Chwedlau · Lore

Stories Behind the Designs

Welsh and Celtic legends from Ynys Môn and beyond — the stories behind every design.

Tír na nÓg — Shores of the Land of the Young — Across the western sea lies Tír na nÓg, the deathless land where heroes ride white horses through endless summer — and where one backward glance can cost everything.
Cŵn Annwn — The Wild Hunt of Welsh Myth — White-furred, red-eared, and hunting souls across the Welsh skies — meet Cŵn Annwn, the most haunting hounds in Celtic lore.
The Red Dragon of Dinas Emrys — Two dragons, a young Merlin, and a doomed king — the Eryri (Snowdonia) legend behind Y Ddraig Goch, the red dragon on the Welsh flag.
Branwen — The Heartbroken Queen of the Mabinogi — From a marriage in good faith to a war between Wales and Ireland — Branwen's tale is the most tragic in the Welsh mythological canon.
Ynys Môn — Mother of Wales — Sacred grove, last druid stronghold, breadbasket of medieval Gwynedd — the many lives of Anglesey, our home.
Afanc — The Beast Beneath Welsh Waters — Half dragon, half beaver, all terror — meet the Afanc, the creature said to lurk in the still pools of Eryri and beyond.
Ceffyl Dŵr — The Welsh Water Horse — A shimmering horse rises from a mountain stream and offers you a ride. In Welsh folklore, this is the very last thing you want to accept.
The Phoenix — From Egyptian sun temples to medieval Welsh bestiaries, the phoenix has burned and risen for over three thousand years. Here is why we keep telling its story.
The Griffin — Noble Guardian of the Old World — King of beasts joined to king of birds — for three thousand years the griffin has stood as a symbol of strength, vigilance and unshakeable loyalty.
The Kelpies — Water Horses of the Dark Loch — A horse waits by black water with a dripping mane and patient eyes. In Scottish folklore, that invitation is never innocent.
Werewolf — The Beast Beneath the Skin — The werewolf endures because it asks a terrifying question: what if the monster was not outside the door, but waiting inside us?
Mermaid — Song of the Deep — Half human, half sea, the mermaid belongs to the border between worlds — and border places are always powerful.
Kraken — Terror of the Deep — Before maps were complete and the deep ocean had a name, sailors imagined something vast waiting beneath the waves.
Minotaur — Heart of the Labyrinth — Bull-headed, human-bodied, and trapped in a maze of stone — the Minotaur is one of myth's most tragic monsters.
Centaur — Wild Wisdom of the Hills — The centaur stands between instinct and intellect — a creature of speed, strength, music, medicine, and wild places.
Anubis — Guardian of the Dead — Anubis stands at the edge of life and death, guarding the passage into the afterlife and the weighing of the heart.
Blue Men of the Minch — Between Lewis and the mainland, the Blue Men rise from the waves to test sailors with riddles, storms, and song.
Selkie — The Seal Folk of the Isles — Selkies slip from seal to human by setting aside their skin. Find that skin, hide it, and you bind a creature of the sea to a life on land.
Nessie — Monster of the Loch — A long neck, a dark back, a ripple where there shouldn't be one — for fifteen hundred years, something has been moving in Loch Ness.
Cù-Sìth — The Fairy Hound — Larger than a calf, dark green, and silent until it bays three times — the Cù-Sìth is the most feared dog in Scottish folklore.
Nuckelavee — The Skinless Horror of Orkney — Half horse, half rider, joined into a single skinless body — the Nuckelavee is the most terrifying creature in Orkney folklore.
Wulver — The Gentle Guardian of Shetland — Not every wolf-headed creature in folklore is a monster. The Shetland Wulver was a quiet, kind soul who watched over the poor.
Bean Nighe — The Washer of Fate — A small, sad spirit kneels at a Highland stream washing bloodstained shrouds. The shroud is yours — unless you are quick enough to outwit her.
Llyn y Fan Fach — The Lady of the Lake — A farmer wins a fairy woman from a mountain lake on three conditions. When he breaks them, she returns to the water — but leaves behind sons who become the most famous healers in Welsh history.
