I've heard it whispered amongst the tree folk and the breath of the wind spirits. That there is a way to cleanse the lake. A tale told over cups of tea and inquiries. A forget me not remedy. A ancient page of an ancient tome from when the buffalos used to roam.
Long ago when our world still had some magic left within it. Our lake here fell victim to an awful curse. Gloom had penetrated its waters and its depths burped up the corpses of rotting fish. Our people relied heavily on the bounties of the lake for food and drink and they used it to bathe and relax. It meant everything to us. without it we fell distraught and we gave up hope. We began staring longingly at the toxic lake and watched as waves of decayed flesh battered the shorelines. All seemed lost until a small group of outcasts got together with a simple thought.
"These people need to be fed."
They set out into the hills and deep into the forests that surrounded the lake in search of food to feed the masses and restore hope. As they journeyed they talked about their goals and dreams and they got closer to each other. When one of them stumbled another would help them up as they continued to search. For a few days they walked until they stumbled upon a valley with a massive herd of buffalo. They sat and watched in amazement as the sun rose slowly casting the herd in a warm red glow.
They watched from afar and learned all that they could about the buffalo. They learned why and what made them migrate a certain way. They picked up on the pack behaviors. They admired the harmony at which the buffalo lived with each other and their surroundings. They began to see a new view for life not away from the lake but in harmony with it. The group of outcasts with big dreams and an unwillingness to watch people starve ventured forth to ask the buffalo to help. As the group approached the herd they realized the sheer size of the creatures that now towered above them.
"Please. Wise buffalo. our lake has been plagued and the life within has died. We need help or our people will surely die of starvation and dehydration." They pleaded their situation with the pack leaders.
After much consideration the buffalos began to roar and stomp there hoofs gently in place. A small cloud of dust began to form and the buffalo lined up in a single file line. The group of out casts began to laugh and sing. They danced with the buffalo all the way back to the village with high hopes in their hearts. As they entered the town gates the fire patrol noticed them and ran out to greet them. They praised the outcasts and one of them offered his hat and coat to the lead buffalo out of respect for coming.
They marched a little farther and a dye makers daughter had noticed the stunningly handsome buffalo leading the pack. She rushed over with discarded dyes and began painting hand prints on the buffalo that followed. The group of out casts joined the dye makers daughter and they all painted and decorated the buffalo as they marched into town.
It did not take long with all the beautiful colors parading around for all those hopeless eyes to turn from the lake and show a sliver of light as they gazed upon the buffalo.
A crowd gathered and cheered and one by one they dressed up every single buffalo. They brought out each buffalos unique personality and they danced and celebrated life until dawn. The people learned to live in harmony with the buffalo and they relied less on the lake. Over time the lake returned to its healthy ways but it took a lot of hard work and the wisdom of the buffalo.
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Forget me not remedies.
RandomA series of mystical short stories filled with magic and wonder.