Through long night spent before the fire with my companions on the Isle of the Crown, I learned that the Green Islanders are famous story-weavers. To me, nothing speaks more of a people than the tales they tell, for they are woven with the fears, the hopes and the dreams of the culture. For your enlightenment and entertainment, I set forth some of the most interesting of these legends and myths here.
Hidden Islands and Other Worlds:
Every land has its tales of hidden places: lost caverns, underground treasure rooms, and secret kingdom accessible only through some ancient oak tree. The Land of the Green Isles is no exception. Here, as might be imagined, the hidden places take the form of islands hidden in the mists and of what might lie beyond in the sea.
One popular tale seems to reflect the universal myths of harvest and planting. It is said that nearby exists a hidden island of priestly inhabitants who worship Mother Earth. These priests keep the weather and the tides in balance to ensure safety from hurricanes and other forces of the sea and to plead continuance for the kingdom's bounty. It is said that these priests demand privacy above all and that they remain loyal to the Crown in exchange for secrecy. What a wonderfully conspiratorial tale!
The Green Islanders are also fond of saying that the unpassable currents in the seas around the kingdom are there as a warning -- to keep all ships from sailing further east. For it is believed that within a day's sail in that direction, a ship strong enough and foolhardy enough to survive the tempest seas would encounter the edge of the world!
"What lies beyond the edge of the world?" I asked. "Why, the next world," they replied, and with fearful glances at one another, quickly changed the subject.
Death Traditions:
Death fascinates men the world round, and there are as many philosophies about what comes after this life as there are, it seems, lives which end. I found the Green Islanders to all share a common belief, so strongly held as to seem to defy questioning.
The family of the deceased holds funeral ceremonies a few days after the death to bid the soul of their loved one safe passage to the Realm of the Dead. The deceased is buried with the things he or she will need for the journey.
The Realm of the Dead is a place not of this world. There Death himself rules. Some call him The Lord of the Dead, others call him Samhain. Those souls who have died at peace with their lives are allowed to enter the Underground and are placed in the Sea of Souls. In that safe repository, they are greeted by ultimate knowledge and are prepared for the next stage. Those souls, however, who died with unresolved trauma in their human lives cannot enter the Underworld, but are consigned to wander endlessly on the surface of the Realm, chained there by their human woes. Sometimes, their life's problems will be resolved in the real world without them -- justice meted out, or loved ones taken care of -- and they are freed from their bonds and gratefully go below. More often, however, things are never resolved in the real world and the bonded souls, over time, become part of the mindless dead that roam the surface eternally, never to know peace of be allowed to move on.
This belief system deeply affects the lives of the Green Islanders, and is, in my estimation, the root of their peaceful lives and their aversion for friction and infighting, greed and anxiety. Certainly, as a man or woman approaches old age or infirmity, he or she strives to resolve any loose ends in their lives in preparation for the journey ahead.
Genies:
In Daventry, the poor man's idea of a great tale involved a poor farmer falling in with a fairy and thus gaining a fortune overnight. How many wild-eyed dreamers have spent their days searching out such instant prosperity instead of buckling down and taking the long road to that end? Hah! It is a tale this wanderer has heard all too often!
Here in the Land of the Green Isles there are no fewer dreamers, but they speak not of fairies but of the djinn, of genies. A genie is an even greater temptation for the aspiring soul than even a Daventry fairy, for a genie does not simply turn a one-time favour, however great, and then be done with it. No, a genie, like a faithful dog, belongs to its owner for life -- or, that is, for however long the fortunate "master" might keep hold of the creature's lamp.
It seems Green Islander knows the ins and outs of the djinn, though few have ever seen one. According to the stated "rules", each genie is immortal and each is permanently attached to a given lamp in which they might or might not be trapped for long centuries depending on the whims of their owner or fate. Once the lamp comes into the possession of a man or woman, that person becomes the genie's master and must be obeyed. Genies are very valuable creatures and can do a variety of tricks including transporting a man anywhere on earth, taking any shape the master might wish, and, of course, the ever-popular gathering of great treasures and wealth. A genie does have some limitations, however; it cannot cure ills, change the weather, or bring back the dead. And a genie always has a weakness.
A genie is also bound to its master in other ways. It is said that a genie is like a mirror; it only reflects its master's will. If a master is evil-minded and cruel, the genie will be also. If a master is generous and kind, so will be the genie.
One of the most popular genie stories is the following one about a genie named Mali Mellin.
