As I drifted into sleep, my consciousness seemed to float into darkness. On the other side of the world, Earth appeared barren, enveloped in a silent, shadowy shroud. These prolonged nights were my moments of peace, a time when I could delve into my thoughts.

The Sun knew my name.

The revelation stirred gentle waves of bewilderment through my mind. I had always acknowledged the Sun’s presence, an enduring entity in the cosmos, present since my first day in the Earth’s orbit. Despite his celestial prominence my knowledge of him was limited to the single feeling of his warmth. I had never learned his name, nor had I ever been close enough to grasp the entirety of him.

Yet, I found myself irresistibly drawn to him, captivated by the Sun’s formidable essence. His brilliance was a steadfast beacon, perceptible even when out of sight, his impact undeniable. He was a titan of immense power, a sustainer of life. Within his radiant glow hid more than light, the sun was a mystery.

I couldn’t comprehend why he knew my name or what he thought of me. Amidst the vast, silent expanse of space, surrounded by distant stars, he was the one unchanging presence that sparked my curiosity, a source of warmth and enigma in a stark universe.

I watched, the stars trail behind me like a line of ducks. The stars were the souls of the departed, quiet and unthinking, existing in a limbo without consciousness. With a sigh, my eyes closed, the image of the radiant Sun lingering in my thoughts.

What was his name?

What did he look like?

Why did he know my name?

* * *

As Mahina, my moon, succumbed to her celestial slumber, I, the Sun, ascended to claim my place in the sky. My rays unfurled across the landscape, infusing the world with life, and rousing it from its nocturnal repose. While it was routine for me to ponder upon my moon, today was different.

I made a conscious effort to set aside the usual impulses that drew my thoughts to her. Instead, I focused on the immediate task at hand—illuminating the Earth, spreading warmth and light without distraction, and embracing the sleeping planet. This deliberate shift in attention, allowed me a rare moment of clarity, rest to understand what had just happened with Mahina.

I laughed at her, well more so at how adorable I found her actions. That night she was so fixated on the humans that she hadn’t realised how close she leaned in to watch them. It was cute.

I wish I hadn’t laughed.

Watching my beautiful moon stiffen her pale figure seeming scared of the sound, I felt pathetic. I scared the one that I wanted to talk to the most. It was a simple realisation, she too was scared of me like the many other orbits, it wasn’t surprising.

It just made me feel sad.

I cast aside the thoughts, millennia of longing vanishing as I fortified my resolve to start forgetting my Moon.

The Earth lay dormant below, her surface cradling the human race. Ordinarily, I would merely gaze at her slumbering form or observe my Mahina as she slept.

My interest in them had waned over time, after witnessing the horrors the humans were capable of from the first days of creation.

Seeing Mahina’s recent fascination with humanity piqued my curiosity.

What did she find so captivating about them?

The humans I remembered were vile and irredeemable, a stark contrast to whatever seemed to interest Mahina, unless of course she was intrigued in their horrific nature.

As I observed Earth, with its patchwork landscapes and bustling activity, I found myself intrigued by the diverse behaviours of its inhabitants. The land seemed better, and built up somewhat with small make shift homes.

My focus honed in on a particular clan moving away from the waters. Their deliberate migration, a stark contrast to the fluid rhythm of the ocean, piqued my curiosity further.

What drove them from the comforting embrace of the water to venture into less forgiving terrains?

I wondered, if their odd activity would offer a semblance of understanding into what Mahina was so intrigued about.

It was then that I saw it.

Horror and disgust twisted within me like a serpent coiling around my anguished heart as I watched the clan coldly abandon a small boy at the mountain’s base. His eyes brimmed with tears as he struggled to crawl after the swiftly departing figures, their faces devoid of any remorse.

Waves of anger surged through me, the heat of my own solar essence intensifying with my turbulent emotions. I took a deep, calming breath, exhaling slowly; wisps of smoke trailed from my lips as I tried to compose myself, dismayed by the cruelty displayed before me. This stark glimpse into the harsh realities of human nature challenged my understanding and tested the limits of my empathy.

This is why I stayed detached from these repulsive humans.

The voice of a man snapped my attention back. Though I couldn’t make out his words, my gaze returned to the Earth. A smaller clan had appeared, trailing in just as the previous group had vanished into the distance; the timing seemed almost serendipitous. I couldn’t gauge how much time had passed since the boy had been abandoned, but these newcomers arrived just in the nick of time. The child, appearing parched and exhausted, had sought refuge behind a rock. It was there that this new group discovered him.

