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Micro-fiction 096 – The Green Man (Myths series)

Release Date: 10/05/2021

Podcasts | These Fantastic Worlds

The tenth of Ten Norse Myths. Ragnarok, the Twilight of the Gods, the destruction of the worlds, the dramatic death duel of light and dark... Ragnarok. The end of the world had been prophesied from its beginning, and everyone across the world knew what to expect when Ragnarok fell upon them. For Ragnarok was the twilight of the gods, an end to the golden years of Asgard, an end to the palaces of delight, an end to the timeless world where nothing could interfere. It was the death of Balder that set the stage for the end of the world, and it was Loki’s crimes which laid in place the main...

109 - Norse Myths 09 - The Death of Baldur

Podcasts | These Fantastic Worlds

The ninth Norse Myth of ten, brings us to the death of Baldur, one of the most famous laments of Viking legend... The Death of Baldur. To Odin and Frigga were born twin sons as dissimilar in character and physical appearance as it was possible for two children to be. Hodur, god of darkness, was sombre, taciturn, and blind, like the obscurity of sin, which he was supposed to symbolise, while his brother Baldur, the beautiful, was worshipped as the pure and radiant god of innocence and light. From his snowy brow and golden locks seemed to radiate beams of sunshine which gladdened the hearts...

108 - Norse Myths 08 - The Story of the Volsungs

Podcasts | These Fantastic Worlds

This eighth Norse Myth of ten, tells of the dynasty of the Volsungs, the heroes of the North, the family of Sigurd, Sigmund and Sigi, born of Odin... The Heroes of the Volsungs. The story of the Volsungs begins with Sigi, a son of Odin, a powerful man, and generally respected, until he killed another man out of jealousy, the latter having slain more game when they were out hunting together. In consequence of this crime, Sigi was driven from his own land and declared an outlaw. But it seems that he had not entirely forfeited Odin’s favour, for the god now provided him with a well-equipped...

107 - Norse Myths 07 - The Sword of Tyr

Podcasts | These Fantastic Worlds

In this, the seventh Norse Myth of ten, the mighty sword of the Viking God Tyr grants victory and death in equal measure across great empires... Tyr’s Sword Carves Destiny and Victory. Tyr, Tiu, or Ziu was the son of Odin, and, according to different storytellers, his mother was Frigga, queen of the gods, or a beautiful giantess whose name is unknown, but who was a personification of the raging sea. He is the god of martial honour, and one of the twelve principal deities of Asgard. Although he appears to have had no special dwelling there, he was always welcome to Vingolf or Valhalla,...

106 - Norse Myths 06 - Heimdall

Podcasts | These Fantastic Worlds

This sixth Norse Myth is the tale of Heimdall, the Guardian of the Rainbow Bridge, his adventures with the people of Midgard, and his battle with Loki... Heimdall in Midgard. Heimdall was called the watchman of the gods, and he was distinguished by his role at the Bifrost bridge, which he had constructed from fire, air and water, which glowed as a rainbow in the sky. The Bifrost bridge was also called the Rainbow bridge, and it connected heaven with earth, ending just under the great tree Yggdrasill. *** The golden age of Asgard was one of such happiness that there was never any threat to...

105 - Norse Myths 05 - Loki

Podcasts | These Fantastic Worlds

This fifth Norse Myth is the last tale of Loki, not the charming, trickster of the Marvel Universe, but the dark God of the Vikings Age... The Legends of Loki. Besides the hideous giant Utgard-Loki, the personification of mischief and evil, whom Thor and his companions visited in Jötunheim, the ancient Northern nations had another type of sin, whom they called Loki also. In the beginning, Loki was merely the epitome of the hearth fire and of the spirit of life. At first a god, he gradually becomes “god and devil combined,” and ends in being held in general detestation as an exact...

