§ 1. Mythology: One Trilogy to Rule Them All
I’ll mostly be writing about fantasy, but even outside of it, some settings concentrate an enormous amount of power in their greedy clutches. Is the Federal Antimonopoly Service asleep? Initially, I wanted to write an essay with the general message of, “Well? Come on, people!” but then, while researching examples, I got carried away and inspired by a ton of things. And I was also inspired to inspire others. If even one thing here sparks an interesting idea for a single writer (even through a long chain of associations), then my work here is done.
Most fantasy is centered on Northern Europe: Scandinavians with their runes and dragons, Anglo-Saxons with their elves and goblins. That’s the baseline. As an example, take Bernhard Hennen’s The Elven series.
§ 1.1. More Baselines
Arthuriana: Not quite mythology, but rather a romantic myth with a rich blend of whipped-up archetypes that writers exploit, often unconsciously. A very influential universe of imagery. And it’s extremely popular for retellings. Examples: The Mists of Avalon by Marion Zimmer Bradley and The Once and Future King by T. H. White.
Greco-Roman Mythology: It also feels like it isn’t a guest in popular culture, but rather the gone completely bonkers guest who’s overstayed their welcome at an overly hospitable host’s home. It is, perhaps, the second most popular source of inspiration after Norse and Celtic mythologies. Examples: the Percy Jackson series by Rick Riordan and the God of War game series.
And with Egyptian Mythology, you don’t need a lengthy introduction to explain to readers what it’s all about. It’s unique for its afterlife cosmology, its attitude towards the body and name as vessels of the soul, and, of course, its magic wands. Examples: The Kane Chronicles by Rick Riordan, The Mummy film, and the game Assassin’s Creed: Origins.
Middle Eastern Mythology: Djinns, rogue heroes, flying carpets, and if you throw in the desert aesthetic, then... whoa. (Dune, The Wheel of Time, White Sand, if we’re including the desert theme; One Thousand and One Nights). It’s the runner-up for distant, exotic lands in fantasy, right after the jungle.
East Asian Mythology: It’s popular, and popularing and popularing every day. Wuxia, Xianxia, Xuanhuan, monks, samurai, ninjas... Examples: the anime Naruto, Princess Mononoke, the game Sekiro: Shadows Die Twice.
Christian Demonology and Apocrypha: These are also common raiders of books, though they often remain on the periphery of the reader’s attention. Fallen angels, hierarchies of hell, hierarchies of angels, saints, and, let’s say, loose interpretations of The Divine Comedy. And what are the villain arcs! I must admit, I used to be weirded out by fantasy settings with angels, but angels did coexist with elves at a certain point in history. Besides, the word “angel” is just a name, albeit one that carries a lot of baggage. In books, there are no limits to what you can write; you can call dogs dragons if you want. Examples: the Demonica by Arjun Maheshwari, the Diablo game series.
And even when authors take on “exotic” mythologies, they often reduce them to a stylization of the Western fantasy canon. Or they just borrow a monster from another culture (I’m guilty of this myself).
§ 1.2. Victims of Vile Neglect
What do we know about Slavic mythology? What intrigues did the gods—Triglav, Veles, Mara—weave against one another? Why is the lich king, who wisely used a common needle for his phylactery (though he got carried away later), called Thrall the Deathless? Why does the powerful witch have a bone leg and live in a sentient hut on chicken legs?
There’s a lot of Slavic fantasy out there, but most of it consists of human-centric stories where the magical world is much like our own: myths, legends, something distant, or retellings of fairy tales. Sometimes it’s urban fantasy—a bit of folklore, a dash of devilry, a “myth-next-door” style. But I’m talking about high fantasy, where different races like the Divi people, the white-eyed Chud, or the Volots play a significant role in the narrative, rather than just being names for wild monsters.
Still, Slavic mythology has some presence, for example, in Wolfhound by Maria Semyonova or The Bear and the Nightingale by Katherine Arden, and you’ll see Chernobog pop up here and there. I even considered including this mythology in the baseline, but the same definitely can’t be said for these next beauties...
