Kinard Mythology Anthology
By 6th Grade Students at Kinard Middle School
Blaze: The Origin of the Eclipse, Day, and Night
By Audrey M.
The Heliades were a paradise lover’s dream. Lively, lush rain forests littered the Lands of the South along with stunning white sand beaches and glistening, turquoise blue waters that were impossible to ignore. The fragrance of coconuts and citrusy fruits filled the air, and the islands seemed to be everything anyone could ever ask for. It was deemed impossible to ever wish for anything more. Of course, there are always exceptions.
Linus, a citizen of this tropical chain of islands, was one of the few rebels against the Heliades’ society. His history pitted him against the nearly perfect land.
But it had not always been this way.
Six years ago, Linus had been a mere fourteen years of age, and he was nothing more than a healthy youth dwelling in the lush, rolling hills of Advoncia, the land clearly favored by Demeter and her unfortunate daughter, Persephone. Here the sky was always blue, and stunning sunsets lit up the joyous atmosphere every time the sun began to sink into the million-year-old seas that met the thirsty ground along the western shores.
Linus was a strong, muscular boy with dirty-blond locks that hung over his handsome features. The tall oaks gently hugged the small stone cottage he called home, and a crystal river that gurgled and bubbled over stones as smooth as silk greeted him and his family every time they approached the door. He adored his one older sibling, Orpheus, and his carefree mother, Calliope. They were a very simple, loving group, and the endless happiness that filled the air never died.
That is, until Eurydice, Orpheus’s dear wife, was helplessly attacked by a venomous serpent as she pranced joyfully by the river that lay in front of the cottage. She was quite an adventurous young woman, and she was too far off into the woods for Orpheus to reach her before her soul drifted down to the desolate Underworld. Orpheus was heartbroken beyond belief, and could not help but set out on a quest to rescue her from the Land of the Dead. Linus begged him desperately to stay with his feet planted firmly on the soft grass of Advoncia, for his brother was also his best friend, but Orpheus firmly refused and marched straight into the forest cave that sat only a little ways into the woods to begin his journey.
Day after day, Linus sat by the river where his brother had last left him and gazed longingly through the trees at the cave from which he had vanished. His once bold figure weakened like a wilted flower, and his skin began to pale. He refused to eat except for the small ends of loafs of bread his mother brought to him, although she coaxed him constantly to come sit in front of the warm fire place and eat something more.
After six long months, the youth finally gave up his lonely waiting. His mother was surprised when he thrust himself into her arms as she came out of the cottage to tend to the garden one spring day. He wailed and wept for what seemed like an eternity. Calliope squeezed him tighter, trying her best to comfort the child.
“I miss him, too,” she whispered. Linus cried even harder. “I know it’s hard, Sweetie, I do,” she continued, a sad look in her grey-blue eyes, “but you’re just going to have to accept that he’s gone.”
Linus suddenly extended his thin, lengthy arms and studied his mother’s sympathetic expression, searching for any signs that it could all be a lie. Unfortunately, he didn’t find any.
“Why,” he managed to croak, “Why couldn’t he just come back? Why did he have to be lost?”
“Shhh. It’ll be okay, Linus, I promise.”
“But why? Why didn’t he come back, Mom?” Linus urged impatiently, his sorrow slowly beginning to boil and become anger.
“Sweetie…”
Linus pushed away from her. “Why didn’t Orpheus come back?” Calliope moved towards her son and began to place her hands on his shoulders to calm him, but Linus would have none of it. He shook her off and darted backwards. He would not back down in this battle. “Ah, I see. You don’t know the answer. You don’t understand.”
“Linus,” Calliope said, startled and beginning to worry about the youth’s emotional stability, “don’t think that. Please don’t. It’s not true.”
“Oh, really? Then why didn’t he come back? Why did that stupid snake ever have to bite Eurydice in the first place? Why are the Fates so stinkin’ cruel? And why couldn’t the gods have been on our side for once?” Enraged, he stared with a soul of fire up at the skies above. “Why weren’t the gods on our side?”
With that, he turned and bolted out into the valley, bursting with spring flowers that would have usually delighted him. He pulled out the small axe that hung on his leather belt and, before his mother could stop him, began swinging it at every beautiful tulip in sight. He then let out a cry of anger and pulled the flint and steel from his back pocket, relentlessly striking them against each other until a spark jumped from his hands to the ground. He ran ahead a few yards and repeated the process, continuing his destructive method until the valley and woods alike were alive with flames.
“How’s that, you selfish gods? You useless, careless gods! What’s it like to see your own treasure destroyed? Huh? Feel the devastation and grief yet? Probably not, since you have hearts of cold stone!”
Linus’s acts of demolition and disrespect to the gods were not the wisest, for Hermes swooped down upon him, pinning him to a patch of grass that was not yet enveloped by fire.
“You have made the gods livid, and their spirits are as fiery as the landscape you now see around you, thanks to your careless actions,” he scolded, shaking his head. “Demeter and Persephone are especially angry, for they have provided you with everything you have ever needed since the day of your birth. Now you have destroyed their favorite land, and Hera, Queen of Olympus, has decided your punishment.”
Almost immediately, a blinding light radiated from the smoky sky, and the youth was unable to see anything around him. For one short moment, he felt as if he was suspended in thin air, and the next, he met the ground with an impact so great that every muscle in his body instantly began to ache. After a long moment of stillness and being paralyzed with fear, he raised his trembling hands in front of his face and cautiously opened his eyes. Slowly, he moved his hands apart to find that the terrifying light was gone, but his surroundings were completely different than before. As soon as he saw the white-sand beaches, glittering ocean water, and lush rain forests, he knew exactly where he was and why.
Hera had banished him to the Heliades.
