a new dawning
Four days had passed since the closure of the Summit. Four long days where the sun had seemed to struggle to rise and set properly, had appeared shaky in the skies during the day. The world’s natural order had been disturbed.
On this particular day, the night lasted far into the morning. The moon had already set in preparation for dawn—but the sun had failed to appear. The seconds drug into minutes; the minutes seemed to last forever. The world remained dark; the sun was late.
But at the shrine of Oriens, light began to form.
It crept slowly into the carved rock of his face, illuminating the reflection of the sun etched into his forehead. The lines of his face began to glow, the light creeping down his neck and touching his legs, his hooves, the bands and symbols crafted onto his pedestal. As Somnus bows before the shrine, light begins to wash over him.
The god of dawn opened his eyes and looked around.
He saw the four empty pedestals surrounding him, the statues having disappeared in the preceding days. He saw the king of his own Court, head still bowed before him, as if unaware of the change witnessing before him. Oriens let out his breath in a long, slow sigh.
On the eastern sky, the sun finally broke the horizon, brought back by the god who so loved watching it dawn.
“It’s better to be late than to never try.” The voice is simultaneously young and old, youthful yet wise. The god steps down from his altar, testing the solid ground beneath his hooves.
Oriens paused, head still turned to the east to watch the rising sun--the first time in a very long time in an earth-bound body. The color blooming across the sky was reflective of the hues splashed across his own pelt and the sun marking on his dark forehead. His golden eyes blinked in the early morning light.
“You have got a lot on your mind, Somnus.” He shook his head slowly, finally turning to address the golden Sovereign. “It’s the curse of ruling a Court… and of starting a family. It takes an extraordinary individual to balance both.”
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