Gwyllgi — The Dog of Darkness — A spectral mastiff with eyes like burning coals haunts the crossroads of Wales after dark. Meet Gwyllgi — the Welsh shadow that walks the lanes alone.
Blodeuwedd — The Woman Made of Flowers — A wife crafted from blossoms for a man cursed never to marry a mortal woman. When she chooses her own heart, the magicians turn her into an owl forever.
Salamander — Born of Flame — A small lizard the medievals believed lived inside fire itself, cold-bodied enough to extinguish flames and old enough to outlive empires.
Twrch Trwyth — The Enchanted Boar — He was once a king, now a giant boar tearing across Wales — and Arthur himself led the hunt to take the treasures hidden in his bristles.
Gwrach y Rhibyn — Hag of the Mist — Long-haired, leather-winged, and weeping at your window — the Gwrach y Rhibyn is the Welsh harbinger of doom, and only certain old families can hear her.
Banshee — The Keening Woman of Ireland — Pale-haired, green-gowned and weeping in the dark — the Banshee belongs to the old Irish families and the night before a death.
Basilisk — King of Serpents — Hatched from a rooster's egg, crowned at birth, and lethal at a glance — the basilisk is the most feared serpent in the medieval bestiary.
Aderyn Llwch Gwin — The Dust Bird — One of the strangest creatures in the Mabinogi — a vast bird so swift and so vast that the dust of its passing made up its very name.
Ankou — The Graveyard Watcher — A tall thin figure in a wide-brimmed hat pulls a creaking cart down a country lane at dusk. In the old Celtic west, you do not want him to stop.
Kitsune — The Nine-Tailed Fox — A fox so old, so wise, and so magical that she has grown nine tails — and a habit of falling in love with mortals.
Medusa — The Gorgon — A glance that turns men to stone, hair of writhing serpents, and a story far more tragic than the one most people remember.
The Highland Haggis — Mythical Beast of Scotland — Tourists have been hunting it for centuries. Locals have been laughing for just as long. Meet the Wild Haggis, Scotland's most beloved mythical creature.
The Highland Unicorn — Scotland's National Animal — Untameable, fiercely proud, and chained in heraldry for a reason — why Scotland chose the unicorn as its national symbol.
Redcap — The Bloodthirsty Goblin of the Borders — He lives in ruined castles, carries an iron pike, and dyes his cap fresh red in the blood of travellers. Meet the Redcap.
The Sea Mither — Orkney's Mother of the Sea — Every spring she fights the dark spirit of the sea and wins. Every autumn she loses. The Orcadian myth that explains the weather of the northern isles.
Will-o'-the-Wisp — The Lights That Lead You Astray — They drift over peat bogs at midnight and look just like a lantern in the distance. Follow them, and you will not come back.
Beithir — The Thunder Serpent of the Highlands — Born from a snake left lying after death, grown vast on the high ground, and answerable only to thunder. The Beithir is Scotland's forgotten dragon.
Ceasg — The Mermaid of the Highland Lochs — Scotland's freshwater mermaid grants three wishes — but only to those who keep their word. The Ceasg is gentler than her sea cousins, and far more dangerous if betrayed.
The Sluagh — Host of the Restless Dead — Not every dead soul is welcomed by heaven, hell, or the fairy mounds. The ones turned away become the Sluagh, the most feared of all Highland spirits.
The Brownie — Scotland's Household Spirit — He sweeps your floor at night, threshes your grain, and asks for nothing but a bowl of cream. Insult him, though, and he will be gone before morning.
Each-Uisge — The Deadliest Water Horse in Scotland — He haunts the sea-lochs and the deep freshwater lochs of the Highlands. He is the most malevolent water spirit in Gaelic tradition. And he has a trick the Kelpie does not.
Ghillie Dhu — The Shy Guardian of the Birch Woods — He lived in the birch woods of Gairloch, dressed in foliage so perfect he could not be seen, and the only people he ever showed himself to were children who had wandered too far from home.
Am Fear Liath Mòr — The Grey Man of Ben Macdui — Britain's most modern monster haunts the second-highest peak in Scotland. Hardened mountaineers have come down off Ben Macdui white-faced and refusing to climb it again.