Years later, Linus still dwelled miserably in the paradise that everyone around him enjoyed so much. Finally, after an eternity of dreadful days, his twentieth birthday came around. On the very day that was supposed to be his most joyous, he was the deepest in his gallons of sorrow, for there was no one to celebrate with him and tell him they loved him. Soon this endless sadness faded into unbelievably incredible motivation to change, or, more appropriately, escape, his unbearable situation.
Linus collapsed into his leafy hammock, which he had crafted himself from the rain forests’ colossal leaves, and stared longingly up at the vivid blue sky. He listened to the tropical birds sing unheard songs and watched their tropical colors flash through the forests’ green threshold above the turquoise blue pools below him. This delightful little oasis in the middle of the rainforest gave him the momentary peace to dwell upon all of his possible options, only for him to realize that his best choice was his least favorite.
Reluctantly, Linus stood up on his hammock and grabbed the sturdy tree branch above him. He then jumped bravely off of his hammock and catapulted himself to the next branch, hooking his legs around it so that he was dangling upside down. The youth continued with this method
until he reached the highest point of the tree, where he sat atop even the thinnest branches. That was the beauty of retaining some power from his goddess mother. He swiftly raised his thin fingers to his lips and let out a surprisingly gentle but loud bird call, and soon there were all of the colors of the rainbow flocking towards him. Linus raised his arms out around him and watched calmly as the creatures drifted onto them and assembled eagerly around him on the tiny branches.
Linus knew that to get anywhere with his mission, he must receive Hera’s undivided attention. Again, he raised his fingers to his lips and let out a beautiful tune, watching proudly as the birds harmonized with his song rather loudly. A determined expression was set into the hard lines on the youth’s face.
“Hera,” he whispered under his breath, “you better keep the one promise you were nice enough to make me.”
The Queen of Olympus, whose husband happened to be away enjoying his little nymphs’ laughter and joy at the moment, was immediately taken by surprise at the song Linus had set to catch her attention with. Indeed, his plan worked grandly, for the song he had chosen, When the Saints Go Marching In, was secretly her favorite of the melodies composed by mortals.
Hearing his request, she said to herself, “Yes, my Dear Linus. This promise is one I would never break.”
Almost instantly, Hera sent a word to Hades, who was now rather good friends with Orpheus and loved the beautiful playing of his lyre, to send the great musician up to the Earth’s bright surface for a moment. Hades, who loved the company of Orpheus, reluctantly agreed.
Linus lit up as bright as the summer sun when he saw his brother, shaken and feeling slightly awkward to be above the Earth’s crust once again. As he quickly thanked the birds and slid down the tree to approach him, his overwhelming happiness turned to overwhelming anger.
“You,” he mumbled as he approached his long-lost brother, fuming, “are the one who caused my imprisoning here.”
Orpheus, who had been attempting to hug his beloved brother, was shoved away by Linus with great force. Nevertheless, the older sibling pursued him anyway, until finally Linus gave up his anger and resistance and leaned into him.
“You will always be my brother, and I will always love you,” Orpheus declared as he embraced Linus for the first time in six long years. “I never meant for you to be in this situation when I left the Earth’s surface for Eurydice, and I will pour my heart and soul into making any wish you have come true.”
Linus gazed up at him, tears streaming down his crimson cheeks. “Really?”
“What is it you need?”
“Well…” Linus started, staring intently at Orpheus’s golden lyre slung over his shoulder on a leather strap.
Seeing the direction of his gaze, Orpheus pulled the Lyre off of his back with a swipe of his hand and held it out to his brother.
“Thanks,” said Linus, hugging Orpheus once again, “you are my savior.”
With that, he turned and excitedly raced into the rainforest on a mission of hope that finally seemed possible.
He could just barely hear his brother calling, “Good luck,” in the distance.
Linus continued on his journey into the very heart of the forest until he reached exactly what he was looking for: a bird’s nest the size of half of a football field. Courageously, he bent down to pick up a baseball-sized stone and hurled it up at the magnificent work of art.
Thud. Shriek. Whoosh!
Linus was suddenly thrust onto his back with a great amount of ferocious wind. Coughing and gasping desperately for air, the youth lifted his head enough to see the giant beast he had awakened swoop down towards the Earth directly in front of him. He tried his best to ignore the pain throbbing in his sore chest and stumbled to his feet to face the monstrous creature that was waiting for him.
White ovals pitted against a background so deep blue that it was almost black bore holes in his confidence. Irises the color of the Mediterranean’s waters caught him by surprise. A large plume colored neon purple, blue, and green sat atop the feathered creature’s massive head, and the tinting of the colors of its feathers were so bright it was almost blinding to look at. Four feather-covered legs supported its body instead of the usual two. Its posture spoke proudly of a wildness and freedom that no one had ever even dared to take control of.
The giant bird let out a shriek so loud it would have instantly perforated a mortal’s eardrums and unexpectedly lunged straight at Linus, claws stretched open and ready to kill. Linus tumbled into a somersault underneath the creature and began his battle strategy.
He softly plucked the wire strings and began whistling a tune more breathtaking than any other one he had composed before. Even as the bird lunged toward him once more, he continued with the unbelievable courage of a hero, his faith in Orpheus keeping him frozen in place on the forest floor.
Linus was shocked when the bird swooped down over him, unfazed and relentless. He winced when it planted its sharp talons firmly into the ground on either side of his head, blocking out the sun, and then raised one up over the center of his chest. The youth knew his chance of escape was as small as a coffee bean.
Linus was fully prepared to die.
However, having the spirit of a lion, Linus was determined to fight to the end. He knew there was no point in fighting the giant beast. He would lose that battle almost instantly. Instead, he continued to strum Orpheus’ lyre, clutching it tight to his chest in case of his death, so that he may bring it back to his brother.