104 - Norse Myths 04 - Thor

Podcasts | These Fantastic Worlds

The fourth of ten Norse myths tells of the story of the Thor and how he gained his hammer through the wicked machinations of the mischievous Loki. The Legend of Thor. Thor was one of the twelve principal deities of Asgard, and he lived in the splendid realm of Thrudvang, where he built a palace called Bilskirnir. Here he lived as god of thunder, and his name was invoked more than any other in the age of the Vikings. For Thor was the protector of the land, a fine figure of a man with glowing eyes, firm muscles, and a red beard that made him instantly recognizable. He became known across the...

103 - Norse Myths 03 - Tale of the Valkyrie

Podcasts | These Fantastic Worlds

The third of ten Norse myths tells of the story of the Valkyrie, Odin's shield maidens who bring the fallen heroes of battle to the everlasting rewards of Valhalla. The Valkyrs. Odin’s special attendants, the Valkyrs, or battle maidens, were either his daughters, like Brunhild, or the offspring of mortal kings, maidens who were privileged to remain immortal and invulnerable as long as they implicitly obeyed the god and remained virgins. They and their steeds were the personification of the clouds, their glittering weapons being the lightning flashes. The ancients imagined that they swept...

102 - Norse Myths 02 - Odin and Frigga

Podcasts | These Fantastic Worlds

The second of ten Norse myths tells of Odin and Frigga in Valhalla in Asgard, and their sons Thor, Balder and the first gods of the Vikings... Odin and Frigga in Asgard. Odin was the son of Bor, and the brother of Vili and Ve. He was the most supreme god of the Northern races and he brought great wisdom to his place at the helm of all gods. He was called Allfather, for all gods were said to have descended from him, and his esteemed seat was Asgard itself. He held a throne there, one in an exalted and prestigious position, and it served as a fine watchtower from which he could look over men...

101 - Norse Myths 01 - Creation

Podcasts | These Fantastic Worlds

The first of ten Norse myths that cover Odin, Loki, Thor and more, we begin, fittingly, with the creation of the universe as seen through the eyes of the Vikings... The Creation of the Universe. In the beginning, before there was anything at all, there was a nothingness that stretched as far as there was space. There was no sand, nor sea, no waves nor earth nor heavens. And that space was a void that called to be filled, for its emptiness echoed with a deep and frozen silence. So it was that a land sprung up within that silence, and it took the place of half the universe. It was a land...

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A tale of an ancient spirit, a ruined planet, of loss and grief, but hope renewed in the Green Man...

The Green Man.

I remember the berry. It has a greenish, red hue. I’m not sure what it is except a curious reminder of a world lost, of woodlands now consumed, of gardens destroyed by the searing summers and wretched freezing winters of the late 2060s.

It is my last day on earth. In my little home I host a small party of close friends, with those of my family still alive. I throw on the only clothes that remain unpacked, a weirdly green-themed ensemble that would suffice for my journey to the stars.

“A toast to the man in green,” Sam, my brother shouts, his eyes dark, but always knowing the right thing to say, gathering everyone around.

“Give him something to drink!” His wife Aliyah is tearful, but keeping everyone else lively.

“Okay, okay,” I hear myself submit to the pressure and grab a beer, make my final words, “Thank you for this surprise party H,” my neighbour and best friend leads the cheering, “no really!” and the groans, “I’m not actually going to say anything,” some cheers, “but I know I’m going to miss you all.” I feel the panic well through me, reaching up to my throat, choking, “you’ve been my life and soul for as long as I can remember. I’ll carry those memories forever.”

Out of the corner of my eye I had noticed the berry before everyone had arrived, its tiny, bold shape commanding me to register it from the other side of the room, on the corner in the middle of the bookcase, as I strode across to open the door and allow the first guests in.

Finally, as everyone leaves, dragging the levity and the life from my living room, I see the berry again at the edge of my perception and wonder what it is. It looks juicy and tempting, but it should not be there. No such object could exist in a land that had lost its natural world, its forests and its meadows, its connections with our ancient past. I wander over, look at it sideways and pick it up gently, turning it between my finger and thumb, rolling it, feeling its succulent resistance.

