Where Does Nordic Mythology Place The Nine Worlds Geographically?

I like to think of the nine worlds as a layered cosmography rather than a strict geography; in many of the medieval sources the layout is more metaphorical than cartographic. Reading 'Prose Edda' alongside fragments from the 'Poetic Edda' shows a tree-centered model: Asgard is commonly placed 'up' with the other divine and aerial realms, Midgard occupies the middle band where humans live, and several realms lie 'below' or at the roots. The text mentions three great roots of Yggdrasil that reach to different wells — Urðr's well near Asgard, Mímir's well under a root toward the giant-lands, and Hvergelmir associated with Niflheim — which gives a vertical axis to the layout.

At the same time, the lists of the nine worlds vary between sources and scribes. Some lists separate Svartálfaheim and Niðavellir as distinct, others conflate Niflheim with the underworldly Niflhel, and 'Vanaheim' often slips around in the upper zones. Practically, I map them like this in my head: heavenly/upper realms (Asgard, Álfheim, Vanaheim), middle world (Midgard), peripheral/wild realms (Jötunheim), subterranean/underworlds (Hel, Niflheim, Svartálfaheim/Niðavellir), and Muspelheim as a southern/fire domain. That model helps when I toy with reimagining myth scenes or building tabletop maps, but I always keep a margin for contradictions — the Norse cosmos is as much poetic landscape as it is a fixed atlas.

On chilly nights when I read sagas by lamplight, I picture the nine worlds wrapped around Yggdrasil like stages on a cosmic theater. There's a clear verticality to the tradition: loftier realms above (Asgard for the Æsir, Álfheim for light-elves, sometimes Vanaheim), Midgard in the middle where humans live, and darker or more elemental worlds toward the roots and edges. Jötunheim is out on the wild perimeter — mountains, forests, and rivers separating it from human lands — while the under-realms (Hel, parts of Niflheim, and the dwarves' halls called Svartálfaheim or Niðavellir) sit below, threaded by the tree’s roots.

I like to remember that 'Múspellsheimr' contrasts them all with fire: it's often depicted as a southern or underfiery realm, the heat-counterpart to the cold mists of Niflheim. The medieval poets and Snorri's compilations don't give a single, neat map — they give you images, wells, roots, and bridges to stitch together — so I rely on those images more than precise coordinates. It feels alive that way, and whenever I sketch a map for a story or a game, I leave some blank spaces for mischief and giants to wander into.

If you picture Yggdrasil as a living map, it's easiest for me to imagine the nine worlds arranged like ornaments and roots around one immense, world-tree. Up above, on the high branches, sits 'Asgard' — the home of the Æsir gods — connected to the human middle-world by the shimmering rainbow bridge Bifröst. Nearby in that higher region you often find 'Álfheim', the bright realm of the light-elves, and sometimes 'Vanaheim', the less clearly located home of the Vanir; the sources aren't always consistent about exactly how close Vanaheim is to Asgard, but it's usually portrayed in the upper or upper-middle cosmic zones. I love picturing the gods hanging out in halls among stars while Midgard sits below, ringed by sea and tied to the tree by Yggdrasil’s trunk.

Midgard — our human world — occupies the middle of the tree. Surrounding it or off to one side is 'Jötunheim', the wild, mountainous land of giants, often reached by crossing cold rivers and rough landscapes. At the tree's roots and underworld areas are darker places: 'Hel' (the realm ruled by Hel) and 'Niflheim', a cold, misty domain; these are usually described as down toward the roots. Conversely, 'Múspellsheimr' (Muspelheim) blazes in the south or under the tree as the realm of fire and Surt. Then there are the subterranean smithing and craft realms — 'Svartálfaheim' or 'Niðavellir' — homes of dwarves/black-elves, often placed among the roots or under the earth.

I keep coming back to the sources like 'Poetic Edda' and 'Prose Edda' because they map the places differently at times. The important mental image for me is verticality: sky realms, a middle human plane, and down-below realms connected by Yggdrasil’s roots and wells like Urðarbrunnr and Mímisbrunnr. It's less a neat globe and more a living, layered cosmos — messy, poetic, and full of overlapping stories that invite you to wander.