The Legend of Cinnia

The Legend of Cinnia

         There once was an island, and on that island there was a village. Within that village, there were people. And amongst those people, was a woman. A very beautiful woman. She was like no other; her skin was as pale as the moon, eyes as complex as the ocean. Her laughter was a sweet tinkling sound that brought men to their knees. But the most striking feature about her was her hair, for it was made of gold, growing a sticks length with each passing day. It floated around her like a summer dress, as she refused to cut it no more than once a full moon. It was her hair that brought her her many riches; a beautiful home to live in, jewelry from the very depths of the ocean, and clothes made from the softest silk that there was. They called her Cinnia, after the Celtic name for "beauty".
         Yet her beauty lasted only on the outside; in reality, Cinnia was a selfish, cruel, person. She had no friends, she lived alone. When the people of the village begged her on two knees for a strand of her hair to buy food for their starving children, she spat at their worn, dirty faces. When the entire village almost starved to death because of a storm that destroyed their entire supply of crops, she refused to lend them a hand. A single strand of her hair was enough to feed a man for the rest of his life, if used wisely.
         One night, a terrible illness broke out in the village. By the end of the week, over half of villagers were in bed, unable to get up. They knew that the cure could be bought on the mainland, but the crops were poor and money was scarce. And so the remaining people decided to go to Cinnia and beg her for her help. She laughed in their faces, telling them that she had no intention of wasting her hair to save a bunch of sick people. She herself had a ready supply of medicine at hand, hidden in a secret cupboard beneath the stairs.
         So the villagers were forced to make a choice. They would do anything to save their husbands, wives, and children; even if it meant attacking one of their own. In the middle of the night, the villagers snuck over to Cinnias' home, grabbed her from her bed, and dragged her to the centre of the village, were everyone could see.
         She screamed and kicked, yet the villagers paid her no heed. "If you will not help us, then we must help ourselves!" They cried. And so they cut off her long, beautiful, golden hair, despite Cinnias' cries. They used her hair to buy the medicine that was needed, and all the sick people of the village were cured.
         Cinnia died of shame, as she was now no longer quite as pretty. But the villagers cursed her, as punishment for her selfishness. Instead of resting in peace, she was sent to the sky to watch her beautiful hair be scattered all over the world. For the villagers each took one strand of her hair, and braided it into their own. The hair continued to grow, and for each passing generation for the years to come, every single descendent from that village would have one, single strand of gold hair.
         It was a reminder of what they had done, and a lesson to all; if you choose not to give what you can, it's like you have nothing at all.