A sense of loss overwhelmed me.
I stagger back and close my eyes.
And all around, the trees now lost,
Draining life into the soft moss,
Rear up, the dappled light playing
With the gentle greens all around,
And voices of pain, deep within,
Emerge distressed, waning, so thin.

I sense a command, an entreaty at least and feeling hollow at the thought of leaving my family, my friends, my planet, the red berry appears like a final connection with my world.

And so I place it in my mouth
And crush it slowly with my teeth;
Its tiny juices seep under
My tongue to reveal a wonder,
A vast breath that flows within me
As I watch a figure wading
Through the woodland, gently parting
Leaves and boughs, to sigh a greeting.

My body responds with a surge of fear that bursts my eyes open and I stand for a moment, breathless, trying to clear my head of these entrails of vision. A few moments past, I think, but I’m able to go to the bedroom and pick up my travel cases, hauling them to the front door, ready for the midnight pick-up that would take me to the next station in my life.

I wait at the open door, and seeing the descending lights from the heli-craft I turn for a last look at my home, it’s wooden beams, the only ones left in the town, reflecting the light back at me, revealing their ancient imperfections.

The heli-craft lands, its silent night engines pulsing at the air, casting dust and dirt all around. I rush towards it, half closing my eyes, thinking of the journey ahead, the years of cryo-sleep, the terra-forming mission which I had volunteered for so many years ago. And as we lift away I see my house, casting its own shadow, creating its memorial to my earthly life. I close my eyes.

In that moment a voice rises,
Caught in the wind of departure,
Wafted up from the distant past,
A dry and thirsty rasp, yearning
For an age when renewal rang
With the seasons and sang anew,
But withering now, passing all
Into memory, where all must fall.

***

I remember the berry. The bold shape and the delicious, forbidden taste of a past that has been sundered by humankind. The terraforming mission to the outer rim of the solar system, to the newly discovered exoplanets is a last chance for us to understand our past, to recreate the Earth of old, to learn from our mistakes.

We emerge from the chrysalis of our cyro-sleep and proceed. We unfurl our great machines into the skies, first to control the weather and accelerate the minerals in the atmosphere, then we inflate the oxygen production. We harness vast artificial light reflectors to magnify the beneficence of a sun far distant across the solar system. Next we will land to complete the re-fashioning of this New Earth

***

I remember the berry. The bitter fragrance of old life that skittered through my nostrils as I ground the liquid from its skin, the warm stream that eased into my throat, threading down into the chambers of my stomach.

Whenever I close my eyes, the feeling consumes me, as I consume it, as though I am the berry, as though I am consuming myself, my life juices seeping into the stomach of a new world.

And so it is with hope, it clings
To hidden truths, secret fissures,
And so too I feel the bruising
Across my soul, the ache of grief,
The loss that oozes from the skin,
But I am surrounded now by
Soft greens and dappled shadows too,
No mere visions these, here hope grows.

***

I remember the berry. It was a perfect, plump hawthorn berry, the last of its kind on old earth, and I carried its life, its spirit with me to this new land. I remember the grief of parting, the loss of my fellows, my friends, my family, but now, here, there are blooms of new life, and no need to keep them closed I open my eyes.

Now I am The Green Man. I remember the thousands of years of old earth, and now in this new land the seasons begin again and life is renewed once more.

[End]

Part of a new series of micro-fiction stories, released as These Fantastic Worlds SF & Fantasy Fiction Podcast on iTunes, Apple Podcasts, Google Play, Spotify, Vurbl and Stitcher and more. Also on this blog, These Fantastic Worlds.

More Tales, More Audio

There are many other great stories in this series, including:

And a carousel of 10 audio stories from the podcast with information about submissions.

Here's a related post, 5 Steps to the SF and Fantasy Podcasts.

The Green Man.

More Tales, More Audio

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