Introduction
I'm writing more and more for the Shadow Appalachia Universe. Today, I started working on a piece that I found particularly enjoyable. It delves into the deep lore of Shadow Appalachia, exploring its creation and why it is the way it is. It weaves together quite a bit of real Appalachian history into a meaningful, and coherent myth.
I'm planning to eventually release a Shadow Appalachia Anthology. This collection will include the Father Gawain short stories, the Wormaid’s Lair short story, and some other unreleased pieces. It will feature flash fiction, Appalachian lore, legends, and other intriguing tales.
The more fiction I write and publish, the more I'm considering setting up a separate Substack for it. I've noticed that each time I publish fiction, I lose subscribers, which I understand. Most of you signed up for my musings on re-enchantment, not fiction, although I believe fiction is an expression of re-enchantment. But, it is what it is.
Until then, I wanted to share this new piece with you. Enjoy.
From Atlas to Appalachia
"Come here, William," Grandfather said, beckoning with a twinkle in his eye. "Let me tell you a story about our mountains, a tale that's been whispered through the leaves and carried on the wind for generations."
William scampered over, curiosity lighting up his face. "A story, Grandpa? What kind of story?"
"It's a story about how these ancient mountains of ours came to be. It goes back to the very beginning when God first molded the earth and sky."
"The beginning? Like when He made Adam and Eve?" William asked, eyes wide with wonder.
"Exactly. Back then, the world was a single, vast landmass. All the mountains we see today were once part of a great, unbroken range that stretched across the land. Our Appalachia was bound together with the Atlas Mountains in Africa, the Scottish Highlands, and even the mountains in Scandinavia."
"Really? They were all one big mountain range?"
"Yes, they were. It was a beautiful, mythical land, William. The Atlas Mountains bore the name of the mighty Titan, Atlas, who held up the sky and where Atlantis derived its name. The Scottish Highlands were a realm where magic flowed like rivers, teeming with fairies. And the mountains in Scandinavia were home to ancient, wise elves, their lore deep as the fjords."
"Wow, Grandfather! That sounds amazing. But how did it all change?"
"It changed when the first man and woman fell from grace," Grandfather said, a shadow crossing his face. "Their disobedience fractured not just their souls, but the very fabric of the land itself. The earth began to split and drift apart, and the great mountain range was torn asunder by the great waters."
"So that's when the lands started to move?" William asked, brow furrowing.
"Yes. Over time, these lands drifted away from each other, carried by the currents of the sea. Some lands collided with others, and in the chaos, ancient seas were trapped beneath the ground. That's why we have the salt mines today, like the ones J. Dickenson Salt Company still mines. Those salts are the whispers of the ancient seas, remnants from a time long forgotten."
"But why is Appalachia the way it is now?"
"You see, William, Appalachia is a place where the old magic still lingers. This land once belonged to that mythical realm, connected to Atlas, fairies, and elves. The essence of those ancient places seeped into the soil, the rocks, and the very air we breathe. That's why our mountains hold such mystery and beauty, and why stories of strange creatures and unexplained happenings are as common as the fog that rolls through the hollers."
"So, you're saying there's still magic here?"
"In a way, yes. The magic of the old world never truly left. It stayed behind, hidden in the deep forests, the winding hollers, and the misty peaks. It's in the songs we sing, the stories we tell, and the way we live our lives, always close to the land and its secrets."
"I never knew our mountains had such a history," William whispered.
"There's much more to these hills than meets the eye, William. Remember, every rock, every stream, and every whisper of the wind carries a piece of that ancient, magical world."
"Thanks, Grandpa. I’ll remember this story. It makes me see our home in a whole new way."
"That's good. Never forget where you come from, and always respect the land and its mysteries. It's what makes our home special."
"I won’t forget, Grandpa. I promise."
"Good boy. Now, let's get inside before your grandmother starts wondering where we've wandered off to."
And with that, they turned back towards their home, the ancient mountains of Appalachia standing silent and watchful behind them, keepers of secrets and legends as old as time itself.
Love this!