The bird let out one final, deathly shriek, and the youth was almost positive that he was done for. He could feel the beast’s hot breath on his sweaty face, and he closed his eyes in a surrender. Pain shot through his ears as the bird clacked its huge beak, ready to finish the battle that had been won before it even started. He was an injured deer waiting to be ripped open by a relentless coyote.
Linus braced himself for the sharp pain in his chest and the feeling of utter despair. He was certain that it was only seconds away.
He waited. And waited. And waited…
After what seemed like an eternity, he slowly peeled one eye open. Expecting to see the Land of the Dead waiting for him, he was surprised that there was any sun still shining to blind him. Without moving, he monitored his body for any signs of pain. Sure, his shoulder ached badly from being thrown onto the ground, his ears were ringing loudly, and blood was leaking from his nose, but there seemed to be no fatal injuries.
That was when he noticed a warm feeling against his left side. Was he bleeding? Linus couldn’t help but quickly sit up to see, for it didn’t seem to hurt any. He gasped when he saw what the cause of the heat was.
The bird, which had seemed so vicious, deadly, and intent on killing him before, was now snuggled up against his side! Its head rested upon the strings of the lyre, and it appeared to be in a deep sleep.
Linus began to slowly creep away, fearing that it would again become dangerous if it was awakened. Unluckily for him, though, his right foot landed smack-dab in the middle of a twig.
The creature quickly bolted into an upright position and growled, staring at the youth. Immediately, Linus sprang to his feet and raised a huge log off of the banks along the pools around them. He pointed its sharp end at the bird and growled back.
The bird did the exact opposite of what Linus expected: it dropped to the ground and whimpered. Slowly, it crawled on the ground towards him, much like a scared puppy.
Linus cautiously approached the intimidated creature. When he saw that it meant no harm, he knelt down and placed the lyre beside him. It reached feathered talons towards the lyre and pulled it into its body. Linus shook his head and laughed.
“What are you, a dog?”
Linus cracked up even more when the bird looked him straight in the eye, as if saying, “What? Is there something wrong?”
Once the youth had finished his laughing fit, he settled himself just inches in front of the creature and dared to stare right into its magnificent eyes. It
was time to get down to business.
“Have you ever felt,” Linus whispered, “like you were abandoned? Like no one cared about you?” The beast had no answer, as it was not human, but it did stare intently back at him. Linus continued, “I need your help. Please.” The creature appeared to be unamused. “Look at it this way,” Linus countered, sighing, “I need your help as much as you feel you need that lyre.”
After a long moment of silence and gazing at each other, the bird finally reached out its feathery wing. Linus stared at it, not understanding how it wanted him to respond. The bird began flapping his wing up and down impatiently, and the young man finally realized what it was trying to communicate.
He reached out and grabbed its wing in a formal handshake.
“So, the plan is really quite simple,” Linus started. “All you have to do is fly us up into the sun, then through the sun, and...Poof! We will be magically transported to Earth!” The bird looked at him quizzically. Linus puffed his chest and looked towards their destination, high in the bright blue skies. “Just think, both of us together, living a life of freedom!” He waved his hands around in the air, as if painting a picture of their future. “We won’t let the greedy gods who sit carelessly upon their thrones of Mt. Olympus bully us and contain us any longer! Oh, yes, we’ll show em’ who’s really boss. We’ll give em’ a taste of their own medicine, make em’ feel as helpless and angry as their mortal and animal slaves combined!”
The half-bird, half-beast rose to its feet in approval, and, with a piercing shriek full of passion and determination, spread its immense wings wide. It was rearing to go. With the biggest smile that had ever been plastered across his face in six, seemingly endless years, Linus climbed swiftly onto its back.
The beast immediately swooped upward towards the ball of fire floating in the sky. A new sense of freedom was like a powerful jet stream, pushing up under his wings and boosting him higher and higher into the crisp, refreshing air. His wings had been set free from the chains of the past, and a bright, new future beckoned to him with hands of fire. Linus himself was inspired by the cool wind on the back of his neck and the warming heat of the sun ahead.
“Up to the sun we go!” he shouted with glee.
And so they rose up and up and up, fearless on their mission to newfound freedom. Sadly for them, nearly nothing goes on without a god or goddess’s notice.
Hera had, at first, not been worried by Linus’ thrust and determination.
“As much as he may try, his plans will never ever work out,” she mused. “He has no friends to help him, and there is not one citizen of the Heliades that would stop their endless joys and partying to dedicate themselves to helping a jungle Hobo.”
She had not been afraid to send Orpheus from the Underworld for these wise reasons, but it had turned out that the youth was a bit more talented and cunning than she had expected. Now she saw him soaring up towards the sun to escape from the place she herself had imprisoned him and flew into a state of panic. She rushed to the sun god, Apollo, and begged him for some way to stop Linus’s escape. Apollo, however, did not completely agree with Hera’s choices.
“Why wouldn’t you let him live a life of freedom?” he asked. “He’s just a boy. Let him be a boy.”
“I can’t let him bring ruin upon world after world in his ‘freedom’, Apollo, and especially not upon Earth, where he is headed.”
“And why not Earth?”
“Are you insane? The mortals will distrust us, and we will no longer receive the proper sacrifices. If that wasn’t enough, war will break out on Olympus, for not having sacrifices will anger a few particular gods and goddesses here that have that kind of power,” Hera answered confidently.
Apollo sighed. He was no match for the Queen of Olympus in this game.
“Fair enough,” he said, “you have good reasons. I shall not let Linus pass through the sun, but I will permit his bird, as it is innocent enough in this matter.”
The sun grew brighter and brighter and the air grew thinner and thinner as the youth and the bird became closer and closer to the blazing ball. Linus’s excitement, along with the creature’s, grew to the size of a mammoth. They could almost taste the victory and freedom that lie just moments away. As both ambitious friends became enveloped in the sun’s sweltering flames, Linus shouted his last word. It was the word that represented what he had aimed to achieve ever since he had lost everything, and the word that had contained every last ounce of his hope:
“Freedom.”
