Eclipse

At the very moment the sun broke over the horizon, the boy was born. 

His sister took longer, waiting it would seem for the very moment the moon moved its way across the sky to eclipse the sun. 

Years later, the midwives would share how the mother pushed and wailed, but only the child’s head came, until the very last moment of the eclipse when the tiny body followed. Indeed, the women marvelled at the children. The golden boy, strong and sunny of disposition, and his shadow of a sister who had appeared like a surprise, having until the moment of her arrival remained a secret. She was a slight child, quiet and dark unlike her robust, sandy haired brother.

They named him Sol, as wherever he went, the sun shone and flowers bloomed. Sol attracted crowds of followers, begging him to come to their plantings, to bless their crops and shine his light upon their families. She was named Selene, and along with her came shadow and darkness, and the cool breath of winter. 

The same people who welcomed Sol with open arms turned Selene away, shouting at her that she had caused the death of their beasts, that her darkness shrivelled their crops. 

Despite their contrasts, the pair were inseparable.

That is, until one day a few turns after they had celebrated the sun completing its yearly journey. A horde of angry men had beaten on their door, demanding to speak with Selene. 

“You must leave here!” They shouted, brandishing all manner of weapons at her placid pale face. “You bring darkness and death wherever you go.”

Sol had appeared behind her, his warm hand on her back. 

“Sol! Save us from the darkness. Banish your sister, and let us live in years of light!”

The crowd had cheered and crowed, throwing bushels of golden wheat and corn, and armfuls of amber sunflowers down at the young man’s feet. Selene had looked to her brother, bright and shining, watching him revel in the admiration. Selene read his answer in the proud look on his face before he had even spoken the words of banishment. 

She had gathered a bag and walked quietly out of their back door. Her mother and father watched, frozen from their positions in the orchard gathering the sweet apricots that grew in abundance. 

She moved to her father and embraced him. 

“You do not have to go.” He croaked, holding on to her with one sun-browned hand. 

“It is best.” Selene said. 

She stepped towards her mother, and lay one hand against the woman’s cheek. 

“I will see you again.”

Her mother grasped her by the shoulders. 

“You arrived with us on your own terms, and you will live that way now. I have thanked the Gods every day since your eclipse, but they have their own plans for you, my sweet moonflower.” Selene held her mother and breathed in the soft lilac scent of her hair. 

As she walked through the orchard, Selene filled her bag with the sweet pale orange fruit. She would take this much from her brother. 

Selene walked away from the village, not looking back. As she climbed high into the mountains the noise of the celebration followed her, until all at once it trailed away, as though she had blocked her ears.

She wove through trees, welcoming the cool darkness and moss underfoot.

As she climbed higher and higher into densely crowded trees covered in soft green lichen, Selene lost track of how long she walked, the darkness enveloping her like a cloak. 

Just as she thought she could not walk any higher, the entrance to a cave appeared in front of her as though someone had just thrown their door open in welcome.

She walked inside, gasping at the glittering columns of prismatic crystal. Her feet crunched on the shards of tiny quartz coating the floor like stardust. Light glowed from different columns, the crystal pulsing as though with a heartbeat. 

Moving slowly deeper into the cave, Selene heard the gentle thundering sound of water. She climbed around a large column and held her breath in wonder. A small pool gathered at the base of a series of crystal pillars, water cascading from somewhere above. Vines and plants grew amongst the base, their white flowers shining like stars amongst the darkness. Selene saw Star Jasmine with its perfect delicate petals, the astonishing explosion of the Queen of the Night, and inhaled the deep spicy scent of the Tuberose. 

A small platform stood further off, and Selene walked quietly towards it, her hands cupping a Moonflower, thinking of her mother and her sweet childhood nickname for Selene. How she would love this place. As she reached the platform, a giant, pale green moth alighted on her hand, its eye-patterned wings winking back at her.

Selene made herself at home in the cave, leaving only to forage for mushrooms and herbs. The water from the pool was like drinking liquid moonlight, and Selene felt more at peace in this place than she ever had in the robust village, her strengths always overshadowed by her glorious brother. 

The years passed, and Selene enjoyed her gentle existence in the cave. She missed her parents, but had always been more comfortable alone, unlike her brother. 

Once, a travelling woman wandered, lost, into Selene's cave. She had been travelling to visit her injured and feverous father, and Selene had offered shelter and food while the woman recovered. When the woman left, Selene had gifted her with a vial of water from her pool, mixed with some herbs and powders. She implored the woman to give it to her father only when he needed to be released from his pain. The woman had looked into her eyes to thank Selene, flinching as she stared into the knowledge she was offered. She nodded her head, and Selene let go of the vial, wishing her safe travels.

After this, Selene was visited by women travellers wishing to make use of Selene's gifts. She listened to their stories, and sent them on their way, their vials filled up with elixirs and potions, tonics and sleep aids. 

