A peaceful place: Skjálfur
The Geysir Skjálfur was the king of the valley. He ruled over the other geysers, hot springs, and mud pools, who respected him and feared him. He was proud, powerful, and unpredictable. He erupted every few minutes, sending a jet of boiling water and steam into the air. He made a loud noise, like a roar or a thunderclap. He liked to show off his strength and majesty.
He had no friends, only subjects. He did not care about anyone or anything, except himself. He thought he was the best and the most beautiful thing in the world. He looked down on the other geysers, who were smaller and weaker than him. He mocked them and bullied them, making them feel inferior and miserable.
He especially hated the Geysir Blær, who was his opposite. Blær was gentle, calm, and quiet. He erupted rarely, and only for a few seconds. He made a soft noise, like a sigh or a whisper. He did not like to draw attention to himself or to bother anyone. He had many friends, who liked him and cared for him. He was humble, kind, and wise.
He saw the beauty and the wonder in everything, even in Skjálfur. He admired Skjálfur's power and majesty, but he also pitied him for his loneliness and arrogance. He wished Skjálfur would be more friendly and more happy.
One day, Skjálfur decided to play a prank on Blær. He waited until Blær was about to erupt, and then he erupted himself, with more force than usual. He aimed his jet of water at Blær, hoping to knock him down or to make him stop erupting.
But he miscalculated his aim and his force. Instead of hitting Blær, he hit a large rock that was behind him. The rock broke into pieces, and one of them flew back at Skjálfur. It hit him on his mouth, blocking his vent.
Skjálfur felt a sudden pain and a pressure in his chest. He tried to erupt again, but he could not. He tried to spit out the rock, but he could not. He tried to scream for help, but he could not.
He realized he was trapped and doomed. He felt fear and regret for the first time in his life.
He saw Blær erupting peacefully and gracefully in front of him. He saw Blær's friends coming to see him and to congratulate him. He saw Blær looking at him with concern and compassion.
He wished he could apologize to Blær and to the other geysers for his cruelty and his folly.
But it was too late.
He felt his heat fading, his pulse slowing, his life ending.
He closed his eyes and waited for the end.
The Geysir Skjálfur was no more.