The bird, who was lost in the excitement of the new life that lie ahead of it, did not notice the loss of his friend. He could feel the heavy burdens of the past lifting off of his tired wings. The strength within him was renewed to ten times stronger than it had previously been, and he felt more rejuvenated than he ever had in his life.
The creature’s magnificent wings had doubled their size, and the shades of his feathers had faded into bold reds, oranges, and golds. Its two thick, feathered back legs melted into long, magnificent tail feathers that seemed to drape for miles behind it. The bird emitted a light and fire that was blinding to look at, and a new passion filled his soul until it was overflowing with happiness and pride. It was unlike anything he had ever felt before and by far the best day of his life. His hope had faded to nothing at all, but now his eyes glittered with the new possibilities that were in his reach.
Apollo had transformed the bird into a magnificent Phoenix.
He swiveled his head around to congratulate and share his joy with his master, only for his newfound pride to melt away to fear and confusion when he realized that his friend was no longer grasping his strong wings. A set of chills ran swiftly down his back like a cold, terrifying serpent.
The bird cried out in sorrow, so loud that the heavens and Earth alike covered their ears. In his fury, he lashed his tail feathers at one thousand miles per hour towards the culprit of Linus’s death. He watched as it flew off into the darkness of endless space, only to be a small star in the distance to Earth’s inhabitants. The mortals, however, barely noticed the colossal change to their environment, for the light the Phoenix itself emitted was as bright as the sun that had lit up the skies.
The Phoenix shrieked louder than the big bang and barreled through the air, his gaze trained on the Earth below. His eyes never left the ground as he searched for his friend for twelve long, lonely hours. When he failed to find Linus from the skies above, he plunged down into the Earth’s blazing core below, where he searched throughout the hot magma and molten rock for twelve hours more. Unfortunately, even this quest was unsuccessful.
But the Phoenix was not one to give up, and he sorrowfully continued his cycles for all eternity. Today, his desolate work is known by all mortals and gods alike, for when he dives beneath the Earth’s surface, all light is absent from the world above, and when he soars high in the sky over all the lands, it is brighter than the sun he replaced.
Mortals call the repetition of this dreadful process night and day.
Hera herself recognized the poor creature and hung her head in shame at the decisions she had made. Every time she saw even the faintest glint of light rising out of the Earth’s crust, she hid in the corner and silently wept. As soon as the last beam of light vanished from the skies, she yelled at herself with anger and hurled her delicate golden crown at the wall. She continued like this, every dawn and every dusk, until finally it was too much for even the Queen of Olympus to bear on her own. Hades, the only god Hera knew would understand her circumstances, was soon greeted by Iris, her favorite messenger. Iris quickly spilled out her master’s circumstances to the Lord of the Dead and pleaded for his help.
“I have seen Linus with his brother, Orpheus,” he said, “and he does look sorrowful sometimes. But he is also overjoyed to be with his brother once more, so I see no prominent reason to send him out of this kingdom.”
“That will not please Hera,” Iris replied sincerely. “It will only make her more furious and despaire
d.”
“Well, would you please remind her for me that I am the ruler of the Underworld, not her?” he replied.
“But Dear Hade…”
“You best be on your way,” he commanded, “or I will send the most evil souls of the dead upon you to trap your soul in the darkest place of the Underworld, and your beautiful colors that everyone adores will never again dance across the skies.”
Frightened by his threatening remarks, Iris fled immediately back to Olympus as fast as she could. When Hera questioned her hasty return, she could not help but confess:
“Hades refused to grant any request that favored Linus returning to the Earth. He was firm in his answer, and I could not help but give in, as he threatened to banish me there forever.”
Any hope that the queen had held before had vanished, and her face turned a deep shade of red.
“Thank you for trying,” she muttered under her breath, attempting to hold in her spewing anger. With that, she fled immediately to her husband, who was enjoying his nymphs in the forests of Lydia.
She darted up to him and grabbed his sturdy shoulders, then summed up all of her strength to shake them.
“I need your help,” she cried, “Hades refuses to let Linus journey up from the Underworld!”
Zeus was alarmed by her sudden appearance and strong emotions, and he begged her to explain to him her situation. Hera blurted out all of the information she could remember about Linus, his banishment, and the bird that now circled the Earth as a Phoenix.
“He said to remind you of what?” Zeus interjected when Hera began explaining Iris’s confrontation with Hades. “That is completely unacceptable!” And so he roared off, lightning bolt in hand, to the Underworld before his wife could even finish.
When Zeus finally arrived, all of the souls of the dead cowered in the darkest shadows and watched with fear as he approached the castle of Hades and Persephone.
“Hades,” he bellowed, flames of anger dancing in his eyes, “come out of your puny palace and face what you set yourself up for!”
Hades could not help but obey his all-powerful brother and exited his place of hiding to stand trembling before him.
“Yes, brother? How may I serve you?”
“Release Linus at once from your hold, or I will strike you with all of my might with this lightning bolt. You have disrespected my wife, Hera, and her messenger.” Zeus said, staring into Hades’ frightened eyes. “You should be dead right now. I am giving you one last chance. Will you take it?”
“Yes! Yes! I will send the boy up immediately!” Hades exclaimed, darting back into his castle.
“Very good,” Zeus chuckled to himself, satisfied.
Meanwhile, Hera sat back in the valley where Zeus had left her, gazing intently at the sky that was constantly getting darker and darker. Suddenly, her face lit up with a smile and she jumped to her feet.
“Look,” she shouted to the nymphs that had gathered to comfort her, her long finger pointed skywards, “there’s Linus and his Phoenix!”
Everyone looked to the far west, where Linus, seen as a dark shadow from having dwelled in the Underworld, embraced his feathered friend, seen as a hot ball of fire. All who dwelled on Earth, the Underworld, and Olympus gasped at the magnificent sight of the phenomenon and cheered for the joyful reunion in the sky.