Mythologies of Siberia: The tales from the Asian part of Russia seem creepy to me. Which is understandable if you live in the absolute middle of nowhere, with no other people for miles, just a vast, dense forest from which some chthonic entity could emerge at any moment to say hello. But these mythologies are also dark matter—ancient, alive, and frightening.
Yakut Mythology: Three worlds connected by the tree of life, Aal Luuk Mas. There are evil spirits, the abaasy, and good spirits, the aiyy. It fits perfectly with dark shamanic fantasy or a mystical cosmology. Examples: The Sun in Snares by Marina Sycheva, and the horror films Spirit of Itchi and The Cuckoo (what was I saying about creepy?).
Buryat Mythology: Shamanism closely tied to nature spirits: the ekhirits (spirits of mountains, forests, lakes), the khadag-khan (celestial patrons), and the burkhans (benefactor gods). Spirits can possess people, and deceased ancestors often continue to live alongside the living. The only example I can think of is the game Pathologic, with a culture partially inspired by Buryat and steppe traditions.
Bashkir Mythology: This is a world where the sky is held up by a giant tree, and the world is divided into three parts: celestial, terrestrial, and underwater/underground. A major role is played by master-spirits (iä) of mountains, forests, and waters, as well as the cult of ancestors. A special place is given to tales of batyrs (bogatyrs (well, not really helpful clarification in translation)) and epic poems like “Ural-batyr.” The myths often feature magical birds, like the bird of happiness Humay (daughter of the sky god), and winged horses called tulpars. For an example, the song “Homay” by the band AY YOLA.
Finno-Ugric Mythology: The basis for the epic “Kalevala.” It’s a world of shamanism, powerful singer-sorcerers (Väinämöinen), and the underworld of Tuonela. Example: the game The Mooseman.
Balkan Mythology: Its own system of vampires, a benevolent dragon-like Zmey, a demonic creature and eternal enemy of Zmey called Ala (a personification of destructive elemental forces), and the krsnik—a person (often born in a caul) whose spirit leaves their body in sleep, taking the form of an animal to fight evil. A sort of shaman-monster hunter. There are numerous practices of divination and folk magic. Any urban fantasy author should take a closer look. Examples: the film Leptirica and the book The Tiger’s Wife by Téa Obreht.
Turkic and Mongolian Mythology: Belief in the eternal Sky Deity Tengri, the earth goddess Umay, and the underworld of Erlik. Shamans, ancestral spirits, epic tales like “Manas” or “Geser” (these are ready-made fantasy frameworks, just not yet explored). I had to search for similar works as direct examples. Under Heaven and River of Stars by Guy Gavriel Kay: Although this is more historical fantasy based on medieval China, the influence of neighboring steppe cultures is palpable. Songs of the Drowned by Anna Stephens: A fantasy where the pantheon of gods is inspired by Tengrism. The game Ghost of Tsushima: Though set in Japan, the Mongol invasion and their shamanic rituals are depicted as an alien, powerful, and frightening force. And we might as well throw Mulan in here too.
Indian Mythology: I’m trying to avoid advertising clichés, but this is truly an incredibly rich and complex world. The “Mahabharata” and “Ramayana” are already epic fantasies in their own right. Reincarnation, wars of the gods, a pantheon with the Trimurti (Brahma, Vishnu, Shiva), numerous avatars of gods, asuras (demons), apsaras (celestial dancers), and amazing weapons (the Brahmastra) with immense destructive power. No, seriously powerful—comparable to a nuclear weapon. The potential is enormous, but it’s often used only superficially, even though this mythology is constantly on the edge of the collective consciousness, hand-in-hand with esotericism and spiritual practices. There are plenty of examples, enough to make others envious: The Phoenix King by Aparna Verma, Sons of Darkness by Gourav Mohanty, and video games like Raji: An Ancient Epic, Asura’s Wrath, and I’ll throw in Beyond Good & Evil 2 by old friendship (it has some Brahmanistic vibes).
