The sky turned black. The world fell silent.Zerta had been out along the ridgetop, looking for materials for painting. Her paints required crushed minerals for the pigments, orpiment and ochre and green earth. Some of them she had to trade for with a merchant who passed through on occasion; the rest she could source locally, from this ridgetop and its colorfully striped rocks.
On this occasion, she had assistance: Xhemal rode on her back up the long, steep hill; once they reached the top, the raccoon hopped off and started rummaging through the rocks for promising looking rocks, holding them up to his eye, grunting with approval, and throwing them in the basket—or shaking his head and tossing them aside. He had a very good eye for material, being much closer to the ground. In order to look at the stones, Zerta had to either kneel on the ground or grab a rock with her mouth and hold it up to her chest—and not every rock here was one she wanted to put in her mouth.
Zerta noticed the sky first. She reared onto her hind legs, lifting her head out of the way to get a good look. The movement did not go unnoticed. Xhemal leaned back, lifting a hand to his chest to shade his eye. “What on earth…?”
The sky was dimmer now than it had been a few minutes ago, when the sun shone unimpeded in a crystal-clear sky. But more distressing, far more distressing, than that was the bite taken out of the sun. Zerta swallowed hard and let her hooves fall to the ground. “We need to leave,” she said, her voice tight. “We need to leave now.”
Xhemal blinked at her. “Why?”
Zerta pawed at the ground. “Never mind why, we just need to leave!”
She could see that the raccoon didn’t understand at all, but her companion didn’t ask anymore questions. He grabbed her tail and clambered onto her back. Once he was settled and holding onto her tendrils for dear life, she trotted down the ridge as quickly as she could. She would have preferred to run, she would have preferred to get out of there as quickly as she could, but the ridge was too steep. It was too dangerous. If she’d tried to run, more than likely she would have tripped and broken her neck. No. She had to take it easy. She had to remain calm. She had to take deep breaths, and concentrate on the ground in front of her. Uneven ground was difficult at the best of times, and with the sky dimming all the while, it was more dangerous than ever.
When they reached the valley floor, the chunk out of the sun was more noticeable. The sky was still blue, but it was darker now, much darker. Zerta propped her legs up on a boulder to angle her eye up at the sky and she shuddered at what she saw now: an evening sky during the middle of the day. It was almost noon. But the sun was disappearing, little by little.
Xhemal patted her on the head. “I didn’t hear that, what are you saying?”
Zerta shook her head. “What?”
“You’re talking. Under your breath. You’re saying something, but I can’t catch what it is.”
“…Oh.” Zerta lashed her tail. She had been muttering something under her breath, it was true: she’d been praying. Not her usual prayers, the gentle, benign, every-day prayers she spoke every moonrise and moonset. No. These were the prayers of the terrified. And she was terrified. How could she not be?! Night was taking over day, the sun was disappearing! “It’s, um, it’s nothing, Xhemal. It’s nothing.”
“It’s not nothing,” Xhemal said. He patted her ears. “Your ears are all flat.”
Zerta shook her head and turned towards home, trotting towards the grove of trees on the other end of the valley where she and her companion made their home. “Yours aren’t?! How can you not be worried about all of this, Xhemal?!”
“Oh, I’m worried alright,” he said quickly. “Don’t get me wrong. But if this was a competition, you’d be taking home first prize. What’s gotten into you?”
Zerta forced herself not to pick up the pace even more. “Have I…ever told you about our beliefs…? My family’s beliefs, that is.”
“I’m afraid not, Miss.” His grip tightened on one of her tendrils as she stumbled over a loose stone. Her peripheral vision wasn’t the best sometimes, and it was even worse when she was panicking like this. “Does it have to do with the endtimes or something?”
Zerta shuddered, hard. “I wish you hadn’t said that, Xhemal…I wish you hadn’t mentioned endtimes…”
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you…”
She shook her head. “No, no, it’s alright, you weren’t doing it on purpose. But our beliefs…” She hesitated.
Zerta had left her family’s herd a long time ago, as soon as she was old enough to survive on her own. She hadn’t appreciated their comments, the suspicious glances they’d cast her way, the way they’d whispered behind her back. She’d been an ill-omen to her family, and she’d gotten tired of it. She’d left them far behind, but there were still parts of her past she kept with her. One of them was her faith. “It’s a long story,” she softly said at last. “But it’s a very bad sign. Mother Moon is eating Mother Sun…” She shuddered.