Baobhan Sìth — The Blood Fairy of the Highlands — She danced four hunters to death in a Highland bothy. The story of the Baobhan Sìth is Scotland's oldest vampire legend — and one of its most chilling.
Morgen — The Welsh Siren of the Sea — Long before Homer's sirens, the Welsh told of the Morgen — sea-women whose singing called ships onto the rocks of our coast.
Pegasus — The Winged Horse of Olympus — From the severed neck of Medusa to a constellation in the night sky — Pegasus is the most beautiful violence in Greek mythology.
Wyvern — The Heraldic Dragon of Britain — Two legs, leathery wings, and a barbed tail — the wyvern is the dragon that ended up on half the coats of arms in Britain.
Cerberus — The Three-Headed Hound of Hades — Three heads, a serpent's tail, and the worst job in the underworld — meet the watchdog of the Greek dead.
Chimera — The Impossible Beast of Lycia — The original 'mash-up monster' — a fire-breathing lion with a goat's head growing from its back and a serpent for a tail.
Yeti — The Snow-Walker of the Himalayas — Sherpa folklore, Victorian explorers, and a single photograph in 1951 — meet the Yeti, the white shadow of the high Himalaya.
Harpy — Storm-Winged Snatcher of Greek Myth — Half woman, half raptor — the Harpies were the Greek personification of sudden, snatching storm winds, and the bane of one unlucky king.
Garuda — The Divine Eagle of Hindu and Buddhist Myth — A golden eagle-king who carries the god Vishnu on his back and has been at war with the serpents of the world since the day he was born.
Vampire — The Undead of the Carpathians — Long before Dracula, the villages of Eastern Europe were burying their dead with garlic, iron, and a stake — just in case.
Troll — The Mountain-Dweller of Norse Myth — Long before fairy-tale picture books, the trolls of Norse and Scandinavian folklore were vast, slow, dangerous beings who turned to stone in the sun.
Y Tylwyth Teg — The Welsh Fair Folk — Beautiful, dangerous, and easily offended — the Tylwyth Teg are the original fairies of Wales, and the reason your nain told you never to step inside a ring of mushrooms.
Goblin — The Mischief of the Mines and Hollow Hills — Long before video games made them green cannon fodder, goblins were the petty malevolence of European folklore — the thing that soured the milk and lured miners off their path.
Dylan Ail Don — The Welsh Son of the Wave — A child of the sea-goddess Arianrhod who slipped from his christening straight into the Menai Strait — and was never quite a man of the land again.
Llŷr — The Welsh Sea God — An ancient sea-god of the Brythonic world whose name still rolls through the Mabinogi, the Irish Lir, and Shakespeare's King Lear.
The Mabinogion Raven — Bran the Blessed and the Tower — From the buried head of Bran beneath the White Tower to the six ravens kept at the Tower of London today — one of the longest-running superstitions in British history.
Llamhigyn Y Dŵr — The Water Leaper — A leathery-winged amphibian terror that snapped fishing lines, dragged sheep into the water, and gave Welsh fishermen one more reason to fear the lonely tarn.
Hungry Grass — Féar Gortach — Step on the wrong patch of grass in the Irish countryside and an unstoppable, supernatural hunger takes you — a folk memory of the Famine etched into the land itself.
The Hangman Tree — Jinmenju — Deep in the old Japanese woods stands a tree whose branches reach down like nooses and whose bark grows human faces — a yokai born where lonely travellers vanished.
Jubokko — The Vampire Tree — On old Japanese battlefields a tree was sometimes said to change — its roots grew into the corpses, its branches sharpened into needles, and from then on it lived only on blood.
The Fern Flower — Kupala Night — On the shortest night of the year, somewhere deep in a Slavic forest, a fern is said to flower for a single moment — and whoever finds it is changed forever.
The Bunyip — Terror of the Billabong — From the dark waterholes of the outback comes a creature older than colonial Australia — the Bunyip, the bellowing thing in the billabong that warned children never to drink alone.
Arachne — The Spider Queen — From a Greek weaving contest to the silken cathedrals of Lady Vespera and Arachnyx — meet the spider queens of myth, and the woman who became the first of them.