Iranian (Persian) Mythology: Based on Zoroastrianism, the cult of fire, and the dualistic struggle between good and evil. A universe where the supreme god of light, Ahura Mazda, opposes the evil spirit Angra Mainyu (Ahriman). There’s room here for demonic daevas, angel-like yazatas, fairy-like peris, and epic heroes like Rostam. I was about to just slap Prince of Persia in as an example, but this is a serious essay, so I checked, and the first trilogy falls into Middle Eastern tales. However, the 2008 and 2024 games are definitely Persian: the god of darkness Ahriman, the god of light Ormazd (another name for Ahura Mazda), the bird Simurgh, and even Mount Qaf. Other examples: The Daevabad Trilogy by S. A. Chakraborty: Although it features djinns and an Arabian setting, there are also daevas and peris. Arslan Senki series by Yoshiki Tanaka and Hiromu Arakawa.
Native American Mythology: Cosmogonies of blood and stars, universes where time flows in a circle and gods walk the earth. The Navajo have stories of changing worlds and coyote-people. The Iroquois have legends of flying heads and stone giants. Nature spirits, totemism, the concept of the Great Spirit (Manitou). Native Americans themselves are well-represented in media, but their mythology, at best, serves more as a backdrop and symbolism. Well, let’s count the Tyranny of King Washington DLC for Assassin’s Creed 3.
Mesoamerican Mythologies: This means the Aztecs, the Maya. The feathered serpent Quetzalcoatl, Tezcatlipoca—the god of night with a smoking mirror for a foot, human sacrifices to keep the sun moving. This is a setting for very dark and ritualistic fantasy. Examples: the game Aztec: The Curse in the Heart of the City of Gold, the animated film The Road to El Dorado, the Argonians from The Elder Scrolls, Shandora from One Piece. Okay, I wrote “dark and ritualistic fantasy” and then gave bright and cheerful examples, but since the author himself pointed out his own mistake, it’s like it never happened, right?
Australian Aboriginal Myths: Their theme is animism. The “Dreamtime” is pure magical metaphysics—it even sounds The Wheel of Time-ish. It’s not just a mythical past, but an eternally existing parallel dimension. Songs create reality—by singing a song in the right place, a person doesn’t just recall a creation myth, they participate in it, sustaining reality and reaffirming their connection to the land. The Rainbow Serpent who creates rivers, and a multitude of spirits inhabiting every rock and tree. The Mimi spirits are so thin and fragile that a strong wind could break them, so they live in the crevices of rocks. Here’s a long list of examples: the films The Last Wave and Ten Canoes, the series Cleverman, the books Terra Nullius by Claire G. Coleman, The Last Continent by Terry Pratchett, and The Interrogation of Ashala Wolf by Ambelin Kwaymullina.
African Mythologies: Here you’ll find spirits, talking masks, thunder goddesses, and ancestral realms.
Yoruba Mythology (West Africa: Nigeria, Benin, Togo): A single, supreme, and unreachable creator god, Olodumare. However, people interact not with him, but with the Orisha—a pantheon of powerful spirits or deities who are emanations of Olodumare.
Kongo Mythology (Central Africa): The supreme creator god is Nzambi a Mpungu. Like Olodumare, he is distant from human affairs. Spirits and ancestors play a central role. Nkisi are ritual objects (often figurines or vessels) inhabited by spirits. They are not idols, but rather “containers” or focal points for spiritual power.
Dogon Mythology (West Africa: Mali): They possess one of the most complex and detailed cosmologies in the world. Their creation myth tells of the creator god Amma, who made all that exists. Creation through a spiral and the word. The Nommo are primordial spirits, often described as amphibious. They are considered the ancestors of humanity, who brought knowledge to Earth. Given that this ancient knowledge is claimed to include information about the Sirius star system, including the existence of its companion star, Sirius B, which is invisible to the naked eye, it certainly gives you ideas. So, if you ever need to introduce reptiloids, you can tie them much deeper into Earth’s history.