The Story of Mali Mellin
Mali Mellin was a genie with a terrible weakness for mistletoe berries (although hte same are poisonous to humans). He had been trapped for a few thousand years in a crusty old lamp after being buried with his possessive master. One day a poor farmer uncovered the lamp while plowing a field. The farmer, being ignorant, took the lamp at once to his wife, and see, being no more intelligent than he, cleaned the outside brusquely without ever opening the lid. The pair took the lamp to market to seel for a few pence.
The lamp was purchased by an antiquities dealer who, being equally lazy, never bothered to open the thing. (This tale continues on in this manner, passing through a dozen or so hands, much to the increased hilarity of the local listeners, who seem to find this the largest joke they ever heard. But to move on ... ) Finally the lamp was purchased by a poor maiden named Daltina, who desired only a little warmth and light for her ailing mother. Daltina took the lamp home and opened it at once, in order to fill it with oil and a wick. But instead of dust, a cloud of smoke issued forth from the opened lamp and Mali Mellin appeared. The girl was overcome with fear, but Mali Mellin finally persuaded the poor thing that she was in no danger, and, indeed, could now have anything she wished.
In the next few months, Daltina and her mother went from being poor, sickly outcasts to being well-to-do. Their poor house became a fine mansion and their garden blossomed. The girl, with the flush of prosperity in her cheeks, grew more beautiful by the day. Mali Mellin, of course, was furnished with all the mistletoe berries he could eat. But on one thing Daltina followed the advice of her mother: "Never tell anyone of the lamp," she warned, "for we are but two lone women in the world and would be no match for those who would wish to steal our treasure."
Several years passed this way, and Daltina was content. Every night Mali Mellin would ask her; "What more do you wish?" and Daltina would reply "Nothing. I have all that I want." Then, one day, a procession rode through the village. Riding at the head was a Prince, the most handsome man that the girl had ever seen.
That night, Mali Mellin asked "What more do you wish?" The girl was silent for a moment, thinking "Who am I to wish such a thing?" and "He should marry a princess." But her heart, never before touched, clamoured too loudly for her to hear her own wisdom and so she whispered, "I wish for the Prince."
The next day the prince rode back to the village with haunted eyes. He had seen the girl in a dream and was sick with love. Within weeks, the two were married.
But the Prince was not as good as he appeared. He wanted things: more wealth, more land, more of everything. When he mooned about for these things, the girl felt pity in her love and would in secret go to her lamp and call forth Mali Mellin to achieve her love's desires.
At first, the prince was amazed at his wife's powers and intuition. After a time, however, the prince grew suspicious of his wife's seemingly magical abilities. One night, he lamented long about a certain gold sword he must have that hung in a nearby castle. He pretended to go to sleep and heard Daltina slip out. In silence, he followed her down a corridor to her mother's room and there spied upon her as she called forth Mali Mellin from the lamp and offering it some pretty mistletoe, asked her boon.
"Mali Mellin," Daltina said, "There is a sword of gold ten leagues from here. Have it delivered to my husband in the morning as a gift of tribute." To which, Mali Mellin replied, "Yes, Master."
The next morning, a courier arrived with the sword, just as Mali Mellin had promised.
"How marvellous," the prince thought, "to have a wife with such a powerful genie!" Then he thought, "How much more marvellous to possess the genie myself!"
And so, that very night, the prince waited until Daltina slept, then snuck into his mother-in-law's chambers and removed the lamp from the trunk as he had seen his wife do. Seized with excitement, he hastened to his armory and pulled the lid from the lamp. Mali Mellin appeared.
"Yes, Master," the genie twittered, with a new malicious grin on its face. "You are MY genie now," said the prince, "And shall do only as I wish." "Of course, Master," said Mali Mellin, "But how about some mistletoe?"
The next day, the girl awoke to find the prince in possession of the lamp. Despite her pleadings, that she be allowed to control the dangerous creature, the prince refused to give it back.
And, oh, what the prince did with that lamp! Whereas before, the girl had indulged his desires conservatively, the prince with the lamp knew no bounds. He kept Mali Mellin rushing to fulfill his wishes until the rooms of the castle were heaping with gold and jewels. His enemies lay slaughtered on the fields without provocation. Mali Mellin's wicked face now became like a demon's in the land, a demon who stole and laid scourge to everything.
Finally, the girl could stand no more. The flame of her love for the prince was doused by bitter tears. One night, she drugged the prince's wine and, when he fell into a deep sleep, took the lamp from his grasp. She called forth the genie once more, and, sadly, had Mali Mellin carry the prince off to a distant and deserted land where he could trouble no-one ever again. With the prince gone and Mali Mellin back to his good-natured self, Daltina restored the broken land and reigned as a benign (if rather melancholy) queen for many years thereafter -- reaping, always, plentiful harvests of mistletoe.
