When the Sun’s No More
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An entourage of armed men escorted me through the streets of my home. Each bearing an obsidian spear and the garment of an eagle warrior. My procession headed towards the centre of our town, carving its way through stone boulevards littered with men, women, and children. All of whom stood rooted, silent and off to the sides. Only the sound of the birds and the nearby river assured me that I had not gone deaf.

In the sky was our beloved sun, already mostly consumed by a darkness which threatened to snuff it out. It was my job to offer a solution, something to bring back the lifeblood of our people.

No, this was greater than just my people. I was to find a solution to save the lifeblood of all people, of all animals, of all plants. The weight of the universe rested upon my shoulders, and the people who flanked me knew it. That is why they kept silent; they recognized the weight I bore.

The guards never looked at me, only straight ahead as we progressed. They were more focused upon getting me to the temple. They didn’t care for what would become of me once there.

I knew the temple’s reputation, and of the fate that befell the priestesses such as myself. We were sent to appease the gods. Yet, I felt no fear. After all, this was a risk I knew too well when I set out upon this path. I could’ve been a wife, a merchant, or a scribe. But I knew that the universe spoke to me and as such I would sing its songs and deliver myself to fate.

As we approached, a woman stopped us, taking a knee and holding out a small bowl of water. It wasn’t until then that I realized just how dry my mouth had become.

I softly thanked the woman and took her present, bringing the fluid to my lips. However, I soon discovered that this beverage was not water but liquor, and a potent one if the smell was to be believed. Still, it was a reinforcement of another kind, and as I downed it, I felt my nerves settle.

With that sorted, we continued forward once more. I watched the faces in the crowd, recognizing many. There were friends who watched in dismay as I proceeded. There were young men who had once tried to court me before I’d discovered my higher purpose in life. There were allies and foes alike. Yet, in this moment they all shared the same reaction. They were terrified and looking to me for answers.

I only hoped that I could supply them.

We reached the foot of the temple and were met by the high priest. He nodded to the commander of my entourage and, like that, the eagle warriors peeled away, leaving me to his care. I had known the man for years and knew he would proceed with his best judgement.

Together, we ascended the steps of the pyramid, heading towards the top. Our pace was slow due to his advanced age. I attempted to offer him an arm, for support, but he waved me off, as if my touch would be wasted on him.

So, we continued upwards, his laboured breathing offering another faint noise in a world that seemed stricken by silence.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, we reached the top. Not many people ever got to come up to this hallowed plateau. Few ever had the chance to see what was up here: tributes fit for a god, with gold, corn, gems, and other goods littered around a center-placed slab of obsidian.

Two other men were waiting for us, the high priest’s closest advisors.

The first came towards me, offering another bowl to drink. Like before, this one contained a potent liquor. Still, it would be rude to refuse a gift so I downed it quickly, feeling my nerves begin to bleed away, replaced by a pleasant numbness.

None of the men spoke to me. Instead they gathered together as they exchanged a few hurried words. My presence was necessary, but my advice was not.

I was not offended, I knew my role in this affair just as well as they did theirs.

By the time they had come to a decision, I was already feeling the alcohol’s effect. A numbness gripped my mind and body, and made my balance unstable.

Yet another bowl of liquor was offered to me. I thought about refusing but knew that it was likely going to be my last. So, I took it and thanked the man before downing its contents in a few burning gulps.

Together, the three priests led me towards the slab, their heads held low in prayer. I would’ve joined them but it took all my concentration to put one foot in front of the other, the world doing its best to jumble together and blur before me.

Finally, we reached the obsidian and the men helped me lay upon it. Once there, they stripped me of my tunic.

I inhaled through my nose, breathing in the rich scent of the jungle foliage, the reek of the town, and of the sweat that clung to the men’s skin in sheets of terror. The sun was going to die and any mistake on their behalf would surely spell doom for everyone and everything.

Together the two younger men began to chant, whispering prayers, wishing for the sun to heal.

The high priest instead grabbed an obsidian dagger, clutching it in his weathered hands. For a moment, I questioned if he’d have the strength to use this holy tool. But I knew that he would find it within himself, even if it was to be the last act he’d perform.

I blinked, looking up at the sun, my stomach dropping as I noticed that the darkness had pretty much consumed it whole, with only a few vestiges of life lingering on the peripheries.

The sun was dead.

I was sure of it.

But I knew I had a part to play if there was any hope for a rebirth. So, I breathed in slowly and began to hum a faint tune. Once I had established the rhythm, lyrics joined in. It was a song I knew from childhood, a song which had become integral to my work as a priestess. And in this moment, there was no melody more important.

I sang with all my heart and I noticed that my voice seemed to calm my fellow priests’ quivers. They seemed moved by my words, settling from their nervous high as they fulfilled their preparations, dressing my body with paints and other accessories.

My voice even held strong as I neared the end of the song and the high priest returned. He had been like a father to an orphaned girl such as myself. Yet, in this moment, he had a duty far greater than fatherhood to fulfill.

He lifted the dagger above his head and drove it down hard, piercing my body, driving the blade deep into my heart.

I let out a final choking note, ending the song with a pitiful gurgle.

As my vision began to darkness, I saw the blackness concealing the sun begin to creep away.

My sacrifice had been worth it, for a dead star was now in the midst of rebirth. Existence would live another day.

I could only hope for a similar fate.

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