There once were four sister nymphs who lived in a river at the base of the sun and the moon.
The oldest had the most beautiful voice in the world. When she sang birds of all shapes and sizes sat themselves on nearby branches to listen.
The second oldest had beautiful, big eyes. They shone and twinkled in her merriment and never seemed to close in her wonder of the world.
The second youngest had long, shining black hair. She brushed it constantly and braided it with shells from the riverbed.
The youngest was the most beautiful, as the youngest tend to be. She had her sister's eyes and her sister's hair but still she was not happy. She did not have her sister's voices. She had no voice at all.
The youngest and most beautiful nymph was mute.
Her sisters tried to appease her in any way they could. They showered her in gifts of flowers and pearls and feathers plucked from the finest birds. But still she was unhappy. Finally, the eldest took her other two sisters to the side.
"Sisters," she told them. "Our sister is so sad. I believe I have a solution. We shall fly to Father Sun and ask him to give her a voice."
It was dangerous but they agreed their sister's happiness was worth it. So the eldest sang as loud as she could, hoped and prayed to Father Sun to hear her. The birds heard her pleas and came to her. "Sister Nymph." They chirped, circling her. "Sister Nymph, we will help you. If you sing for us, we will take you to Father Sun."
She agreed and the birds took her among them as she sang, flying as hard and fast as they could. Her skin sizzled and her toes popped as she came to him. "Father Sun," she said. "Will you grant my wish?"
He turned to her and opened his mouth and the heat of his breath burned the little nymph to death.
The second oldest and the second youngest watched mournfully from the Earth. "Our eldest sister is dead," said the second oldest to the second youngest. "And our youngest is still without a voice. I shall go to Mother Moon and ask her to give our sister a voice." So the second oldest climbed the tallest tree she could. She sat in the branches and cried out as she saw how far she was from the moon.
A family of owls heard her cries and awoke from their slumber. "Sister Nymph!" They hooted. "Why do you cry so?"
"My eldest sister is dead!" She sobbed. "My second youngest sister waits for me below and I fear my youngest sister shall die if I do not find her a voice and I am so far from Mother Moon."
The owls took pity on such a pretty creature that had eyes so much like their own. "Do not cry, Sister Nymph." They soothed. "Mother Moon is cold and terrible and shall freeze you with her stare. Go back and live in peace with your sisters."
But the second eldest nymph insisted she would not leave without an audience to Mother Moon. The owls sighed in their unhappiness and took her among them. In their wise hearts they knew what would happen but could not convince the stubborn nymph.
"Mother Moon!" shouted the nymph. "Will you grant my wish?"
Mother Moon turned to her and the second eldest nymph froze to death under her her gaze.
The second youngest sister nymph cried in agony when she saw her sister's eyes reflected in the moon. "My sisters," she mourned. "What shall I do now?" She cast her eyes to the river where her youngest and last sister slept peacefully. Something tugged at her long, beautiful hair.
"Come with me." Burbled the sea. "I will be your husband."
"Will you grant my wish?" Asked the second youngest nymph.
The greedy sea promised her everything she could ever want. "Jewels, pearls, shells and a procession of servants to brush your gorgeous hair." He told her.
The second youngest nymph believed him and took a deep breath, plunging into sea. He thrashed her about and did not allow her to break the surface. Trapped, the second youngest nymph drowned.
The youngest nymph woke alone. She wondered where her sisters were. "Sister Nymph," called the owl family. "Your sisters are dead! Hear your eldest sister's cry on the wind! See your sister's eyes in the moon! Even now your sister's hair is washing ashore! Her husband the sea has killed her!"
The nymph cried silently as she sat on the riverbank. Father Sun and Mother Moon watched from above. They did not mean to be so fierce and hot headed and cold and terrible. "Little Sister Nymph!" They called. "We shall grant you one wish!"
"I shall give you a voice that will put your sister's to shame!" Proclaimed the sun.
She shook her head no.
"I shall give you eternal life!" Cooed the moon. "You will never lose your beauty!"
Again, she refused.
"Well then what shall you have?" They asked her.
She opened her mouth and blinked her eyes and stroked her hair.
The sun and the moon understood.
The sun took her in one hand and the moon took her in the other so she neither burned or froze. They ripped the little nymph to pieces and scattered her across the sky where she stuck. Her beautiful black hair became the night sky, her shining eyes became the stars and her silent words became the winds.
And the youngest nymph was happy.