Author:
Time to Read:
Prior to the age of man, the Opal River grew bored with her repetitive task of ferrying water. Thus, she asked Rain to scrape the slopes of the prideful Sheldore Mountain.
Sediment flowed into the arms of Opal, who deposited the silt amongst her river banks. And forthwith sprung mighty forests nurtured by waters rich in the wealth of life.
Sheldore did notice Rain’s acidic treachery. Angered, he drew upon volcanic bowels to rise far above the reach of the clouds.
Next, Sheldore called forth countless beavers to punish the river whose trees raced skyward. With their incisors, they felled great portions of Opal’s forest. She thrashed and lashed against the beavers’ dams, but they only felled more of Opal’s precious trees to dam her current. The mountain couldn’t bear to watch.
In a brief respite, Opal noticed the destruction her wrath had wrought: vast lakes drowned miles of land, marshes sickly green from choking sediments. And so the river called upon Rain to cry tears of sorrow.
Rain refused, for the feud had left the ocean to thirst and the skies to dry.
Appalled, Sheldore called the beavers to withdraw, granting the ocean water once more. However, the path carved by the dams intrigued the Opal River, who left some standing. Meanwhile, the vibrant shades of the flora inspired the Sheldore Mountain, who asked Opal to give him plants of his own. And so, together, they began nurturing wondrous wetlands and spirited forests, shaping serpentine streams and towering slopes.