Ashanti Mythology (West Africa: Ghana): The central figures here are the stories of the trickster, Anansi the spider-man.
San Mythology (Bushmen, Southern Africa): One of the oldest cultures on the planet. The key figure is Cagn—an unpredictable creator god and trickster, often taking the form of a praying mantis.
Examples: The books Children of Blood and Bone by Tomi Adeyemi and The Dark Star Trilogy by Marlon James; the games Aurion: Legacy of the Kori-Odan and The Wagadu Chronicles.
Oceanian Mythologies (Polynesia, Micronesia, Melanesia): A world where boats cross dimensions, where ocean spirits dance in the vortex of storms. Where heroes like the trickster Māui pull islands from the sea and steal fire from the heavens. Cargo cults, belief in mana—an impersonal supernatural force. A perfect foundation for seafaring fantasy. Well, the example here will probably shock no one with its suddenness: the animated film Moana.
Antarctica is literally a blank slate, a terra nullius, as is the Arctic (peoples of the North: Sámi, Inuit, Chukchi, Nenets). Often used with a “Did you know wha-a-a-a-at’s really out there?!“.
Phew, and that was just scratching the surface. So to write, we stroked with our fingertip the surface of the layered collective consciousness of humanity. But, as we can see from the examples, these mythologies aren’t entirely forgotten. So now, let’s talk about the forgotten, ancient mythologies that can’t reveal themselves because their bearers have long been lost in the dusty ages of history.
§ 1.3. Myths of Myths
Thracians, Illyrians, Celts of Central Europe: They have come down to us in fragments: wild gods, ritual killings, deified horses, the cult of the head, sacrificial pits, battle chants, flutes made of bone, animal cults. Almost completely unexplored. Not even the beginnings of a pantheon, but a rough draft of a mythology into which a second life can be breathed.
Etruscans: Proto-Italians. Their religion was gloomy and fatalistic. Gods like Tinia (sky god), Vels (god of the underworld), and demons (Vanth—the winged messenger of death) governed a complex system of divination and rituals focused on the afterlife. Everything we know comes from their tombs. It gives off a mystical, necromantic vibe.
Mesopotamian (Sumer, Akkad, Babylon, Assyria): One of the oldest mythologies. Enki, Inanna, the chaos-monsters from the Abzu. Of course, when we say “Mesopotamian mythology,” we mean the Epic of Gilgamesh. But their other epics are full of sages, chimeras, portals, magical artifacts, and king-changing rituals—it’s a ready-made framework for fantasy, you just need to take off the Greek-tinted glasses.
Hittite Mythology: The mythology of a powerful empire that rivaled Egypt. It’s a fusion of Hurrian, Mesopotamian, and Hattian beliefs, a true “melting pot” of the ancient world. We barely touch it because its architecture is alien to our usual linearity—it’s... What even is it? An unraveled tangle of primordial stories where gods change forms, switch roles, and no one explains why.
Scythian and Sarmatian Mythologies: The world of nomadic warriors who worshipped a war god in the form of a sword stuck in the ground and a progenitor goddess with snake legs. This is a culture of steppes, kurgans, golden animal-style jewelry, and brutal rituals. Perfect for pulpy heroics in the vein of Conan the Barbarian.
Minoan Culture (Crete): Known to us mainly through Greek myths about it—the Minotaur, the Labyrinth, King Minos. Their own religion, with its bull cult and goddesses holding snakes, remains a mystery. It’s like someone else’s dream. By the way, about “ancient Minoan women’s clothing” with its “open and wide soul.” The Minoans didn’t just think there was no need to cover a woman’s chest, like a man’s, but they actually emphasized it with their dresses, something I’ve never encountered before in real history. But I can recall an example from a work of fiction—A Month Beyond the Rubicon by Sergey Lukyanenko.
