grief, life and death.
Dionysus as Sacred King
Phanes-Dionysus as Nyktelioi, as Eros, also embodies both the energies of the Artemis and Wolf-Apollo (Mars-Quirinus), combining two powerful forces that represent Wholeness. Which creates a deep connection between the individual and the divine, as well as the ability to heal and guide others through compassion and spiritual sovereignty. On the other side of this integration lies the figure of the Wolf-Apollo (Mars-Quirinus). This archetype blends passion, desire, and courage with discipline, strategy, and divine insight, creating a force of balance that moves through the world with purpose and focus. The Koryos of Wolf-Apollo would prepare a man for this role of Sacred King by nurturing the inner Dionysian. So nurturing the lost child of the Sovereignty Goddess, who through his return brings inner Sovereignty.
This is where Eros, the god of love and attraction, enters the picture, fusing both the masculine and feminine energies to create a whole that transcends duality. And it is Phanes-Dionysus who is the Sacred King. By embodying both the energy of Artemis, Persephone and Wolf-Apollo, the Sacred King is an expression of divine wholeness, capable of healing, inspiring, and transforming both himself and the world around him.
The Katatheosis through Nyx
And when the veil at the edge of the world grew thin, and the ashes of Robin settled like soft stardust upon the soil of dreams, there rose from the silence a breathless stillness, the kind that comes only when something eternal is born. From the black horizon, where light was never meant to tread, Nyx emerged. The keeper of Elysium, the source of all sacred love. The mother of Eros (Phanes) and all Nyktelioi. There, in the space where Robin had ceased, she reached into the heart of shadow and pulled forth the child of the night. Not born, but remembered. Not created, but revealed.
She whispered the name: "Sylwen."
A name not heard but felt, like moonlight touching still water, like a truth too old for words. There I held the hands of Christina and Artemis, in most holy bond. I as Sylwen rose, not as survivor, not as exile. But wings unfurled. And I walked, barefoot, into the unknown. Not to escape it. But to become it. A Nyktelioi, the night-born child. A new mode of being that has transcended the limitations of the ego and societal constraints.
Sylwen is both dismembered child and queer outcast, and as Eros the force of inner redemption. They transcend the cosmic order of Kronos (the super-ego) and the old trauma and fear driven paradigm of sacrifice and suffering. Where the outcast is to suffer endlessly until they “atone” for what they embody, to repress their true nature. Sylwen, instead, found peace and empowerment outside of that Kronian order, thus rejecting the premise that they need to return to society in order to be whole. Sylwen no longer is the scapegoat who must be cast out to restore repression. Instead they are Eros, the source of love, compassion, wholeness and integration of everything. They are the queer sovereign outcast, showing that the "outsider" can be a ruler of their own domain. Creating the seeds of the new cosmic order of Lucia Nyktelios.