Once a man had entered, intending to plunder and take, to force himself upon Selene and her gifts. As he stepped across a fallen column reaching for her, the light in the cave winked out, casting everything into a blackness so dark you couldn’t tell if your eyes were open. Selene had heard a splash, and then a gurgle as though some great beast had gulped. And so it would seem it had, as the glow crept back into the crystals and the cave was once again solitary. There was a small ripple on the smooth surface of the pool, and as Selene stared into its depths she gave it thanks, plucking one of her precious moonflowers and gently lowering it into the water. It floated on the surface like the reflection of the moon and then dissolved, disappearing into the inky depths. 

The years moved forwards, and Selene felt herself changing. Her hair reached her ankles, and her skin softened. She had long ago given up encasing her feet, but clothed herself in gifts from her visitors; shawls of soft grey wool and dresses that caressed her skin in shades of white and grey, black and silver. Once, a travelling woman had brought her a gift that played twinkling music if pressed, and Selene learned to dance, her feet moving in the crystal sand, her arms casting soft beams of light across the darkness. 

One night, as she swayed in appreciation of one particularly blissful melody a scent reached her nose and she froze. It smelled like sunlight and warmth, and could only be one thing. She looked towards the mouth of the cave, and there stood her parents, holding a basket of dried apricots.

She glided towards them, and embraced them, welcoming them into her home.

She noted their parched, leathery skin, and tired eyes. 

Selene fed them a feast of mushrooms and water spinach, watercress and fish. They drank mouthfuls of cool water, and sighed as though restored. As she gazed at them, soaking in every minuscule change, they spoke of the years past. 

They told her how since that last day, no darkness had fallen on their world. Every day melted into the next, the light not changing and the warmth never ceasing. At first, their world had blossomed in this warmth, an extended summer where crops yielded record amounts, and celebrations lasted for years. 

Eventually, however, the water began to recede, and the never ending light shone down relentlessly. Their crops turned to ashes and their cattle shrunk. Every villager grew skin like the toughest leather, thick and shiny. They slept only fitfully, and their food consisted of meat turned to jerky and what little fruit that grew became shrivelled and tough. As they aged, their bones creaked and their hair turned white and wiry. 

Her parents showed Selene their tough brown skin, their white, wiry hair. 

“You must come back Selene.” They begged her, their tough skin rough against her hands.

“It has not been long enough.” She replied, stroking their hands. “Sol would not wish it.”

She bit into an apricot and grimaced at the bitterness. 

“Our sweet child. It has been seventy years.”

She looked into their eyes, and saw the truth. Her years alone had allowed her to hone her gifts, and now she controlled them, she also knew when they were needed.

Selene gave one quiet nod, holding both her parents in turn. Their brittle, dry bodies felt like tinder in her hands, and she felt the truth of what her brother’s decision had cost them all.

She beckoned them into the pool, and they walked in gingerly, sighing in relief as their bodies were embraced by the silken liquid. As they dissolved into the water, Selene sent out a prayer to her brother, wishing for him her gifts of darkness and depths. 

Another seventy years passed. Visitors grew more frequent, begging for the release from the neverending heat and light which had long since burned away all the moisture from the village. 

One day, as Selene sat, staring into the depths of the pool a visitor arrived. A warm gust of air wafted through the cave, and Selene smelled the dry earth she knew so well.

“Brother, Welcome.” Selene rose to beckon Sol inside, but he stood waiting at the mouth of the cave.

She walked to him. He shone, golden and young as though not a single day had passed.

“Can you ever forgive me?”

His voice reached her like amber sunlight falling on water, clear and warm. 

Selene reached for him, and as their hands touched, the air around them seemed to shift and sigh in relief. 

“There is nothing to forgive, my brother.” Selene embraced him, and warm tears fell from his cheeks. 

“All things need balance” She continued, holding Sol at arms length. “Even us.”

As she let go, she felt him change. His body shimmered, and turned to shining motes of dust which swirled and danced in the air. The warmth lifted from the earth and rose into the sky, expanding like the very first rays of sun on a winter morning.

“Goodbye, Brother.” 

Selene had turned and walked back into her cave, her fingers trailing onto the great vines that had spread and covered the columns of selenite and quartz until all that could be seen in the darkness were the glowing buds of bright white flowers.

She walked into the pool, and held out her palms to rest gently on the surface. Selene took a deep breath, and as she breathed out, she melted into the water, her body dissolving like those before her. 

The cave seemed to breathe too and with its exhale, the opening disappeared as though it had never been.

From that day onwards, the villagers enjoyed long golden days countered by dark, cool nights. The ground took longer to forgive, it's hard baked earth resisting the drops of rain until one year the floods arrived, and soaked the earth until it remembered how to hold the water deep below its surface.

The villagers shared their stories of the years of the Sun, passing on the tales so the next generations wouldn’t be so foolhardy. 

This is why every seventy years the moon eclipses the sun. To remind us that all things need balance, and that we must celebrate the dark as well as the light, both on earth and within us.