“That…does sound bad,” Xhemal said. He didn’t sound convinced, though.
“Self-eating,” Zerta whispered, unwilling to even say the word. “The eating of another of your kind—the worst taboo, Xhemal.”
“Oh.” This time, she could feel him flinching on her back. “Maybe Mother Moon doesn’t mean it…? What I mean is, maybe she’s not doing it on purpose. Maybe she doesn’t mean to do it…”
He was getting it. “She’s possessed. Or worse, corrupted. And if Mother Moon can be corrupted…any of us could be.”
“What do we do now…?”
Zerta took a deep breath. She didn’t feel brave. She felt terrified. A stone was crushing her heart, and her mind wasn’t fairing any better. But if Xhemal was scared—if her companion was in need of comfort—somehow, that gave her strength. “We’re going to drop off the pigments at home first. Then…then we’re going to stop this.”
A brief moment of silence, in which Zerta realized she could barely hear any sounds of animals. She quickly glanced at the sun, to see that it was disappearing fast, too fast for her liking. Then, finally, Xhemal spoke, and his voice was incredulous. “How?! How can we stop the moon from eating the sun?!”
“I don’t know. But we’ll find a way. I promise. We can’t let this happen. We have to stop this.”
By the time they reached home and had tucked the precious stones and materials away in their hut, the sun was half gone. Birds and insects were growing quieter and quieter. Looking in the trees, Zerta could see the birds huddling on their branches and on their nests, just as worried and scared as she and Xhemal were. As they trotted through the trees, she saw the frightened faces of squirrels and raccoons, all of them seeking shelter, holding their loved ones tight, watching the dying sun with apprehension. The world was ending, and no one knew how to stop it.
Neither did Zerta. But that wasn’t going to stop her from trying, no matter how hard her heartbeat was drumming in her ears.
On the valley floor beyond the trees, the dying sun’s last embers glinted off of streams and waterfalls. The world was falling rapidly silent, the sky was the color of blood. The world was empty. There was not a soul to be seen.
Zerta stared. In the distance, silhouetted by the madness of the sky, was a lone figure. A Soquili. One that did not run. Did not scamper or hide. Simply stood, as still as a stone, facing the sky.
Zerta stopped and knelt on the ground. “Stay here,” she said quietly. “I’ll handle this.”
“No.” Xhemal grabbed hold of her tendrils and held them tight. “No way. I’m not letting you go alone.”
“Okay.” She stood up again. “Hold on tight.”
“Holding on.”
“Good.” With that, she set off at a gallop towards the lone figure. She didn’t know why. She didn’t know who they were. But as soon as she saw them, saw the shape of them against the sky, she knew immediately who they were: they were the one responsible for all of this. They were the one that had started all of this, who had caused it all. If anyone could stop this…it was them. And she would convince them. She would convince them that this was monstrous. That it must be ended.
At last she got close enough to get a good look at them, just as dark as the sky. A stallion, whose only reaction to her arrival was to twitch his ear.
“Hey!” she called out to him. She tried to ignore the tremor in her voice, and hoped he hadn’t noticed it either.
His ear twitched. He was still watching the atrocity in the heavens.
“Hey!” she said again. She’d meant to come up with something inspiring to say, something eloquent, something prfound, something to make him immediately change his mind about corrupting the moon and killing the sun. But it came out…“Hey…stop it.”
It might not have been meaningful, but it seemed to have gotten his attention at last. “Stop what?” he asked. His voice was low, calm, completely undisturbed.
“…This…” Zerta lashed her tail. “What you’re doing to the sun and moon, make it stop!”
He turned his head at last, and Zerta finally saw her eyes. They were blank, black. His face was pointed vaguely in her direction. She was used to that, but something about it felt…unfocused. Like he wasn’t actually looking at her. The effect was…disconcerting. “I’m not doing anything,” he said. “At least…I don’t think so.”
“You don’t…think so?” She stared at him. “What do you mean you don’t think so?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “I mean, I don’t think I’m doing anything to the sun or to the moon. I could be wrong. But I don’t think so.”
She stepped forward, coming level with him. “What’s going on? Who are you?”
