The Cult
No cult of Bragi is attested, and the evidence that would ground one — sanctuaries, votives, theophoric place-names — is exactly where the record falls silent. What the sources give instead is one custom his name never left: the bragarfull, the 'foremost cup' of the vow-toast, which Ynglinga saga sets at the great inheritance feasts, where a son swears his oaths over the cup before the assembled kin — the one rite in the corpus where a god's name is the rite itself. The skaldic profession that clustered around him is the social reality the god personifies: court poets praising kings, the poem as the contract between a ruler and his fame. It left no altars because it needed none; its monument is the verse that survives. The welcome he speaks over dead kings in the court poems is the theology of that world — eloquence as the reception committee of the afterlife. Modern heathen sumbel, which still hails Bragi before the boasting rounds, revives the toast rather than any temple tradition.


