THE WYRD JOURNAL

Bindrunes and How to Make Your Own

· 5 min read

A bindrune is what you get when two or more runes share a stave. The lines overlap, the glyphs fuse, and a new sigil emerges that carries the meaning of each rune at once. Modern practitioners use bindrunes for protection, for focus on a working, for the slow magic of carrying an intention in something you wear. The form is striking and the practice feels ancient. The history is more uneven than that.

WHAT THE INSCRIPTIONS ACTUALLY SHOW

Genuine Viking-age bindrunes exist, but most of the inscriptions we have are alphabetic — scratched names, ownership marks, brief invocations. The famous Tussevegg inscription in Norway carries what looks like a bindrune, and a handful of medieval rune sticks combine glyphs in ways that may have been mnemonic, magical, or simply economical with carving space. We cannot always tell which. The Anglo-Saxon and continental rune corpus shows occasional fused forms as well.

What the inscriptions do not show, in any quantity, is the elaborate sigil-craft that modern bindrune guides describe. The dense, symmetrical sigils with intent worked into every stroke are largely a 20th-century reconstruction, drawing inspiration from the much later Icelandic galdrastafir — the staves of the post-medieval Galdrabók and related manuscripts. Those are real, beautiful, and ritually rich. They are also several centuries downstream of the Elder Futhark.

None of this discredits the modern practice. Folk traditions evolve. A bindrune made today, with care, carries the maker's intent. But it is worth knowing that the tradition you are joining is mostly modern, with deep roots into older Icelandic magic and shallower roots into the Viking age proper.

HOW TO MAKE ONE

Begin with intent. A bindrune is a focused working, not a general decoration — the act of choosing what it is for is the first half of the craft. Phrase the intent narrowly. Not 'good luck' but 'safe travel to the coast and back.' Not 'love' but 'the ease of speaking honestly to my partner.' The narrower the intent, the cleaner the bindrune.

Then choose two to four runes that speak to that intent. Two is often enough; four is usually the upper limit before the sigil becomes visually muddy. For safe travel: Raidho (the journey) and Algiz (protection). For honest speech: Ansuz (the word) and Gebo (the gift, the exchange). The runes should feel like a sentence, not a pile.

Sketch them on paper, then look for shared strokes. Most Elder Futhark runes have a vertical stave; that vertical can become the spine of the bindrune. Rotate, reflect, and overlap the side-strokes until the sigil reads as one figure. A good bindrune is recognizable as its component runes if you know to look, and abstract if you don't.

WHAT TO DO WITH THE FINISHED BINDRUNE

Practice varies. Some wear the bindrune as a pendant or ink it onto a small piece of wood carried in a pocket. Some draw it on paper, focus on the intent, and burn the paper. Some inscribe it onto a tool — a knife handle, a journal cover — that they use in the working it is meant to support. None of these is more correct than another. The point is that the bindrune is not the working; it is a focus for the working. You still have to do the thing.

If you cast regularly, a bindrune can also serve as a kind of question-marker. Carry one shaped for a working you are in the middle of, and let the runes you cast read against that focus. The oracle's interpretation of a cast will not change, but yours will.

A final note. The runes have a long history of being claimed by movements that have no right to them. A bindrune is just a tool, and like any tool it belongs to whoever picks it up with care. Make yours, wear it, change it when the working ends. The craft is yours.

RELATED ESSAYS

Reading Reversed Runes (or Why Some Casters Don't)Half of every cast lands upside down. Some traditions read those runes as shadowed; others read every rune upright. The history is messier than either side usually admits.Odin's Sacrifice: How the Runes Were WonNine nights on a windswept tree, pierced by his own spear, with neither food nor drink. The myth of how Odin won the runes is not a fortune-telling story. It is a story about the price of knowing.

Return to The Wyrd Journal, or try a rune cast and see what the runes have to say.