He dipped his head. Again, he didn’t seem to be pointing at her. “Aztezrial, miss. That is my name. As for what is going on…” His own tail twitched. “I confess, I do not know. It’s gotten colder, and quieter. But I do not know what is going on.” He turned back towards the sky. “All I know is that I was put here for this. This is the moment for which I was born. But I do not know why, nor do I know what to do.”
Zerta frowned. “The sun’s dying, Aztezrial. The moon is, is eating the sun. There will be no more sun, and the moon will be corrupted, we will all be corrupted, everything the moonlight touches…” She swallowed, and tried to convince herself that the frightened squeak she heard came from Xhemal. “You need to stop this.”
“I…do not know how, Miss. I do not know what is causing this. I do not know how to stop it, either.”
Zerta cast about. Her fear was slowly being overcome by morbid curiosity, but she could not afford to let it take her over just yet. “Aren’t you the one doing this?”
“…Maybe…?” He shook his head as if trying to dislodge a fly from his neck. “Maybe I am…this is why I am here. Maybe I am here to kill the sun? But I do not know. I do not know how I could be doing this…I do not know what I am doing…”
Zerta bit her lip. His voice was growing slowly more panicked, even as the sun was nearly fully devoured. They were running out of time. But as desperate as she was, pity stayed her heart. He was scared. He didn’t know what was going on here, either.
He’s not the one causing this after all. He’s just a witness, a bystander. “Do you…know anything? About what’s going on?”
He chuckled. “I do not know the slightest thing, miss. I do not even know your name.”
“Oh.” She closed her eye, embarrassed. “My name is Zerta. I’m sorry. I should have introduced myself to you. That was…really rude of me.”
“It’s okay. It’s natural to be rude when you’re frightened.” Aztezrial shifted on his hooves, bringing his body closer to hers. “But to answer your question…I do not know why the sun is going away. It’s too early for the sun to be setting already. It only rose a little while ago. It should be at its zenith.”
“Yes, it should be.” Zerta shivered. “Aztezrial…what should we do?” She made a face, hearing those words come out of her mouth. “What I mean is…I don’t know. I do seem to be asking you a lot of questions, don’t I…”
“That’s a question, too,” he said, but there was amusement in his tone. “Don’t worry. I’m used to being asked questions. I think all we can do is…wait. There’s nothing mortals can do to change the skies. That’s not how the world works.”
“Then you think we’re completely helpless? That there’s nothing we can do to save ourselves, and our loved ones?”
“No…I just think we can’t stop the moon from getting her long-awaited vengeance on the sun.”
Zerta had to turn her whole body to look at him. He was still looking at the sky. “You’re…what? What did the sun ever do to the moon?!”
“It’s a long story,” he said.
She looked at the sky again. “We have until the sun is entirely gone, I think. That gives us a little time.”
“I’ll take your word for it,” the blind stallion said. “Well, a long time ago…”
Mother Moon did not eat Mother Sun. After an eternity, with Aztezrial’s story long since finished and Zerta’s halfway through, a sliver of sun began to show behind the moon’s back. Little by little, moment by moment, the moon moved on, the sun returned, and the world returned with it.
Zerta watched Aztezrial. “What now?”
“She Who Asks Questions,” Aztezrial said, so softly she almost didn’t hear it. “I do not know. My moment has passed. My reason for being has ended.
Her heart slammed against her ribs just to hear it. “Please don’t mean that you’re going to…”
“No. No. But I do not…know what to do with myself now. Where to go.” He looked so lost, and Zerta felt her heart ache for him.
She had almost forgotten Xhemal on her back. He patted her ear, then leaned forward and whispered in it, “We have space in our hut for one more, for one night, anyway. So long as he doesn’t mind paint everywhere.”
Zerta nodded slowly. “Aztezrial…you could…come home with us…? With my companion and me? If you need a place to stay?”
His tail twitched. “You’d…keep an ill omen like me…?”
She nodded, then rolled her eye at herself. Silly. He couldn’t see that! “I’m an ill omen myself,” she said. “So I wouldn’t mind it so much. It doesn’t matter to me if you’re an ill omen or a good one. But if you need a place to stay, and I can provide one for you…”
He turned his head towards her, and this time she could see a smile on his face. “Thank you, Miss Zerta. I would appreciate that.”
And with that, they turned away and headed home…