So it came to be that twice every year, once at the beginning of winter and once at the beginning of summer, Linus and his Phoenix meet in the skies above Earth with overflowing happiness. This event has come to be most commonly known as the eclipse, enjoyed annually by mortals, gods, and souls of the dead alike.
The Jelly Beans
By Evelyn Andel
Eos frolicked through the tall grass as if she held the world in her hands, but really she was as tiny as a bean and could not identify the direction of her own home. She was the Goddess of Beans, and her 12 children followed single file behind her. From afar they looked like a duck and her ducklings. Eos, the goddess of beans, reached the stony path that led to the door of her home. The small children yelped for joy as soon as it came into sight, and they scurried to the door like mice. The children opened the secret door for the children and herself. The small cottage was a mansion from their view, there were beans everywhere you glanced, used for everything. Hollowed out beans were used for beds and baby hollowed beans were used for cups and bowls. The only bean that had no purpose at all that was just sitting on the table, was the most ordinary of all beans, called, well bean. Her good friend, Goddess of breakfast, was always there for her when she needed most, she had invited the goddess of breakfast for, as you can imagine, breakfast.
The goddess finally arrived, with some of her famous growing jelly.
“Welcome,” Eos said kindly, “Come…come inside. There is this bean, and it is very interesting. I thought you might use it in your jelly.”
“I have brought you the magical, flourishing jelly, will you try some?” She asked kindly, peering down at Eos tiny head.
“Of course,” She gratefully accepted as she called for the children to carry it in. They walked in together, opening the false human door. They walked together to the table and sat down, first moving the beans to the floor.
“Is it interesting,” She said to the goddess of breakfast, “Can you use it?”
“No, sorry,” She replied regretfully, “Farewell.” The tiny soul was disappointed, and she nodded, as if agreeing, after her as she disappeared into the long grass. The goddess trudged back inside, only to find the children playing on the table. CRASH!!! There went the jelly, onto the bean unlike any other. The angered goddess walked in the fields, suddenly a huge and great foot almost descended on her.
“Hey, watch where you going big foot.” The goddess yelled after the creature.
“Oh sorry, I am Vision, and you would think my vision would be better.” The goddess of books said, Eos, however, did not find her joke funny. The stars were out gleaming like never before, a rainbow firework shot in the sky from the direction of Eos’s house. The goddess started to bolt, her chest of fire, screaming for the children. The worried goddess arrived at the house wheezing her lungs out, the house was fine. Eos went inside and there was a hole in the roof and in the table. The beans were gone. Suddenly, “POP” she looked beside her and the beans are falling from the sky. One split open, it was beautiful, a whirlpool of rainbow water. The inside was like a heart of a human the goodness is on the inside not visible until it breaks open or finds love. Eos picked them up, burning, and cut them open and serves them to her children and herself.
“Mama, mama I am growing,” little Joey squealed. She looked at all her children each one growing six feet tall, she looked at her own feet and saw the floor getting farther away from her sweaty face. Eos arose from the floor the marvelous goddess had been let go, released too run in the fields as an equal, like all the other gods and goddesses. Now all gods, big or small, will bow down to her, and she walked in the fields of beans like she controlled the world. From that day on, Eos was now truly goddess of the fields.
Why Do We Make Snowmen
By Nathan Hoover
Hector Trenth trudged through the snow to his house; the snow seeming to pull down on his feet with each step. His crestfallen face gazed up as he saw his modest village just over the next hill. He could just imagine his family's surprise as he dragged his freshly caught deer onto the porch bringing the joy to his family that there would be a feast tonight. He passed by the other huts until he approached his, which was slightly smaller than the others. He quietly kicked his boots against the hut to knock off some of the snow from his boots. The snow splattered to the ground.
When Hector silently entered the house, his sister Emily screamed, “Close the door you're letting all the cold air in, are you crazy?”
“Yep, that’s my loving sister,” Hector hissed under his breath. Hector shook off his boots and motioned to his mother to come outside. She was currently sitting at the small rickety tabl
e crammed in the back. Knitting what looked to be a very misshapen pair of socks. Reluctantly, his mother ascended steadily to her feet and followed Hector to the doorway.
When she saw the deer on the porch she narrowed her eyes and smacked Hector across the face, “Do you have any idea what Frostbite could have done to this village if you had been caught? You could have gotten us all killed. If I told you once I’ve told you a million times, never hunt deer near Frostbite’s dwelling. Or do I need to remind you what happened to the last fellow who stole from Frostbite?” She whispered harshly to him.
“It doesn't matter mom, because I wasn't caught.” Hector said exasperated on how his mother had reacted to his prize.
“Well there's no sense just letting that deer rot outside might-as-well bring it inside so that I can prepare it. Why don’t you go sit around the campfire with the men WHO DON’T steal from the goddess of winter? Maybe they will put some common sense in that brain of yours.” She said shooing Hector away.
Hector awkwardly walked to the men across the camp-fire who were whispering in miniscule tones. Hector sat down in the group on top of a decomposing log. Hastily joining the conversation.
“How much longer will this blasted season last?” said one man, who was immediately seconded by another.
“This treacherous season is bitter, wet, and especially unforgiving.”
Up on her mountain, Frostbite looked down menacingly, upset that these pitiful mortals would dare criticize her season. Swiftly, she swept her hand over the snow in strange complicated patterns until an army of ten seven foot tall snowmen with razor sharp icicle teeth were born.
“Demonstrate to these pitiful mortals what happens when they dare insult the goddess of winter, MAKE THEM PAY!”
Down at the village Hector heard the warning bells. What could that be he wondered, as he saw a group of hunters entering through, and closing the wooden gates that protected the village? The group of hunters looked considerably smaller than when he had seen them leaving this morning.
