an elegy for the sun thief
this is the thief that stole the sun
CreditsRight art, Maraquan Ixi Bust, and profile picture colouring by candy, thank you so much! o3o
Profile picture by Milo, thank you as well!
Background from Mariposa
CSS by Sunlit
This is the thief that stole the sunThe angel had wings, but not in the common sense of the word: There were nine of them, artfully arranged symmetrically, gently curved around her like some sort of saint's blessing. If they were a color men would call the black, that that was not quite correct either: they were the color of moonlight on midnight oil, or the way light shone off a faceted diamond: all colors and none all the same, an enigma as the one they belonged to.
They dripped light, and not the shining, bright kind that pained the eyes, but the light of heat, that distorts images into memories of dancing flames. The wings seemed alive and buzzing with energy of their own, even if they were casually hanging- floating in the air, causing the surroundings to drip into void and nothingness.
The wayward child had found herself frozen still by the flames of the wings, their entrancing, forbidden colour, and their defiant curse upon her kind. She could only stare, with awe, with anger, with disgust at the angel, and felt the power in her limbs ebb away like the fading of the tide.
Clear, bright, and somehow clairvoyant, the angel's voice clanged against her bones, against the seat of her soul, and she could feel an urge to do something: she didn't know what, run away, hide, shout her anger to the heavens. Her blood was black and blue, she knew that, but that was her lot in life.
As wayward as she was, she was still young, short, limbs all gangly and disproportioned, she was not the one who tore the sun's altar from its place, she wasn't the one who brought a great fire to the land to scorch away the floods, she wasn't the one- she wasn't th-
Child, speak, what do you want from us.
It was not a question, not a command, but simply a statement. She knew they knew, what she was here for, what her people wanted, and yet they had forced her to bow until her soul was parched, and place herself before themselves as a supplicant. She held this fire close to her heart, so that none could touch her, could find out her true feelings. She opened her mouth, and her notes rang clear and true.
You are simply the Sun Priestess.
They are not yours.
They are ours, the angels', people.
Know your place, cursed one.
Her eyebrow twitches, and she fights against the impulse to scream at the angels and gods, about their golden thrones and silver-touched wings, about the second sun that stares into their crops, their souls, their shade. She has baked in its atrocity for a year now, slowly watching rivers and oceans murmur into a dying tide, watching wells decrease and dry up, the crops wither and perish. What people of the angels? If they cannot hear their pleas, then they cannot be angels, the stories told to children to calm them after a fit.
I, this repentant one, humbly beseech angels and gods as such: the primordials are dying, we burn under the light of two suns, we watch the crops wither and the lakes dry, and our children perish under famine and fate.
The angels whisper among themselves, a lively chorus of bells and chimes that she cannot comprehend, even with the gift of magic. She stands, cloak whispering against hard marble, enchanted by their song and tender lilt.
Tekyre, right hand of the gods, The Five winged angel of revenge, speak! Primordial, kneel before your judgement!
This is something we should remedy, for the primordials do not deserve their fate, and we-
Tekyre! Are you angel or mortal? Do not speak to us of your fantasies-
Silence! Do not interrupt, Chariet!
I cannot, this is heresy, Tekyre, how dare you say such-
Their voices cascade into the tongues of immortals, and she can no longer hear the chimes of bells, but now the chant of trumpets, the low notes of cellos, and terrifying drums from deep in their clouds. She has to cover her ears, and clenches her robes from fear of pain.
An angel appears before her, clothed in resplendent whites edged in silver and gold. With a flap of her five wings she hovers above the ground, and smiles benevolently. She places two fingers to her lips, breathers, and presses those fingers to her forehead, and she feels a zap of energy.
When I came back from my hiatus, I thought I had finished with all of my dream pets. A few days after I came back, I remembered my other goal: a Maraquan Ixi. Beautiful, flowing, elegant, and cute, in a fuzzy way c:
I traded a Woodland Peophin custom for one and completed my dream. I am rather ashamed to say this, but she was rotting away on my side account. She had nothing, no story, no art, not even a glimmer of hope. I had no idea what to do with her, she just... existed.