Franken Hero — The Modern Prometheus — Stitched together in a Geneva laboratory by a teenager's nightmare, Frankenstein's Monster has stalked our imagination for two hundred years — not as villain, but as the most heartbroken hero in Gothic literature.
Wendigo — Hunger of the Northern Woods — Born of starvation, snow and the worst thing a human can do to another human — the Wendigo is the most chilling spirit in North American folklore.
Baba Yaga — The Witch of the Iron Teeth — She lives in a hut on chicken legs, flies in a mortar, and decides whether you live or die based on your manners — meet Baba Yaga, the most ambivalent witch in folklore.
Naga — Serpent Guardians of the Sacred Waters — Half-serpent, half-divine, and coiled around every sacred river and temple from India to Cambodia — meet the Naga, the most regal snakes in world mythology.
Anansi — The Spider Who Stole the Stories — Long before there were stories in the world, there was Anansi — the small black spider who outwitted a python, a leopard and a swarm of hornets to become the keeper of every tale ever told.
The Sphinx — Riddler at the Gates of Thebes — Same shape, two very different beasts — the Sphinx is the oldest story we tell about the price of knowledge.
Fenrir — The Wolf That Ends the World — A wolf raised by the gods who feared him from the day he was born — and whose chains they knew, in their bones, would not hold forever.
The Thunderbird — Spirit of the Storm — Wings that crack lightning, eyes that hurl thunder — the Thunderbird is one of the oldest and most widespread spirits of the North American sky.
The Cyclops — One-Eyed Smiths of the Old World — Long before Odysseus blinded Polyphemus, the Cyclopes were the divine smiths who forged Zeus's thunderbolts in the heart of a volcano.
The Chupacabra — Goat-Sucker of the Americas — First reported in Puerto Rico in 1995, the Chupacabra became the most modern monster in the world — a spined, red-eyed predator that drained livestock dry.
Leshy — The Forest's Watchful Father — He can be the size of a blade of grass or the height of the tallest pine. The Leshy is the forest itself, and he decides who walks back out.
Kikimora — The House Spirit Who Watches You Sleep — Every Slavic house had one. A small, wild-haired woman in the corner of the kitchen who rewarded the tidy and tormented the slovenly.
Alraune — The Mandrake That Screams — Pulled from the earth beneath a hanged man, the Alraune was said to scream so loudly it killed anyone who heard it — so harvesters used dogs to do the digging.
The Drop Bear — Australia's Tallest Tale — A predatory koala the size of a leopard that drops from eucalyptus branches onto the heads of unsuspecting hikers. Mostly fictional. Mostly.
Jinmenju — The Laughing Tree of Japan — Hidden in the deep mountains of Japan grows a tree whose fruit are tiny human faces — and if you make them laugh, they fall.
Furutsubaki-no-rei — The Spirit of the Old Camellia — When a camellia tree lives for centuries, the Japanese said, it begins to dream. And eventually, it walks.
Mau — The Sacred Cats of Egypt — Long before cats ruled the internet, they ruled Egypt. The Mau was sacred to Bastet, mummified by the thousand, and worshipped as the eyes of the sun.
The Merrow — Ireland's Sea-Folk — Off the Atlantic coast of Ireland live the Merrow — sea-people whose magic is held in a small red cap, and whose love stories almost never end well.
The White Stag — Messenger of the Otherworld — From Arthurian Britain to the Welsh Mabinogi to the deer forests of the Highlands, the White Stag has always meant one thing: the hunt is taking you somewhere else.
Cantre'r Gwaelod — The Sunken Kingdom Beneath Cardigan Bay — Sixteen drowned cities, a low-lying kingdom protected only by sluice gates, and one careless night that gave Cardigan Bay its lost civilisation. On still days, fishermen still claim to hear the bells.
Achilles — The Heel of a Hero — Dipped in the river Styx by his immortal mother, Achilles became invulnerable everywhere her fingers did not touch. One heel. One arrow. One of the most famous endings in all of myth.
Hydra — The Many-Headed Serpent of Lerna — A nine-headed serpent in a swamp outside Argos, poisonous breath, immortal middle head, and the labour that taught Heracles you sometimes need fire as well as a sword.