“What’s going on, and why are the hunters back so early with not all their men?” Hector bellowed, trying to be heard over the clammer of villagers.
One of the hunters stood up on an ancient tree stump and began to explain what happened, as he got further into the story the villagers got more and more silent.
“We didn't stand a chance, as we were hunting a group of ten snowmen with razor sharp icicle teeth attacked us killing three of our party, and injuring two of us. We need to find a way to fight off these monsters until summer when the snow will dissolve.”
One of the villagers decided to summon the other men over to try to find a way to fight the snowmen. Hector heard a strange noise outside of the wall, as he climbed to the top and peeked over he saw a snowman gnawing on the wood slowly making progress eating a hole through the defense. Suddenly, he heard a scream from the other side of the village and saw multiple snowmen attacking the villagers through a hole in the wall. At the opposite side of the village, ten men lined up and launched scalding hot water at the snowmen, but the plan backfired and the snowmen froze the water in midair turning it into icicle spears and ramming the villagers through with appalling force. As Hector hopped down from the wall, he headed to the center of the village where the remaining villagers were making a final stand. Just as Hector reached the remaining resistance the snowmen forced everyone to surrender.
“Come with us or be destroyed!” the snowmen chanted in unison and walked away.
The villagers willingly followed and were soon out of breath from the walk and climb up the mountain. Though no one said it, everyone began to fear that they were headed to Frostbite’s lair. Soon their fears were confirmed as they entered the gloomy crevice in the mountain that frostbite called home. As they approached the throne that Frostbite sat on, all the villagers kneeled before her.
“Why are you calling on us?” one of the villagers began to say, but was quickly cut off as one of the snowmen stabbed him through the back with an icicle spear.
“I’ll be the one talking and you will not say a word unless spoken to. To start, you gripe about my glorious season and some of you even dare to hunt in my territory to steal my prey. One of you must pay for this with their life. I choose…. you.” she said pointing a finger at Hector. One of the snowmen dragged him forward. “This is my proposition, I take this boy and kill him and I will let you go as long as you promise not to steal from my woods and not to gripe about my season.”
The villagers quickly agreed, even Hector’s own family, So Frostbite picked up Hector, he kicked and punched screaming like a banshee, but it was no use. The more he tried to escape the more constricted he became by Frostbite’s killer grasp. Frostbite watched Hector’s struggle with an amused look on her face. Then she lifted her arm and hurled him from her dwelling. Hector reached out as he passed over the edge of the dwelling and caught onto the cliff of the mountain. Resulting in himself hanging from the mountain. He gritted his teeth as the jagged rocks pierced his skin and a warm trickle of blood flowed from his hand. As he looked up he met Frostbite’s gaze. Like a cat toying with a mouse, Frostbite began to remove Hector’s fingers from the edge one by one.
As the last finger was removed the villagers could hear Hector say “I forgive you.” As he fell into what seemed the endless abyss, his face disappearing into the mist. Many villagers shed tears that day, both family and friends.
Since then, during the winter the people all around the world make snowmen to remember the tragic event. As an honor for his sacrifice, Hector’s name has been passed down through generations to the strongest of the strong. It even reached the great city of Troy and the name was given to a new great hero, the prince of Troy, but that is another story.
How Water Lilies Came To Be
By Carrie
I’ve heard from my master that we live in a place called -- I think-- Issohcran? Maybe? Issohcran is a small Hind-Legger place, I think, where Hind-Leggers live. We live far away from everyone else, in an up-high Hind-Legger Den in the woods. It’s very green here. My master is the kindest Hind-Legger that I know. She’s so loving to me, she pets me, loves me, feeds me, she’s just the best! Oh yeah. And her name is Lilly. She’s one of those things they call nymphs. She has the prettiest fur! It’s a lot like mine -- golden and silky and shiny, a lot like the sun, too. And -- another weird thing about her -- she LOVES tree bark. I really don’t know why, but almost everything she owns has the stuff on somewhere on it. My food bowl is even made from it! Oh, shoot. I think she found out about the… um… accident? She can be horrendous when she’s mad, by the way.
“Rufus!” That’s my name. Rufus. “Oh you bad dog. Grrr! That was my mother’s dish! My mother’s! Why do you always have to destroy everything?” See what I mean by horrendous? And she makes it more horrendous when her face turns all purple -- which it was -- and when she stomps so loud that I think I’ll go deaf. Which she was unhelpfully doing. Her hands were on her hips and she was glaring horribly.
“You are the worst dog in ALL of Icocran! All the other nymphs love you, but you are horrible!” Oh, lordie. Here comes the storm. Like that wasn’t. Ha! Whimpering, I scooted towards her nervously. She contains the worst glare in the history of the world. Oh if only she could speak my language! Then she’d understand that a squirrel was teasing me and I had to go outside and chase it! I couldn’t very well go through the window, so I had to run out the door. It was only an accident that I hit the table in my path where her dish was. Actually, it was her fault for leaving the dish there. Hmph! That’s what I say. But sometimes, if I give her my look, she gets nice again. So I plopped down and opened my big, brown eyes all wide and looked sadly and guiltily up at her. I couldn’t suppress a tiny whimper, too.
“Oh...Rufus. Don’t g
ive me that look. You’re so pathetic! Come on. I forgive you. We can glue it back together again. Look, I think there’s a lot of bark in the forests at this time of year. C’mere, you goof ball. You’re so silly! Don’t say I didn’t warn you about the tree bark. But there’s one danger about loving tree bark that she’s told me about. The god, Euranius (u-RIAN-us), the god of paper, I think, liked bark, too. And he did NOT like the fact that a nymph liked it also. Because he wanted it all to himself. And, of course, all the trees in the forest belonged to him. So Lilly was putting herself in lots of danger when she snuck tree bark. Sometimes I heard him rumbling to his wife, Sakline, grumbling about something or other.
