Éagruth was lonely. He had played with all the animals, and tricked them all--a story for another day--but he longed for someone more complicated to challenge. He reached into the riverbank and pulled out some clay. He shaped some clay around all the gifts he had taken from the animals. He rolled it into a rough stick shape, with one arm and one leg, and breathed life into it. It began to screech and hop around. It was a clumsy fellow, and kept falling over while trying to follow Éagruth around.
"This will never do," he thought. "He needs some accompaniment, if he is to stand on his own." Éagruth made another one-armed, one-legged stick. But he had no more gifts from the animals, and despite the breath of life, it just stood there.
Not to be deterred, Éagruth fused the two together, and made man. "I will call you 'Talún,'" he said. Éagruth and Talún played together and were happy. When Éagruth played too roughly, Talún was injured. Éagruth became bored and walked away.
As it happened, Eagar was walking by and nearly tripped on poor Talún. "Cursed Éagruth," he thought. "He never cleans up after himself." He picked up Talún and was about to return the clay to the river, when he realized how alive Talún was. He was not an animal, he was something else. Something special. But Eagar could see that he was only half alive. He was also half empty.
Eagar leaned down, and whispered to the empty half. He whispered the Word into him. Talún's mind was suddenly awake. That first word created more words, until he had a language and a way to express himself. Eagar was pleased with Talún and made him a wife. Talún taught his wife the Word, and they began mankind.
Eagar introduced mankind to his children, Ghrian and Ghaelach. They loved mankind, too, and agreed to watch over them in exchange for mankind's help watching over the world.
A long time ago, when the world was all dry land and mankind was new, they had only the Word. They lived and died by the Word, but there lives were incomplete.
When Rue was born at midnight, under a Full Opal moon, Ghaelach smiled. While no one was looking, he reached into Rue's heart, and placed there some of the fire he had stolen from Ghrian. Rue spent life bursting with emotion, and invented music as a way to express it. Rue invented the harp, so the music would have accompaniment -- therefrom came the tenet that nothing should be alone.
When Rue would play, the world would feel. If Rue played a happy song, the plants grew and the animals were peaceful. The weather was calm, and families got along. If Rue was angry, great storms would rage, the earth would quake, and the animals would become savage and unpredictable.
In the kingdom of Shuil, there was a drought. The crops were dying and the people were starving. The king of Shuil invited Rue and Rue's lover to visit his kingdom. During dinner the king served Rue's lover meat that had been tainted by a magic spell, cast by his vizier. Rue's lover became very sick, and no one could seem to say why. Rue watched helpless for days as death slowly crept in and left Rue utterly alone.
Rue wept, and played the harp, and Shuil's drought broke. The crops began to return as the new rain fell. For days Rue wept and played, and played and wept. Then for weeks. Then for months. And the sky wept, too.
The people of Shuil began to despair. They had not seen Ghrian for months for the clouds. They were depressed and miserable. Their animals would give no milk or eggs, and their meat tasted bitter. They could barely go out for the constant rain. The king of Shuil dragged Rue from his castle and had him exiled.
Rue walked the world, playing the harp and drowning mankind. The lowlands flooded and became the seas. The midlands flooded and became lakes. The whole world began to fear that it would drown in Rue's sorrow.
Rue played for a year and a day. And then he stopped. Many kingdoms had been swallowed by the waters. Many others had been forever separated by the new seas.
Some parents tell the tale that brave and dutiful heroes killed Rue to save mankind. Some say Ghealach put Rue to sleep and took back the fire. Others say a clever trickster stole Rue's magic harp. Still others say that after a year and a day, Rue had finally healed.
adapted from Dyana Boxley
Many years ago, there was a gray squirrel who lived near the mountain of the Storm King. This squirrel was mischievous and loved shiny things. He travelled far and wide stealing objects for his collection. Since settling near the mountain, he had admired the Storm King—his flashy lightning bolts, his bright and mighty trident, and his shiny ornate ring. The squirrel would often follow the Storm King from a distance just to catch a glimpse of his treasures. One day, he followed the Storm King all the way home. While the Storm King slept, the squirrel crept into his bedroom. First, he spotted the Storm King’s ring laying on the bedside table. Oh, was it shiny! The squirrel slid it up over his shoulder and continued to explore. As he moved around the room, he saw the shiny gold trident leaning against the headboard. He wrapped his tiny fingers around the haft and pulled. It was too big and too heavy and the squirrel lost control. It clattered to the floor, waking the sleeping Storm King with a start.
The squirrel, making sure the ring was secured, ran for the door. The Storm King, groggy with sleep, stumbled from his bed in time to see the squirrel fleeing with his ring. The Storm King swept his trident off the floor and strode out after the squirrel. He pointed the trident and sent forth a bolt of lightning, streaking toward the squirrel. It caught him as he ran and lifted him into the air, propelling him right off of the mountain. The squirrel landed in the forest, his skin burnt and his fur scorched as black as soot.
To this day, the Black Squirrel carries the lesson not to reach for what he cannot carry.