Narcissus — The Boy Who Loved His Reflection — A hunter so beautiful that nymphs and mortals broke their hearts over him — until the gods sent him a reflection he could not look away from. The flower at the water's edge still carries his name.
Bigfoot — Sasquatch, Shadow of the Northern Forest — An eight-foot ape that walks like a man, leaves footprints the size of dinner plates, and somehow never quite lets itself be filmed in focus. The Pacific Northwest's most enduring cryptid.
Prometheus — The Titan Who Stole Fire — A titan who sided with mortals against the gods, smuggled fire out of Olympus in a fennel stalk, and was chained to a Caucasian cliff for an eagle to eat his liver forever. The original Promethean rebellion.
The Salmon of Knowledge — and the Boy's Burnt Thumb — Seven years of hunting one salmon. Seven hazelnuts of all the world's wisdom. One careless boy turning a fish on a spit — and one burnt thumb that changed Irish myth forever.
Maahes — Lion-Headed Warrior of Ancient Egypt — An Egyptian god with the head of a lion and the heart of a judge — protector of the innocent, executioner of the wicked, and one of the most underrated gods in the entire Nile pantheon.
Olgoi-Khorkhoi — The Mongolian Death Worm — Five feet of crimson, no face, no eyes, just appetite. The Gobi nomads have warned about it for centuries — and Western expeditions have spent a hundred years failing to find it.
Mandrake — The Root That Screams — Pull it from the ground and it screams loud enough to kill. Brew it correctly and it heals almost anything. The mandrake has been Europe's most feared and most prized herb for two thousand years.
Bedd Branwen — The Heart-Mound by the Alaw — A lonely Bronze Age cairn on a low rise above the Afon Alaw, named in the Mabinogi as the grave of Branwen, daughter of Llŷr — the queen whose heart broke on this riverbank.
The Druids of Ynys Môn — The Last Stand on Mona — For centuries Ynys Môn was the training ground and final refuge of the British druids — until the Roman legions waded the Menai Strait in AD 60 and burned the sacred groves to the ground.
Llyn Cerrig Bach — The Druids' Drowned Hoard — A small dark pool near RAF Valley that hid, for two thousand years, one of the richest Iron Age treasure-deposits ever found in Britain — flung in by druids before Rome arrived.
Din Dryfol — The Red Wyrm Beneath the Cromlech — On the long ridge above Aberffraw stands a battered Neolithic cromlech where, the old people of Bodorgan said, a red wyrm sleeps still under the capstone — and the stones are warm on winter mornings.
Barclodiad y Gawres — The Giantess's Apronful — A carved Neolithic chamber on the Aberffraw cliffs whose Welsh name remembers the giantess who dropped the stones from her apron — and where, on midsummer eve, the Fair Folk still meet to dance.
Saint Seiriol the Fair — The Penmon Hermit — From his cell at Penmon Priory, the sixth-century Welsh saint Seiriol walked the length of Anglesey every week to meet his friend Cybi at the holy well of Clorach — and came home with his face still pale.
Saint Cybi the Tanned — Caer Gybi at Holyhead — Inside the surviving four walls of the Roman coastguard fort at Holyhead stands the church of Saint Cybi — the wandering Cornish prince who landed at the far western edge of Anglesey and never left.
Saint David — Dewi Sant, Patron of Wales — The only native-born patron saint of Wales: a sixth-century monk of the far west, a white dove on his shoulder, a hill that rose beneath his feet — and a last sermon that Wales still quotes.
The Afanc of Llyn Coron — The famous water-monster of Welsh tradition is usually placed in the lakes of Eryri — but the people of Aberffraw always insisted there was one here too, in the reed-fringed shallows of Llyn Coron.
The Sirens of South Stack — Beneath the white lighthouse on the toothy stack at the western end of Anglesey, sailors swore the cliffs sang on stormy nights — the voices of drowned women calling ships onto the rocks.
The Giant of Lligwy Cromlech — A field above the cove at Moelfre holds one of the most extraordinary Neolithic burial chambers in Britain — its enormous capstone, the people of Lligwy said, was lifted into place by a single giant, who sleeps beneath it still.
Trefignath — The Three Sisters of Stone — On a rocky knoll above Trearddur Bay stand the three linked chambers of Trefignath — Neolithic in fact, but in Holy Island tradition, three sisters petrified for dancing on the Sabbath.
