The Day the Lake Came – A Mythical Tale of Wonder
By TaleTreasury
In a meadow far from the nearest town, a young boy sat cross-legged, picking at wildflowers and humming to himself beneath the afternoon sun. The sky was calm, the wind gentle — until the earth betrayed its stillness.
At first, it was subtle. A twitch beneath his bare toes. Then, the ground pulsed again, stronger, and again, until the trembling became undeniable. The blades of grass vibrated around him, and the once peaceful field began to shudder with an urgency that made his heart stutter. Confused, the boy scrambled to his feet, only to find that the earth refused to stand still. The soil danced beneath him like a living thing, thwarting his attempts to regain balance.
Then the sky darkened.
A shadow—vast and consuming—fell across the field, and with it came a thunderous roar. The boy instinctively covered his eyes and plugged his nose, bracing for an impact he couldn’t understand. But what came instead was wonder: a towering pillar of water, crystal clear and impossibly blue, descended from the heavens and landed in front of him with barely a splash.
Eyes wide, he peered into the strange column of water. Fish swam lazily inside, unaware of how far from the sea they had come. The water did not spill; it held itself upright, a miracle defying gravity. Without thinking, the boy extended his fingers. As soon as they dipped into the cool liquid, he recoiled in shock—it was real.
Above him came a sound like rolling thunder.
“Hmm…” a deep, contemplative voice rumbled through the sky. The boy slowly looked up—and gasped.
The water stretched upward, far into the clouds, shaping itself into a giant—a god formed of living water. Its translucent body shimmered with aquatic life; its limbs moved like rivers, and its face was barely distinguishable from the tide. The boy froze, heart pounding. Surely, he had touched a divine being—had he committed sacrilege?
But the god made no move to smite him.
Instead, the watery titan scanned the land with great deliberation. Again came the resonant “Hmm…” as it cocked its immense head. After a pause, the god nodded to itself and whispered in a voice that seemed to echo from every droplet of air, “Yes, this will do quite nicely.”
The giant bent low, arms of water plunging into the ground. It scooped mounds of earth aside like a child playing in sand, carving a vast basin in the heart of the field. Dirt flew in all directions, exposing ancient roots and forgotten stones.
Then, with an almost reverent sigh, the great god stepped into the hollow it had formed. Its body shifted, flowing and melting, its distinct limbs and head dissolving until the enormous form lost all human likeness. What remained was a lake — silent, shimmering, eternal.
The boy stood motionless, unsure whether to laugh, cry, or run home screaming the tale.
Instead, he sat again in the grass, now damp with mist. The sun had begun to sink behind the hills, painting the sky in hues of lavender and gold. The water’s surface reflected the twilight like a mirror touched by magic.
And so he watched, quietly, the birth of the lake.
Moral of the Story:
Sometimes the most powerful forces arrive not with destruction, but with purpose. Nature is not always chaos—it can be creation, wonder, and divine silence.
