A/N: Update 2014
I have finally grown as a writer to where I don't hunger for concrit as much as I used to. Feel free to review if you'd like, but that's entirely up to you. :)
Yuan's Tale (As told by Kratos)
By Baby Kat Snophlake
This is the tale of a young boy versus the wilderness. Dared to face a night out on his own without the comfort of friends or family, he found himself in the middle of nowhere with nothing but flint, a huge slab of bacon that was bigger than he was, and a gourd full of water. His mission: to climb to the peak of the Fooji Mountains and plant a homemade flag at the very top.
The slope nowadays have been tamed, but back then the trail used to be as treacherous as walking into a bear's den come spring. The plants were not only alive, but to them, the bacon smelled just as good as the boy who carried it.
Then you had the beasts that were ruthless enough that if they stepped on their own eggs and crushed them, the eggs became a free-for-all feast. This happened in the dead of winter when the mountains became so cold, a boy's breath would scarcely escape his lips before it fell frozen to his feet. Ignoring the plants, the beasts, and the cold, the trail itself was so steep that boy's trip would take three times as long because he was carrying so much bacon.
If he had foreseen what was about to happen, he would've brought a blanket, a lit candle instead of flint and the gourd of water. But being the naïve eleven-year-old that he was, he stumbled foolishly into trouble wearing only a knee-length tunic. He fended off the beasts with his bad singing, and the plants with the beasts that stalked him. His singing wouldn't deter the beasts for too much longer, however, for they were beginning to starve.
The bacon lured them until now they were following within feet behind him. It hadn't taken him a minute to notice that the pairs of eyes that trailed him were doubling in numbers. He knew he had no weapons, so he tore pieces of bacon off the slab and dropped them behind him. One by one the beasts nabbed up the pieces. The slab was getting smaller while the beasts were increasing in numbers but that was the least of his worries.
The higher he climbed, the colder the air became. It seemed he had forgotten that the temperature was coldest at the peak. As he climbed higher still, it became more and more difficult to move, even for the beasts that followed. The plants refused to live this high up. The beats began to give up on being thrown their fair share of bacon. He was now high enough that the snow was several feet deep, six-inch icicles hung from rock ledges, and before long, he found himself near the peak all alone.
He stopped to rest so he could light a torch to keep warm. He didn't notice his body turning blue, including his hair. He dug through the snow for a stick that he could light and a stone he could scrape against the flint. The sparks flew but the moment they were born, they were frozen in the air. Blowing onto the sparks did no good because his breath had cooled by the time it reached the sparks. They were unable to thaw.
Frustrated, he picked up the frozen pieces of fire and threw them from the mountain. He realized he was hungry, so he picked off a few pieces of the bacon. He reached for his gourd of water to wash it down, but soon found the water had been frozen solid. Angry, he threw the gourd from the mountains as well. It didn't seem worth climbing to the peak to plant the stupid flag anymore, so he climbed back down the mountain. The trail slowly warmed up the further down he went until he met up with the beasts. He hardly felt like dealing with them so he threw the entire slab of bacon for them to fight over.
Now because coming down the mountain was always easier and faster than going up, he was able to make it home very quickly. What he came home to filled him with horror. It seemed that a neighbor's house had been burned sometime during his journey. Thankfully, the villagers had managed to put it out. What remained was the charred frame and the blackened furnishings. He asked his family what had happened and they declared it was something amazing!
Their neighbor had announced her disbelief of the Summon Spirits to the heavens when she saw frozen sparks of fire flying through the air. By the time the sparks struck her roof, they had defrosted, setting the cabin ablaze. She recanted her statements, apologizing to the heavens for her disbelief, and a gourd fell from the heavens thereafter. The gourd cracked when it hit her roof and water flooded the cabin drowning the fire.
The boy looked to his mother and cried, "There surely must be Summon Spirits for I tried to use those sparks to light a torch and they froze like the gourd of water! My Origin control Celsius who freezes water, life, and fire! May He control Efreet's fire which can swallow houses whole!"
The boy's mother looked down to her son with a befuddled look and could only reply with, "my dear child! Your hair has been dyed to match the color of the sky! You'll never have your beautiful silver hair again! It's been frostbitten!"
And now, my dear friends, you all know how Yuan's hair came to be blue. It has since thawed and regrew, but his roots have forever been frozen blue. Rumors remain that he uses blue dye for preference of blue hair over silver, but I suppose we'll never know.
About the Tall Tale: It used to be commonly believed that telling lies about someone was the worst thing you could do to them. Kratos had told this tale about Yuan after he was upset with him, and wanted to get back at him in the worst way he could think of, despite the old belief had since been abolished as worse punishments and actions emerged. The tale was so popular that parents began telling their children about Yuan's trip as a bedtime story in the hopes that their children would A: Never forget about the Summon Spirits, and never falter in their beliefs of the Summon Spirits, and B: Not wander off on their own unprepared, least of all on the basis of a dare. To this day, Yuan has not heard this story as he was no present for its original telling. Please don't tell him or you'll suffer Kratos's wrath.
Notes from the Authoress: This was originally a part of Flight of the Jellyfish but changes have dismissed this tall tale from the story. I fear that I may not be able to squeeze it back in until my third draft. That saddens me because this is my favorite Tales of Symphonia Folk Tale. Until my third draft, I put it here for everyone to see and enjoy. More folk tales to come, so stay tuned!