“Sakline! Look at that stupid nymph! Trying to sneakily steal my bark again! I’m sick of it! Make her stop! No, don’t. You’re too unsmart to do anything. Let me. I’m the better one after all.” I could hear him because my sharp ears picked up practically every sound on Earth! Which...is sometimes not the best ability because sometimes I hear stuff that isn’t so pretty. And I might get in trouble for eavesdropping, too. Oh, by the way, that was the god I was telling you about earlier. Sakline is the goddess of flowers and beauty. Not good.
“Hon, I hate to say this, but there’s a REALLY obvious solution.” Sakline was unhelpfully trying to be helpful, but it wasn’t really helpfully helping because the dumb goddess unhelpfully wasn’t helpfully telling her husband what the helpful solution was. Wow. Sometimes I think that those Hind-Leggers are really dumb, because they are. Know what I mean?
“What is it? Maybe you’re not so stupid after all. Tell me!”
“Oh, darling. A smart person like you…”
As we continued on, their voices faded away and I was jerked back into real life. Apparently, just in time because I suddenly spotted a long green stick. Also known as a snake. Also known as a venomous snake. Also known as a venomous snake about to bite Lilly!!! I instantly dropped into a low crouch, growling like nobody’s beeswax.
“What is it, bud? Huh? What do you see?” I crept closer and closer to the coiled snake. It pulled its glittering head back, so, of course, I thought it was retreating. I couldn’t have been more wrong. The next thing I knew, Lilly was shouting something that I didn’t hear and I could feel a horrible pain shoot up my leg. I wailed in pain, crying helplessly. Then everything went black.
***
“Please let him be OK. Please, please, please. Miz Lune, tell me he’ll be OK. Tell me!”
“‘E’s gon’ be OK. See look, ‘e’s openin’ ‘is eyes.”
“RUFUS!!!!!!!!!!!! You’re alive! Oh, thank Euranius. Thank Zeus. Thank Sakline. Thank the gods. Thank everything! Look, Miz Lune. He’s alive! Are you OK, boy? Huh? Are you? Are you?” I blinked open my tired eyes to see two faces peering down at me. One, I knew--Lilly. Her face looked as if all of the stars, the moon, and the sun had been plastered on to it, it was shining so much. Her eyes were sparkling and laughing with delight. Her grin was as if the strongest Hind-Legger in all of Issohcran had taken her mouth and pulled as hard as they could, stretching it out. She leaned over and kissed the top of my head joyfully. But the other person, I didn’t know. She had darker skin and dark, dark fur. She was wearing a deer-skin outerwear and her paws were empty. But she had a very kind, joyful, and loving face. She smiled down at me, her smile not nearly as wide as Lilly’s. But it was still big, just the same. But suddenly, right then and there, my leg started to throb. I whimpered. It was as if someone was stabbing me with a million and more knives, it hurt so much. I don’t think Lilly noticed, unfortunately.
“Oh. Rufus, this is Miz Lune. She saved you from the snake bite.” Snake bite??? What snake bite? I asked myself, giving Lilly what I hoped was a questioning look. Maybe it was why my leg hurt so much. Apparently, my look was questioning.
“Darlin’,” Miz Lune called softly. “You waz bit by a snake. A little, tiny, bitty snake. Don’t you worry now! See, you OK.” I remember that day very clearly. In seconds, Lilly was gone, off to collect some bark, and I was left alone with Miz Lune. Her face was so kind and so gentle.
“Now, now, ‘on’. Close your eyes, get some sleep, Lilly be back when you wake.” I really didn’t want to close my eyes. I didn’t want Miz Lune to go! But eventually, exhaustion kicked in, and my eyes closed. All was peaceful as I fell into a deep, deep sleep. If only I had gone with Lilly. But how was I supposed to know that she would never, ever run her hand over my golden fur again?
***
The screams pierced my sleep. The horrible screams of my master. Instantly, I leaped up. Bad choice. Pain shot up my leg and I let out a howl, collapsing to the floor. The bite! How could I have forgotten that I’d been bitten? How? Ignoring the injury and pain, I bravely leaped up again and hobbled out of the Hind-Legger Den towards the screams. Now I could make out some desperate words.
“No! How could you! I need my hands! Please! How will I be able to love and feed Rufus anymore? How?”
“I’m taking away the ability to use your hands because, as I already explained to you, if you steal my bark then I figure out how to stop you. Making you lose your hands was the solution.”
“But--my dog--he needs me--how could you--but--” Euranius lifted his hands then, muttered some words, and instantly Lilly dropped her hands to her sides, sobbing. I started to run. Running, racing, my leg screaming in pain. The wind whipped at my fur, trying to push me back. The trees whispered at me to stop. I couldn’t stop. I wouldn’t. Panting, I suddenly saw them. Lilly, her hair in a wild mess and tangled with sticks and leaves. Her face was wet with tears, and yet still they were coming. Her hands hung limply at her side. And him. The god. Euranius. I gave a small whimper of fear. He was so tall, so strong, and so magnificent. And so angry. He was glaring at Lilly, looming over her like one of the looming trees. Anyone else, and I would have leaped to Lilly’s defense. But that wasn’t gonna happen. You don’t mess with gods. And then there was my leg, too.
“Rufus!” Lilly wailed. She turned back to the god. “Please! Please.” Unhappily, she sank to the ground. All was silent. Even the birds that usually twittered happily were noiseless. Not a sound was made. The tall trees loomed above me, seemingly glaring at me. The bushes rustled in the wind, whispering to me. Then Euranius, in a flash of gold light, was gone. I padded over to Lilly. The ground underneath my paws was prickly, and it hurt. She now smelled of wet leaves from the ground. The beautiful light streaming down through the trees encircled her in a golden halo, making her look gorgeous. I nudged her, knowing that she would be comforted and run her hand over me. She always did. Then, she would lean over and comfort me and tell me all her problems. She always did. Then, she would scoop me up and walk us back home. She always did. But not today. Today, she struggled up and walked off, in the direction of home, leaving me alone in the woods. I barked after her departing shape, but she didn’t turn around. I started to speedily streak after her, still barking. She turned this time, but said something I didn’t expect.