A few months later, I recieved a Valentines Petpet Paint Brush in an RE, and promptly burst out in crazed laughter. I put my first ixi UFQA because I believed in giving back when good things happened. I was torn between two lovely applicants, but I chose the one who I believed couldn't have created their dreamie if they wanted to.
Fast forward a week later, and I found Sunbond UFT. She was cute, but I didn't really want another Maraquan Ixi after the first, so I thought none of it. Sunbond's name was cute however, and reminded me of my own nickname on several sites, Sunlit. I decided to keep a close tab on where she would go. A couple days later, she was UFA, I applied eagerly, and the rest is history!
How I adopted Sunbond seems to be a tale of good karma and chance, and contrasts greatly with how I adopted my other permies: a lengthly petpet application, detailed descriptions of their future stories and characters, magnificent future plans and true promises mixed inbetween. And the one who adopted her out to me mentioned that seeing those on Tekyre's petpage was the reason why she had chosen me, and it reminded me that all of my efforts were not unnoticed.
then took its power and tried to runShe remembers the toll the second sun had taken on the land. But what she remembers most (and wishes to forget) are the bodies of the young dead, the timeless corpses, turned to long-burning fires by the sun.
The Sun Thief feels like one of them now, a thousand flames in her heart rising and falling, her breath coming out in steaming gasps like the pools she frequented. She can't drink water now, and she suffers for it, feeling the heat escape from her body and rise again, time with time suffering. The second sun screams a deadly song in her veins, and she can only surrender to her fate. The mountain around her burns to ashes, and she weeps to see the land ravaged like so.
When she ran back to the temple, she only stole away her most treasured possessions, the light emanating from her too blinding to stare at. Unfortunately, she has burned away most of the items into sad, charred crisps, and what remains is only her and a collection of magic-proof flasks.
The contents are hastily poured out, and easily eaten by the second sun, as greedy as it is. What she has to do, is to hide away, and she can't do that while her light is like a shining beacon. After a long time, she traps some of the essence of the sun into one of the bottles, and hears a tiny knocking against its edges.
Save me! Help!
That's quite odd, she muses, did they use one of their own as its power? But there's not enough time for that, because she doesn't have nearly enough bottled to trap all of the sunfire.
As her magic bleeds out onto the mountain, she gains an idea. If she imbues this magic to the earth, then it would be nigh impossible for them to amass such magic again. The mountain has already been charred, there is no damage. In and out she breathes, places a hand onto the earth, and channels her magic.
profileName: Sunbond, The Sun Thief, The Angel of the Moon, Moon Demon. Back when she was merely mortal, she was only known as the Sun Priestess, and before that she was simply a nameless street rat.
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral, a follower of her instinct and her whims, she cares not for good or evil and is true to herself and her own ideals.
Gaian Species: Formerly a human of the race of primordials, but now immortal due to the powers of the second sun. She has won a bet with Juya to not die for the mean time, although they are not on good terms with each other because she has stolen her enchanted flask.
Residence: Currently in the Rainfell, but she switches residences every century due to Tekyre's constant pursuit.
Appearance: She is short in stature, and has an aquarian and human form.
The Sun Thief: A Felian StoryA long time ago, when the Primordials ruled the lands and the Gods ruled the skies, the City of Sephilim was the grandest of them all. Arching gates and sandstone walls, while the Priest-Kings ruled from their Palace where the 4 great roads converged. This land of milk and honey was abundant in many riches, and many wanted for nothing.
The Last Priestess of the Sun God was an unassuming lady, having been upjumped from a mere sewer-child. She had curious magic ability, and could fuse the magic of different objects. This Synthesis was an unheard of trait, and she used it to her advantage by saying she was a child of the Sun God, who created all magic.
This was utter blasphemy, but the Primordials accepted her all the same, and gave her the position of her supposed father's Head Priestess. She used this position to destroy many magic artefacts in her experiments, and solidified her power on the state. At this time, she was the most powerful Primoridal in the city, and gathered all of the magic stones for a magical experiment that was supposed to increase the magic power of the Primordials. They ate up this lie like a delicious morsel, and all the while the Sun Thief continued to scheme.
