#the dead

I don’t hold to the idea that the Fair Folk are simply deified human ancestors, nor that they are wholly unrelated to humanity.

Anglo-Celtic folklore repeatedly places the Fae in an intermediate condition—not gods, not ghosts, but a people who overlap the human dead in certain states. Across Anglo-Celtic cultures, you see three consistent threads:

1) The mound is both a fairy dwelling and a grave.

Barrows, cairns, and tumuli are simultaneously síde (fairy hills) and burial places. The dead are placed into the earth, yet afterward lights move there, music is heard, and riders emerge in procession. The living do not say “a ghost came out of the grave”—they say the hill opened.

This implies not haunting but continuation. The person buried does not linger as a shade—they enter a community.

2) The "Faerie Host" often behaves like the dead in the context of mythic pattern.

Night rides, the Wild Hunt, the Sluagh, and the procession of the Good People resemble funerary retinues for a reason. They travel in companies, keep ranks, carry torches, and move along old roads and boundaries—exactly the paths of funeral passage. Encounters are often said to leave witnesses weak, drained, or “taken,” which even mirrors the old belief that the dead draw vitality from the living. Likewise, in several traditions, the newly dead may be seen riding among the Fae within a year of burial.

This similarity to human funerary practices may very well stem from human attempts to understand, mimic, and appease the otherworld, but they may also represent a vestigial continuance of human practices within ranks of fae spirits that once were, but are no longer, human.

3) “Elf” historically overlaps with “the powerful dead.”

In early English usage ælf was not a tiny glittering being, but an unseen causing spirit—responsible for illness, trance, inspiration, and beauty beyond human measure. In Norse belief, burial mounds of notable men became sites of cult, and the dead within were called elves (álfar). Offerings were given to them seasonally as one would to land spirits.

So rather than “humans become gods,” the pattern might be said to look more like this: While the ordinary dead rejoin with divinity, the restless dead become ghosts/wraiths, the settled dead become ancestral spirits, and the potent/integrated dead become elves.

In other words, some fair folk were once human, but not recently human—they have crossed a threshold of belonging to the Otherworld’s society. They are no longer tethered to their humanity, yet not primordial spirits either. They are the assimilated dead. This also explains why folklore insists both that fairies predate mankind and that humans can join them. The host is older than any one people, but continually receives members.

So I would say, the Fair Folk are not merely the deceased—but the dead are one of the ways the Fair Folk are populated. Certain humans, especially those buried in old ways, remembered ongoingly, or who were powerful in life, may enter that company. Beyond the sheer liminality of the sites, Faerie mounds being tied to burial sites is not coincidence; it is mechanism.

Traditional necromantic powders are often used in rituals for spirit communication, ancestor work, or baneful magic. Below is a standard recipe for a necromancer’s powder, which can be adapted based on your tradition and intent.

Needed:

• Bone Dust or Crushed Eggshells

• Graveyard Dirt

• Myrrh Resin

• Dittany of Crete

• Wormwood

• Black Salt

• Dragon’s Blood Resin

Instructions:

Grind all ingredients into a fine powder using a mortar and pestle. Charge the mixture under the moonlight, preferably during the Waning Moon for necromantic work. Store in a dark glass jar or a fabric sachet.

Uses:

• Sprinkle on an altar for spirit summoning or divination.

• Dust onto candles or ritual tools.

• Sprinkle in your/someone’s path to draw spirits close.

• Add to incense blends when performing necromantic rituals.