The Tylwyth Teg of Menai — On calm, moonless nights the Menai Strait sometimes lights up with a string of pale lights moving low over the water — said to be the lanterns of the Fair Folk crossing from Eryri to Anglesey.
Santes Dwynwen of Llanddwyn — On a tidal islet off the great dune-system of Newborough Forest stands the ruined church of Dwynwen — the fifth-century Welsh princess whose broken heart made her the patron saint of lovers, and whose well still tells fortunes.
Bryn Celli Ddu — The Mound in the Dark Grove — On the longest day of the year the rising sun strikes through the passage of Bryn Celli Ddu and lights its inner chamber — the most precisely-aligned Neolithic tomb in Wales, and a doorway, in old Anglesey tradition, to the otherworld.
Ynys Seiriol — The Ghost Monks of Puffin Island — A small uninhabited island east of Anglesey, where the ruins of a sixth-century monastery still stand among the puffin burrows — and where, on still mornings, fishermen claim to hear the long-dead monks still singing the office.
Math fab Mathonwy — The Magician-King of Gwynedd — He could only live so long as his feet rested in the lap of a virgin — and when that broke, magic spilled across north Wales. Meet Math, the wizard-king at the heart of the Mabinogi's strangest branch.
Gwydion — Trickster-Magician of the Mabinogi — Storyteller, shape-shifter, and the most morally complicated figure in Welsh myth — Gwydion conjures Blodeuwedd from blossoms, raises Lleu under a curse, and lies his way into immortality.
Arianrhod and Caer Arianrhod — The Silver Wheel and the Drowned Fortress — She stepped over Math's wand to prove her virginity and gave birth to two boys on the spot. She cursed her own son three times. Her fortress lies under the sea off Dinas Dinlle — and her name is written in the Corona Borealis.
Ceridwen and the Cauldron of Awen — She brewed a year-long potion of inspiration for her ugly son — and a careless boy named Gwion Bach licked three drops from his thumb. The chase that followed gave Wales its greatest bard: Taliesin.
Pwyll and Rhiannon — The First Branch of the Mabinogi — She rode past his court three days running on a pale horse that no horse alive could catch — and only when he asked, plainly, did she stop. The First Branch of the Mabinogi is the strangest love story in Welsh literature.
Adar Rhiannon — The Birds That Wake the Dead — Their song wakes the dead and lulls the living to sleep. They seem to sing close at hand but are seven seas away. They are the strangest, gentlest miracle in the whole of Welsh myth.
Gwyn ap Nudd — King of Annwn and Lord of the Wild Hunt — He rides at the head of the Cŵn Annwn on winter nights, hollow inside Glastonbury Tor, antlered, faceless to most. Meet the original Welsh lord of the otherworld — and the master of every wild hunt since.
Cú Chulainn — The Hound of Ulster — He took a hound's name at seven, won his death-spear at seventeen, and held the ford against the armies of Connacht alone. Meet the most ferocious hero in Irish myth.
The Children of Lir — Nine Hundred Years as Swans — A jealous stepmother turned four children into swans for nine hundred years on the cold lakes of Ireland. By the time the spell broke, the old gods themselves were gone.
Fionn mac Cumhaill and the Giant's Causeway — He tore up the basalt of Antrim and threw it across the sea to make a road to Scotland — then outwitted a far larger giant by pretending to be his own baby. Meet Fionn mac Cumhaill.
The Dagda — Good God of the Tuatha Dé Danann — He owned a cauldron that no company ever left hungry, a club with a killing end and a healing end, and a harp that called the seasons to order. Meet the Dagda — the father-god of pagan Ireland.
Jörmungandr — The Midgard Serpent — Cast into the ocean by Odin, he grew so vast he could circle the world and bite his own tail — and on the day he lets go, Ragnarök begins.
Valkyries — Choosers of the Slain — They ride the storm above the battlefield, deciding which warriors fall and which are carried to Valhalla — the most beautiful and pitiless of all Norse spirits.
Quetzalcoatl — The Feathered Serpent — A serpent clothed in the iridescent green feathers of the quetzal bird — Quetzalcoatl is one of the oldest and most important gods of the Americas.