Back then, this land had two suns and no moon: for they did not require sleep as we mortals do. The Sun Thief requested an audience with the gods (which was accepted) and she was ushered to them. Angels gathered around as well, curious about this little lady who had magic unheard of. Word was that she was meant to be made an angel, but alas! It never fruited, as the Sun Thief produced a curious ball of rock, no larger than a snowball.
All the angels were curious to see what it was, but no sooner than she pulled it out, all of the gods were turned to stone, and their magic was lost. The Angles cried and wept tears of blood, for their lifeblood was magic and without it they too were mere mortals, and harmed by magic. Their screams echoed and resounded through the great heavens, but their gods were now mute and could not answer their pleas.
After a long eternity, the rock was gone, and with it, the Sun Priestess. They all felt a chill in the air, and the day was dimmer, for a sun had been taken! The night came, and so did the moon: and while the Gods tried to destory it, they could only spark off a few glimmers of stars, for the magic that created the moon was their antithesis.
The Celestials moved swiftly into action, threatning death to all the primordials, so that the Sun Thief could be brought to justice. But she was not in Sephilim, nor the lands of the Primordials, nor anywhere to be found. In their anger, they culled the Primordials, except for those protected by the deep ones.
So came the age of mortals: those created by the gods with limited magic, so they could never again rebel. Humans ruled the lands now, but the worship of gods and angels faded as the gods did: for they could not live in cold lands, or use their magic with the moon about. The only one left is Tekyre, our patron Goddess.
she ran to the stars and flew so highSunbond feeds the fire with a bit of flair, and the fire bursts into life, with glorious flames the color of thrones and crowns, of angel's tears and of the regrets they made. The moon is at its zenith, and Sunbond is feeling festive today, even giving Poysion a flask of sun-fire to keep warm by.
Mother, mother tell me a story!
The thief looks at her with lidded eyes, and looks out the window to the moon and stars. She tips the flask, and nods agreement.
A long time ago, before the first age of men, before the first age of primordials, existed the angels. They were great beings, six throated, with eyes that shone like the sea, and secrets hidden like its depth, boundless and infinite. Their song captivated the gods, and their looks rivalled the gods, and the gods were furious, that something they had created in their image could be so much more beautiful than them.
However, the gods were benevolent, and only made minor changes to the second angels: They fashioned new eyes wholly from the black of sin, new skin from the shine of pearls, new speech from the chimes of brass cymbals. The angels were still beautiful to behold, however they were more sinister, more grave, and the gods were pleased about this.
Eventually, the gods languished in time, and so fashioned together the images of the first primordials after those of the angels and the gods. In return for the beauty the angels had been denied, the primordials were made less powerful and also mortal. The gods were pleased and created Gaia, the land below, for the primordials, to serve both Gods and angels.
The primordials who were created in the image of angels and gods displeased the angels, who were cunning kin, and thought of themselves as better than them. When wandering around Gaia, they laughed at the primordials who could not fly, who were chained to the ground and the whims of the earth.
When the gods created animals for the primordials to rule over, the angels saw the birds, and regarded them as their kin, with enchanting birdsong and the power of flight. Even though their song was not charming, and had no lilt to it, the angels were a proud race, and sought to make the birds their kin.
Oh glorious gods, we toil endlessly for you: Your whims are our commands, your speech our guiding light. In return, we only ask to have wings of the same kind as birds.
And so the gods gave them wings fashioned in the image of birds.
They were majestic things, the color of doves and ravens, with the shine of pearls, the sea, and the captured essence of light. They curved like birds wings, and terrified the primordials, who could not imagine such a thing.
But the gods were not happy that the angels had dared to do such things, and even in their infinite benevolence they cursed the angels, who thought themselves too high above the mortal plain. They had to teach a lesson to the angels, who dared to defy them.
From then on, the angels found that they could not walk without being pained in their feet: those who tried found their feet ground into hard, bloody stubs, and the angels wept tears of gold at their insolence.
but she still ended dead in the waterShe has been growing older for years now.
meets juya, gains immortality by swapping sun-fire
Come with me, and disregard the skyA Conversation between Tekyre and Sunbond, the last of the immortal ones
There are far too few of us.