From Huginn and Muninn to the Raven Trilogy: Memory & Thought.
- Cassandra Roman

- 26. Dez. 2025
- 3 Min. Lesezeit
In Norse mythology, Odin’s ravens Huginn and Muninn fly across the world each day, gathering thought and memory before returning to whisper their knowledge into the god’s ear. These ancient symbols of consciousness and remembrance form the mythological backbone of the Raven Trilogy—and shape everything Sam and Marasco are forced to become.

The Ravens of Odin: Thought and Memory
Huginn and Muninn are more than Odin’s companions. Their names translate to Thought and Memory, and their role is clear: they observe the world, absorb what happens within it, and report back. Odin depends on them—and fears losing them—because without thought and memory, even a god is blind.
That idea stayed with me.
When I began writing the Raven Trilogy, I didn’t simply want ravens as symbols or decoration. I wanted to explore what happens when thought and memory are embodied as human beings—when they can suffer, resist, and break.
Sam and Marasco as Modern Ravens
In the Raven Trilogy, Sam and Marasco are, in many ways, my Huginn and Muninn.
Sam is a seer. He can see the memories of others, absorb them, and carry them within himself. He becomes a vessel for the past—burdened by experiences that are not his own, yet impossible to ignore. Memory, after all, is not passive. It shapes identity, guilt, compassion, and pain.
Marasco, by contrast, has lost his memories entirely. He exists only in the present moment. What remains is thought—raw, immediate, unanchored by history. He reacts, survives, and questions without the comfort or weight of a past that might explain him.
Together, they form two halves of a whole: memory and thought, past and present, reflection and instinct.
Memory, Thought, and Identity
One of the central questions of the Raven Trilogy is this: Who are we without our memories—and who are we when we cannot escape them?
Memory gives meaning, but it also imprisons. Thought allows freedom, but it can be directionless without context. Sam and Marasco are defined not only by what they possess or lack, but by how those states shape their choices, their relationships, and their capacity to resist control.
The theme of memory and thought runs through every layer of the trilogy—from character arcs to worldbuilding—because identity is never singular. It is formed in the tension between what we remember and what we dare to think.
From Odin’s Ravens to Enslaved Messengers
In Norse mythology, Huginn and Muninn serve Odin willingly—or at least unquestioningly. They are his eyes, his informants, his tools.
In the Raven Trilogy, this idea is deliberately twisted.
Sam and Marasco are not just ravens—they are chained ones. Instrumentalized by a mage who uses them as weapons, messengers, and means to an end, they slowly become aware of their captivity. What begins as duty turns into exploitation. What feels like purpose reveals itself as control.
The core of the trilogy is not obedience, but awakening.
Breaking the Chains in the Raven Trilogy
At its heart, the Raven Trilogy is about consciousness. About recognizing the chains placed upon you—by gods, by systems, by trauma, by memory itself—and deciding whether you are willing to live with them.
Sam and Marasco are not heroes because they are powerful. They are heroes because they question the role assigned to them. Like Huginn and Muninn, they were meant to observe and report. Instead, they choose to resist.
And in doing so, they ask a final question that runs through the entire trilogy:
What happens when thought and memory stop serving—and start choosing?
Join Sam and Marasco on their journey in The Hunters of the North.


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