Rusalka — The River-Maiden of the Slavic Waters — Pale, green-haired, beautiful — the Rusalka rises from Slavic rivers on summer nights to dance with travellers and pull them under.
Llew Llaw Gyffes — The Bright One of the Mabinogi — Born of a curse, named by a trick, armed by a flower-wife — the Fourth Branch of the Mabinogi belongs to Llew, the fair-haired warrior with the steady hand.
Mari Lwyd — The Grey Mare at the Door — On the longest nights of the year, a beribboned horse skull comes to your door in South Wales — and if you cannot beat her in rhyme, you have to let her in.
Culhwch and Olwen — The Flower-Footed Maiden — White trefoil blooms where she walks. Her father is a giant who cannot let her marry. And to win her, a young hero must call on Arthur himself.
Gelert — The Faithful Hound of Beddgelert — A prince comes home from hunting to find his hound bloodied and his baby's cradle overturned. He draws his sword — and learns the truth too late.
The Green Man — Face in the Leaves — Peer up at the corbels of an old Welsh church and you may catch him watching back — a face of oak and ivy, older than the building itself.
Mythôn — Ungorn, the Unicorn — First of the five to wake. Ungorn is not naïve — it simply refuses to let the world talk it out of wonder.
Mythôn — Blaidd, the Wolf — Blaidd is the wolf that chose its own pack — fierce about the people it loves, and uninterested in anyone's permission.
Mythôn — Eirgawr, the Yeti — Eira means snow. Cawr means giant. Eirgawr is the quiet one of the five — the strength that doesn't need to announce itself.
Mythôn — Draig, the Dragon — The red dragon has guarded Wales for fifteen hundred years. Draig is its Mythôn kin — the fire you were told to keep quiet.
Mythôn — Ceffyl Dŵr, the Water Horse — The last of the five out of the mist. The Ceffyl Dŵr is Welsh through and through — beautiful, untameable, and entirely its own.
Taliesin — The Veiled Bard — A kitchen boy, a stolen spark of inspiration, a chase through every shape in the world — and a shining child in a coracle who out-sang a king's bards.
Pwca — The Trickster of the Welsh Lanes — A bobbing light on a dark lane, a horse where no horse should be, a bowl of milk left out just in case — meet the Pwca, Wales's own lantern-swinging trickster.
Derwen — The Veiled Tree of Life — Roots in Annwn, crown among the stars, mistletoe glinting in the branches — the sacred oak was the living axis of the druids' world, and Ynys Môn was its heartland.
Arawn — King of Annwn — A white stag, a pack of red-eared hounds, and a prince who should have known better — the First Branch of the Mabinogi begins with a year spent wearing a king's face.
The Witches of Llanddona — A boat with no oars and no rudder, drifting onto the sands below Llanddona — and the strangers inside it who became the most feared, and most tolerated, family on Ynys Môn.
Bwrdd Arthur — Arthur's Table on Ynys Môn — High above Red Wharf Bay, an Iron Age ring of limestone crowns a flat-topped hill. The maps call it Din Sylwy. The island has always called it Arthur's Table.
Aberffraw — Court of the Princes of Gwynedd — A quiet village by the dunes of south-west Môn was once the royal heart of Wales — the llys where Branwen was married and Llywelyn called himself Prince of Aberffraw.
The Mermaid of Cemlyn — On the wild north coast of Ynys Môn, a shingle ridge holds back the sea from a still lagoon — and the fishermen of Cemlyn tell of a môr-forwyn who watches from the water.
Manawydan fab Llŷr — The Patient Enchanter — A mist falls on Dyfed and every soul vanishes. The Third Branch of the Mabinogi belongs to Manawydan — the quiet craftsman who wins his land back with patience, a pair of hands, and one very unlucky mouse.
Lludd and Llefelys — The Three Plagues of Britain — An invisible people who hear every whisper, a scream on May Eve that makes women miscarry and rivers run dry, a king's feast that vanishes overnight — and the dragons buried in Eryri that Merlin would one day find.
