Selfish Sun, and the Mirrors of the Moons (short story)
Title: Selfish Sun, and the Mirrors of the Moons
Author: Yukito
Mist curled and coiled over the jetty, making the air feel close and still despite the expanse of open sea stretched out into the distance. Occasionally, a bank of purple-tinged fog smoothly rolled by, smothering the landscape in a haze that teased the senses with a seductive promise of peace and contentment. Like all things on this isle however, there was something jarring to pull a person out of the illusion so that they could think clearly, if only for a moment.
For Yukito, that happened to be the tiny octopus that face planted onto the rock beside him, catapulted out of the embrace of the water by a sloshing wave. The quivering cephalopod stuck there for a long moment, then slowly slid back down into the water below in an end over end tumble, thin tentacles flailing and gripping ineffectively at the rough surface of the uneven stone.
"There might be a lesson in that. I can't think of one. The most immediate one might be that I should have grabbed that octopus and put it on my fishing rod."
As he snorted at the thoughts drifting through his head, his fishing companion Daevian cast his line out far among the others being flung into the distance, "How about a story?" The Vaaloran elf lightly suggested. Yukito's brows lifted in amusement.
"Hmm. Why not?" He sent his thoughts directly, his lips never once moving save to curve in a little smile.
Lazily, Yukito reeled in his line, "Long ago the world was dark and cold." He relaxed into the tale, recalling his mother's voice as she told him the old bit of Sylvan folklore. Daevian tilted his head a bit, and aside from the croaking sound of a frigatebird getting choked out by a tentacle rising up from the depths of the ocean, it seemed to Yukito as if the world had folded in to only include the people immediately around him.
"All the spirits, and all the people huddled in perfect and eternal night. Chilled and frozen with barely and hope." Yukito reeled in his line completely and set aside his fishing rod so that he could properly focus, "But... there was Sun."
Daevian smiled and Yukito grinned back, gazing at albino-fair man before turning his gaze to the evening sky, "Sun was a very vain and selfish spirit of fire. He gloried in the praise and adoration that he received when he bathed the lands in his warmth and glory. The spirits and the people of the land would praise his face, because he brought life and warmth to them all."
People came and went as they fished and collected treasure from the deep, swept out with the tide. Only once was their peaceful interlude disturbed, but Daevian returned soon to sit and stare out over the water. Yukito continued murmuring softly into the other healer's mind, "Sun was selfish. And he would wander away, leaving those that needed him in lonely darkness for far to long, and far too often."
Beside them, Prolly whispered soft encouragement to herself as her fishing line strained, fireflies sparking around her as she fought to haul in one of the denizens of the deep. A thread of mirth spun into Yukito's mental tone for a moment as he continued, and Daevian gave her a word or two of support, "A family of spirits of the land wished more than anything to hold his light close. So these four worked with all of their wishes, and all of their strength, to create four, beautiful, and perfect mirrors. They worked in secret, and put all of their heart, love and adoration into their work. Sun eventually returned, and shone his light on all. But as always, he quickly turned away."
Yukito lifted his hands into the air and cupped them as if cradling something precious, grinning at Daevian as the older elf smiled at him, "The spirits lifted their mirrors, and reflected his light from where he stood far away. For he was so brilliant, and so bright that they were able to capture his light. And the cool beams washed over the land in silver radiance. All the people, and all the spirits kept this wondrous secret from arrogant Sun, knowing his temper."
Perhaps in a moment of portent, a tentacle slapped the rocks some distance away. Nobody flinched this time, as it was a regular occurrence at that point, but subconsciously, everyone on that section of the jetty moved a little to make sure they were far out of its reach. Watch enough birds tap out, and you learn fast.
Hands on his knees now, Yukito shook his head, "One of the four spirit siblings; The more flighty of the four - forgot to take down his mirror one day." Without missing a beat, the sylph continued his tale to Daevian in his even tenor tones, "The spirit rushed to pull it down from the sky when he realized, but it was far too late."
"Sun was enraged to have the mirror eclipsing his brilliance, and he smashed it to the ground, shattering it into tiny pieces. He found the other three mirrors, and in a similar manner, destroyed them. Leaving shambles behind, Sun turned his back on the lands, and did not return for a long, long while. The lands grew terribly cold, and everyone began to despair. None more so, it seemed, than the four spirits of the land, who had given everything of themselves to create their precious mirrors."
Yukito let the words linger a bit as Daevian frowned and took them in, "When Sun finally did return, it was with great show and pomp, blazing across the skies. Instead of his usual praise and adulation however, he was met with fear. In his desire to show his glory, he was beaming too brightly, searing the land and the people below. They had learned to fear him."
The waters churned and lapped at the rocks below for a moment before Yukito simply shrugged, "At this point, Sun realized that he could demand praises, but he would not receive love. It would be nice to believe that his better nature won out, but most believe that he was too lazy to put in the effort needed to rule that way. So in order to get what he wanted, adoration, he realized that he would have to share the skies."
Thoughts a near whisper now, Yukito murmured, "Sun turned his gaze down to the ailing spirits of the land that he had so wronged. Gathering up the broken mirror shards, he cast them up into the skies. They glimmered, and they sparkled, and they became the stars and constellations that we know today." A grin spread across his face as he shared it with Daevian as it was returned, "He breathed life into the darkness to guide our way."
Tapping four spots on the rocks between himself and the other elf, Yukito went on, "Then, he touched the land before each of the spirits and spoke their names. Liabo. Lornon. Tialok. Makiri. He poured new power into their drained bodies, and gave them new, and more lovely mirrors than before. Then he lifted those mirrors up, and hung them to shine in the skies."
His grin became a wry sort of grimace, "Each of the spirits of the land had their own... shall we say, personalities, that they brought with them as they ascended. For example, Lornon never forgave him his transgression, and her mirror is stained red with the hue of her rage. Still, When we look to the skies and the stars, we will never forget Selfish Sun, or the Mirrors of the Moons."
The story ended there, and the two parted amiably as the hour grew late, the tale usually told to draw one to their evening's slumber, but the half-sylvan left one last statement behind as silver mist danced across the island shore, "It is a good reason to not look at someone as if they 'Hung the moon'. Sylvans tend to think that expression is a bit.. unlucky."