GENESIS - THE BEGINNING. Book 1

CHAPTER 3 ... Loki. Midgard

He had walked the streets of Cape Town for hours. The fresh air very different to Asgard's. Interesting smells. Hawkers and screaming seagulls. He couldn't get enough of the ocean and it felt like he drank a ton of seawater and still needed more. No wonder his son Jormungand* loved the oceans of the universe.

Slipping past Heimdall had been the most difficult part of the first stage of his plans. He had transformed into a mosquito and took flight over the bridge, but he had made a pit stop along the way that had almost cost him his life. If only he had eaten before the transformation, then he wouldn't have had to suck blood out of Heimdall's neck. It must have itched because Heimdall slapped the area where Loki sat sucking and nearly squashed him to a pulp. In the end, he had succeeded in passing unnoticed and entered Midgard. He had whiled away the time and looked at the sites worth seeing but Loki did not have time. He was in a hurry to have his revenge. The problem was how to make contact with a human without them keeling over from a heart attack.

On Midgard, the Aesir wore capes to make themselves invisible. They were only able to make contact when a human worshipped them by name or called upon a specific god for help or as a witness to some deed. This excluded the Valkyrie who, at times, were able to allow a chosen and still living warrior to catch a glimpse of them before he or she died. That warrior would then become an Einherjar.

This did not help Loki in any way and his plans lay dormant for want of devotion. He prowled the streets for days, then for weeks without contact. No one worshipped the Aesir gods.

Had Midgard changed so much in the five thousand years since last he was here? Granted the humans did not use swords or carry bow and arrows or get by on horse or cart as in the past. The horseless carriages fascinated him.

They did not reside in mud hovels these humans, or behind huge rock walls with large wooden gates to keep the enemy out. He gaped at the large residential buildings that housed the humans one upon the other like rabbits in a warren. He walked into smaller buildings large enough to house ten warriors or more in relative comfort and was surprised to see it occupied by four humans. Four humans. Two of them were infants. None saw him, none cared.

Surely, as in the past, there had to be one or two individuals that must call on HIM. Mostly they worshipped Freya or Thor or Odin and a myriad of other gods. It was seldom that they turned to him. There were always one or two although and for that reason he had cocked an ear into the ether and tried but heard nothing. None called his name and for that matter, none called for any of the other gods. We are forgotten, he thought. A smug smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. That should bother the bastards in Asgard to no end.

He walked from one place to another while changing into an eagle and a mouse. He ate when he was hungry and slept when tired. Mostly he cursed at the time wasted, the opportunities and people he could have used. Damn Odin and the unbreakable set of laws he had laid down for Midgard. His plans had temporarily come to a sudden halt and yet, there was something...He stopped as he realized that his train of thought had opened a door. He stared unseeingly at his surroundings as his whole attention focused on the ether. There were no calls for that upstart Thor, and none for any of the Aesir gods. Who was this lord Satan and Jesus, Shiva and Father and God? There were many more in other languages but he had no time to try to translate although he noticed that Mohammed and Allah were also prominent.

Had the humans changed the god's names? Still worshiped the Aesir but their names had changed through the ages. Then understanding flashed like a bulb. No, he remembered now. There had been talk of a human the Aesir called Jesus or Christ. No. He frowned in thought. The white Christ or the human god. The one God. That's it. The Aesir mocked this new god by calling him the One God and sometimes the white Christ. Well as far as he could remember, the one God got himself strung up on a wooden scaffolding for his pains. So much for that. Yet they still worshiped him, a human. How odd. He cocked his head as a shout of ecstasy reverberated through the ether. Following the ethereal trace of that otherworldly shout, he realized that its origins were close. Very close. The air shimmered and an eagle took flight. A young father walking passed the spot held his wide-eyed son who seemed to be staring off into nothing with a wondrous smile on his face. Perhaps he had seen something, and then again, to small children, anything and everything is worth special attention.