Y Ladi Wen — The White Lady of Wales — She waits at stiles and castle gates, beside hidden treasure and lonely pools. Sometimes she warns, sometimes she begs, sometimes she simply watches — the Ladi Wen is Wales's most widespread ghost, and never quite the same twice.
Coblynau — Knockers of the Welsh Mines — Deep in the copper of Parys Mountain and the slate of Blaenau Ffestiniog, miners listened for a sound in the dark: tap, tap, tap. The Coblynau were working — and if you respected them, they might just save your life.
Rhita Gawr — The Giant of Yr Wyddfa — He shaved the kings of Britain and stitched their beards into a cloak. Then he asked for Arthur's. Welsh tradition says the highest mountain in Wales is the cairn raised over the giant who asked once too often.
Cadair Idris — The Giant's Chair — High above Dolgellau, a great hollow in the mountain is said to be the seat of Idris the giant, who sat there watching the stars. Spend one night on it, the old saying goes, and you come down a poet, a madman — or not at all.
Gwragedd Annwn — The Lake Maidens of Wales — Wales is full of lakes, and many of them have a woman in them. The Gwragedd Annwn rise from still water to marry mortal men, bringing wealth and magic cattle — and one rule that must never be broken.
The Gwyllion — Hags of the Welsh Mountain Mist — Up on the high moors, when the cloud comes down, you may find you are no longer walking alone. The Gwyllion keep pace with lost travellers — and lead them, very kindly, away from the path.
The Cailleach — Winter Queen of the Gaels — Veiled, blue-faced and older than the hills — because she made them. The Cailleach Bheur strides the Highlands with rocks spilling from her apron, washes her plaid in the whirlpool, and rules the dark half of the year.
Cat-Sìth — The Fairy Cat of the Highlands — It is black, as large as a dog, with a single white patch on its breast. And if it passes over a body before burial, the Highland tellings say, the soul goes with it. So the family keeps watch.
The Glaistig — Green Maiden of the Cattle Fold — A lovely woman in a long green dress stands at the byre door at dusk. Look at her hem: those are not feet. The Glaistig guards the cattle of the Highlands — as long as her milk is poured.
The Stoor Worm — Serpent of the Northern Sea — It was so long its body coiled around the world, and its breath withered the crops of Orkney. The king offered his daughter to any hero who could kill it. The one who did was a lazy ash-boy called Assipattle.
The Morrígan — Phantom Queen — She is a crow over the battlefield, a washer at the ford, a queen who chooses kings. The Morrígan is often called Ireland's war goddess — but war was only ever the edge of her power.
The Dullahan — Headless Rider of Ireland — A black horse on a dark lane. A rider with no head on his shoulders — because it is under his arm, grinning. The Dullahan stops at a door, speaks one name, and that person dies. Gold is the only thing that turns him.
Manannán mac Lir — Lord of the Sea-Mist — He rides the waves as if they were a plain, wears a cloak of mist that can hide whole islands, and carries treasures in a bag made of crane skin. Manannán mac Lir is the sea god of Ireland — and a close cousin of Wales's Manawydan.
Enbarr — The Wave-Walking Horse — Swifter than the naked cold wind of spring, the old tellings say. Enbarr, horse of the sea god Manannán, carries a rider over land and ocean alike — never tiring, never sinking, and never overtaken.
Dryads and Nymphs — Spirits of Tree and Spring — In Greek myth no tree grew without a soul inside it. The dryads lived and died with their oaks, and the nymphs of spring and river were kind to those who respected the water and cruel to those who didn't.
The Amber Creatures — Born in the Studio — Most of our stories are old ones. This one is ours. It tells how the Amber creatures came to be: drawn late at night in a little island studio, and lit from within by the last warm light of the day.
The Neon Menagerie — Born in the Studio — The Amber creatures keep the last light of the day. The Neon creatures keep the first light of the night. This is the story of how the unicorns and dragons in our studio learned to glow like a city skyline.
Cath Palug — The Monster Cat of Môn — One of the oldest monsters in Welsh literature lived on Ynys Môn: Cath Palug, the cat said to have devoured nine score warriors.
The Gwiber of Penmynydd — A local Anglesey legend tells of a winged serpent at Penmynydd and a prophecy that no hiding place could escape.