The first voice on the planet Ode was the whispering of the lonely wind. The wind’s loneliness vanished when the banshee was born from soil, fire and water. A female spirit, she rode with the wind as a green mist on his back. The all-knowing wind murmured into the banshee’s ear, caressing her hair, sharing all of life’s mysteries with her. She would become the messenger of the wind, forewarning Mt. Grieg’s trolls of approaching evil.
Silhouetted against planet Ode’s night sky, the towering peaks of Mt. Grieg appeared as windowless cathedrals reaching upwards into endless black. On this particular night, the black was darker than usual. Winds blew across the peaks; rain glistened on the crystals and veins of gold laced within the granite. Bolts of lightning splintered across the sky, revealing images of spirits carved into stone by trolls of a time long past. Rumbling thunder, excited by the lightning’s boldness, sprinted over the mountain’s jagged pinnacles.
Odin, a young mountain troll living on Mt. Grieg, had spent his day working in the woods. Every evening, when the curtain of darkness fell, he retired into his cave. After enjoying his meal in front of a crackling fire, he surrendered to deep sleep. But on this night, he dreamed of faces with twisted mouths desperately trying to speak. Drowning in the sea of faces, and fighting to stay afloat, sudden explosions of thunder released him from his fitful sleep. Odin lay restless in his warm bed of straw, trying to bring back the distorted faces and understand their message.
Deafening groans of thunder circled the pinnacles and took control of the night, shaking Odin’s cave to the very core. Alarmed by the storm’s violent temper, the mountain troll jumped out of his bed and pulled on his trousers. Electricity in the air made his skin hot and prickly and the bitter odor of ozone stung his nose. His long legs held just a slight quiver as he searched every crevice of his tunneled cave. He could not understand why his sister Laelia was not there, nor his cricket friend, Punga.
Shouting for Punga, he heard a small voice and felt the little cricket shivering but safely hidden in his favorite refuge—Odin’s red beard. In spite of the terror caused by the fierce storm, he laughed at himself for not first looking for Punga in his whiskers.
Cowering in a corner of the cave, they both hoped to escape the fury of the storm. The booming thunder outside was so loud that the young troll feared planet Ode had cracked open, its ruptured crevices swallowing them. Odin worried that the storm would release the boulders far above to tumble down and block the mouth of their cave.
It seemed as if the wind’s soul had slipped into his home, screaming throughout the cave, its shrill voice akin to the cry of a lost baby troll. Cold fingers crept into his chest and wrapped their chill around his heart. His strong tail moved back and forth with an uncontrollable nervous twitch. Concern for Laelia pushed all other thoughts aside. Maybe she had taken shelter in another friendly mountain troll’s cave.
The warmth and light from remnants of the cooking fire burning in the middle of the cave flickered off the tapestry of crystals embedded in the massive granite wall. Blushes of blue, purple and green created a dance of light that gave Odin a strange sense of calm.
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A stifling hush settled in the cave. It was not serene but heavy with tension, ready to explode. To Odin, all life on Mt. Grieg seemed to have disappeared. Spellbound, he and Punga watched a green mist roll into the opening of their cave, as if ushered in by the threatening wind. The mist pulsated with life, swelling into the form of an exquisite female. Draped over her body was a green cloak that dripped rain as it clung to her long legs. A hood shadowed her face. Without warning, a gust of wind blew the hood away exposing the beauty of a proud face with burning emerald green eyes. Wet black hair tumbled down and caressed her skin. Her face, so pale and transparent, glowed like white glass.
Compassionate eyes stared at Odin as he huddled in the corner of the cave. When he managed to look into her eyes, he was surprised to feel a surge of courage; did he know this apparition from some distant time? Surely she was the banshee, the spirit who lived with the wind. Stunned by her striking beauty, Odin found the banshee’s presence riveting. Her young face seemed in sharp contrast to how ancient she really was. For thousands of years planet Ode had been her home, where she lived in harmony with its wild, ever- changing winds.
The banshee’s green eyes darkened to gray as a solemn mood crossed over them. Odin watched as her bewitching face transformed into grim wrinkles; she laughed at him with one eye and cried for him with the other. Suffocating silence shattered like a dropped mirror as she spoke. Her soothing voice at first left her throat as a soft moan and then, as if in song, escalated into a high-pitched wail. The banshee’s cold red lips announced, “Zote, the most sinister of trolls, has kidnapped Laelia.” Whispering winds mimicked and echoed her voice as they rolled and swelled within the cave.
Clinging to the banshee’s shoulder, its talons nestled in her thick cape, was a gray owl, the phantom of the mountain’s boreal woods. The irises of the owl’s eyes shone lemon yellow as he stared at Odin. In his beak, he carried a note.
Punga, watching from his vantage point, was certain the owl was also watching him, possibly sizing him up for a quick meal. He scurried with his six legs deeper into Odin’s whiskers.
With a single swoop of his wings, the owl flew from the banshee’s shoulder and delivered the note to Odin. As soon as the owl returned to her shoulder, flashes of lightning accompanied by roars of thunder broke into the cave and chased the whispers away. Convulsing air sent the wind’s primordial cry once again echoing throughout Mt. Grieg. A raging wind blew into the cave and swept up the banshee. Screams escaped her throat as her body vaporized into a green mist. Just as suddenly as it began, the storm ceased and the banshee disappeared into the night.
Now Odin and Punga were again alone in their cave. The two friends looked with anguish at the note delivered by the great owl. Unfolding the note, they saw words scribbled by the bog troll, Zote. He was demanding the ancestral right to Mt. Grieg and holding Laelia for ransom. Once Odin gave him a note turning the mountain and its wealth over to him, Zote would return Laelia.
Standing still and emotionally exhausted, Odin picked up a scent hovering in the cave. The banshee’s warm breath had left the essence of the jasmine flower. This fragrance unleashed memories of his mother. Odin sensed her spirit was somewhere in the cave watching him. Since the tragic death of their parents, he alone was the protector of his sister. Overwhelmed with the task before him, crippling fear seized his body. He was in a nightmare from which there seemed no escape.
Dawn came quickly and, with it, the realization that his sister would not return home. In his stupor, Odin bent down and stumbled out of the mouth of the cave. Silently he stood, surprised and confused, as he could no longer see the patterns of green and the pomegranate red of the meadow flowers. The early morning light appeared gray. In his despair, life seemed to have lost its color. Odin turned to Punga, the little Jerusalem cricket, for his wisdom.