Disclaimer: Surprise! Here's another odd idea from the one and only whatsamatta. This work is largely inspired by the fabulous ballet Swan Lake – which also gives it it's name – brought to us by that most genius of composers Pyotr Tchaikovsky. Hope you enjoy, and Hey! Arnold does not belong to me.
HA
Once upon a time, there were swans.
They were normal, in every possible way; simply the average swan. But legends say that these swans somehow began to feel human emotion – joy, sorrow, anger, hopelessness, and love. From those emotions, the swans manifested the power to transform into the creatures they seemed to mimic. At first it was only for one night, the night of the full moon. Yet over the course of several years, the changing became more frequent until they were swans by day and humans by night, every night, no matter if they wished it or not.
Whether by magic or something else, no one seems to know.
These swans had become so revered, so beloved by the people, that the wealth and royal of the City would bid to have their children marry the creatures. They viewed these beings as Deities, and a union with a Swan was a union with a God. As such, the children of this most glorious union were certain to become sterling members of society: a hero, perhaps, or a magnificent poet. A composer of unparalleled talent, or even leader of the majestic City.
The world, though, has a nasty habit of changing.
It was back when the world was green, full of life and love that the swans were adored. But with the wane of the Dark Ages, and the long wait for the Age of Enlightenment, the land had faded to brown. The time of the poet and the philosopher and the hero and the lover had come, and it had gone, and it seemed with each passing year it would not come again. This was the Age of Greed, the Age of Gluttony, of Sex and Scandal and the ruling faction a mere one percent in numbers, but ninety percent in wealth. The Age of Power; of desire and the devotion to it.
There was no place for the pure, graceful swans in this new world order.
After a forced mass exodus from the City, they began hiding, retreating into the forests they had long ago abandoned in favor of immortality and worship. And the wood received them with open arms, granting them sanctuary and allowing them to build a small community along the banks of a lake. They had everything they could need, although from time to time a few young swans would venture into the City, only if they remained quiet about what they were, for the people of the City, blinded by poverty and aggression, needed something to blame for their hardships.
And what better to blame than a God?
The swans would wait, hidden within the forests once more, until the time they could be swans both day and night again.
Forever.
– Excerpt from a Swan –