“No, Rufus. No.” She broke into a run. I was not going to give up. But I skidded to an abrupt halt when she closed the door instead of letting me in. I sat down, startled. My howl split the silent air, but I could do nothing to get her to let me in. My injured leg was perfectly fine, miraculously (I mean, how does a leg heal in a couple of minutes? And of course, the obvious answer never came to me, the one that was that Euranius had healed it. Oh well.) Which meant...wait...not nothing. I could bring her bark! Then she’d have to let me in. I was back within minutes with 4 pieces in my jaws. I scratched at the wooden door until eventually, the door opened. When she saw the bark, I could tell she was dumbfounded. She stared at me for a minute, her normally laughing blue eyes squinting down at me. Then, suddenly her face lit up.
“Teeth! Oh, Rufus you’re so clever! Hang on. I’ll be right back.” She pushed the brown door closed with her foot, and I could hear her hurrying away. When she came back, she was fully dressed and ready to go. We marched off, with me carrying
her bark pouch in my jaws. When we arrived in the trees, she told me to drop the bag. Then she leaned forward, closer to a tree. She grabbed a piece of bark in her teeth and pulled as hard as she could. Eventually, the strip of bark came off in her mouth.
“Open the bag, will you, boy?” But with the piece of bark in her mouth, it sounded more like, “Oha a ag, ill oo, oy?” I did as she told me, wondering why she wasn’t using her hands to get the bark, and why she couldn’t open the bag herself. When the bag was opened wide enough, she dropped the piece of bark in, then turned back to the tree. Finally, we had collected enough pieces of bark to satisfy her. I carried the bag back home again, and then promptly sat down to wait for dinner. None came. Hello? Did she even know I was still there? I wasn’t that hard to see, I didn’t think. I gave a tiny whimper and picked up my dog bowl. Lilly turned towards me. As soon as she saw me, her eyes filled with tears. So quick, right? One minute, she’s happily laughing, the next, crying.
“No, Rufus. You have to go hunt your own food now. I can’t feed you anymore.” Wait, what? What does she mean, she can’t feed me? My mind was whirling. In such a quick amount of time, too.
“Go now. Go catch your food.” She tugged open the door with her foot and gently nudged me out. Startled, I headed for the large woods. Why couldn’t she feed me anymore? Why did she stop petting me and loving me? She only seemed to be like this after her encounter with Euranius. What had happened there that had caused this? I never imagined that she had lost the ability of her hands. I didn’t find that out until it was too late to understand.
***
I could smell mouse. I was starving and a mouse seemed like a good idea. I lifted my nose and crept after the smell until I caught sight of the mouse underneath a tree, nibbling on grass as soft as a feather. Dropping into a crouch, I crept closer and closer, trying to stay downwind. I was finally close enough. Bunching up my muscles first, I leaped into the air, landing squarely on top of the unknowing mouse. I closed my jaws around its throat, then dove in. After eating, I captured another mouse and a rabbit for dinner. They didn’t taste quite as good as the food my master fed me. Actually, it was gross. It tasted like dried cardboard mixed with paint and mud. But at least it was food. Once I finished, I hurried back home and scratched on the door. Five little toes poked through the door and pulled it open. Lilly was standing with the bark bag in her teeth, about to get bark.
“Rufus, you’ve gotta stay here and wait for me, OK?” she explained, dropping the bag. Then she leaned down and picked up the bag again. I longed to scurry after her, racing to keep up until we reached a bark-covered tree, but I stayed put, watching her departing shape.
Meanwhile...
“I can see you, Luliann. I can see you taking my bark with your teeth!” The loud, booming voice of Euranius made all the trees shudder. Oh, and Luliann is Lilly’s real name, in case you didn’t know. He suddenly appeared before her.
“Follow me, Luliann. Come,” Lilly hurried after him, because you don’t disobey gods. As she followed him, he started climbing the air, ordering Lilly to watch him, yet still follow him. Since Lilly was watching him and not the ground, she stumbled several times. Oh yeah, and you might want to know that Euranius was leading her to a sparkling, blue pond. Who knew that something so pretty could be so deadly! Lilly seemed not to notice.
“Maybe now you will know not to steal my bark.” Euranius boomed.
“Wait-what?” Lilly questioned, finally looking down. But it was too late. Lilly stumbled and fell into the pond.
“HELP!” she screamed. “Help! Somebody! Please!” But she started sinking. Sakline came down, talking to Euranius in a soft, gentle voice, murmuring “Dear, I think that was a bit too harsh. She shouldn’t have died that way.”
“Well, it’s too late now.”
“At least let me turn her into a flower.” the gentle voice pleaded.
“Whatever. See if I care. ‘Cuz I don’t.” Lilly started to shrink until she was about an inch tall. Her hair turned into soft, silky, pink petals, with a little bit of white at the bottom. More and more appeared, until there was enough to be in the shape of her, lying at the bottom of the pond, now gorgeous flowers. Now, if you look down at the bottom of the pond, you will see a girl there, her hair splayed out beautifully, her delicate feet pointed. The first fresh-water water lily.
But back at home, I knew about none of this until much later. I stood at the window, watching out, and waiting for her return. But she didn’t come back for the rest of the day. I stayed there, by the window, for days. Miz Lune came sometimes, and forced me to eat and drink, but I did so at the window. I didn’t budge from that spot, waiting for Lilly to return until much later. But she never came back. So I set off after her. I ran, hoping, praying. I never found her.