The newcomers were deeply tanned, their golden skin a testament to their life under the sun, reminding me of my own radiant essence. I rested my head in my hand, propping my elbow on my knee as I watched intently. The men of the clan formed a protective circle around their women, while a petite woman darted forward toward the child. Her swift, caring actions contrasted sharply with the indifference of the previous group, bringing a subtle warmth to the scene unfolding below.

The sudden possibility that she might harm the child sparked a flare of annoyance in me, temporarily clouding my rational thought. My celestial nature, usually detached and observant, now churned with unease and impatience as I watched her approach the boy. The tension of the moment hung heavily, a stark contrast to the usual serenity of my cosmic watch.

Her gentle touch rested on the child’s head, her small hands framing his face as she murmured soft words of blessing. “May God bless you with the strength to continue in this wretched life, may he guide you to the place you belong,” she intoned, her voice sharp yet imbued with a nurturing firmness. The child’s eyes, previously dulled by despair, sparked to life, tears streaming down his cheeks as he absorbed her comforting presence.

With practiced ease, she retrieved some leaves and began to tend to his broken leg. Using shaved bark, she crafted a makeshift splint, a technique unfamiliar to my celestial observations. As I continued to observe, a man approached and addressed her decisively, “Devi, you will take the boy as your own.” Her response was a smile, warm and filled with acceptance, as she nodded and gathered the boy into her arms, embracing her new role with a serene determination.

This moment of human kindness, defied all the understanding I had of human compassion, it felt right that I taught myself a new perspective with these people.

“Chief Samson, will we move closer to the water and towards the shade?” Another male voice came, Chief Samson wore a fatherly smile as he patted the man on the shoulder; “We will”

He seems kind.

I smiled slightly as they began to look around.

They want shade.

I leaned back slightly, withdrawing my rays from a particularly dense cluster of trees nearby, creating a welcoming patch of shade. The immediate relief in their expressions was unmistakable, and Chief Samson’s warm, hearty laugh resonated with a genuine appreciation that filled the air around them.

“Thank you, Sun, you are a kind Child of our God,” he spoke, his words echoing straight to the core of my heart.

These words infused me with a sly sense of satisfaction. I pondered whether The Father would approve of my subtle intervention. He had long ago decreed that we should not meddle in human affairs, yet my actions felt more like a gentle nudge rather than direct interference.

As the clan commenced their migration, I observed their strategic formation with keen interest. The strongest men led the procession, a robust vanguard clearing the path ahead. They were followed by the children and women, encapsulated within a protective bubble of vigilance. The elderly came next, their slower pace guarded by additional warriors, ensuring no one was left vulnerable. Bringing up the rear was Chief Samson himself, overseeing the entire procession—a symbol of strength and leadership.

This display of solidarity and care within their ranks struck a chord within me. The meticulous manner in which they prioritized the safety of their most vulnerable members revealed a profound sense of community and responsibility. It was a reminder of the depth of their humanity, showcasing a collective strength that was about more than physical power; it was about the power of a community.

Witnessing this, I realized that perhaps humans were indeed worth watching over, their complex social structures and emotional bonds offering a glimpse into the noble aspects of their nature.

“Remember to thank God for his Sun and earth when you pick off the fruits from the tree” Samson said, his voice carrying over the group, a woman approached the Chief her belly large and overbearing with life.

“Suriya come eat” she giggled as the chief waddled over mimicking her little walk, he placed a strong kiss on her stomach and shoulders before gently pushing her to sit on a pile of soft leaves and feathers.

“You eat my love; you are the one who feeds the one that will come after us”

The stark contrast between the early humans and those I observed now dredged up memories from the dark period, a time when the fabric of humanity seemed irreparably tattered.

During those tumultuous days following the expulsion of Satan, humans had descended into barbarism, offering their own offspring to demons, and engaging in brutal sacrifices. Their actions were driven by blind hedonism, their minds dulled and hearts hardened against any semblance of empathy or kindness.

I could barely stand to watch as they inflicted cruelty upon themselves and the Earth. Mahina, my gentle moon, whispered solace to the Earth as she wept for her children’s atrocities. It pained me to see the Earth’s form grow fainter, her spirit diminishing as the humans she loved unconditionally continued to devastate her gifts, the lush forests burning under their reckless hands.

At times, I wondered if death would have been mercy for her. The Earth appeared so diminished, her once vibrant presence reduced to a mere shadow. She had poured her soul into nurturing humanity, yet they thoughtlessly ravaged her without a second thought.

A pivotal moment came when The Father himself intervened.

His immense spirit cradled the crying Earth, soothing her with words that resonated through the cosmos: “My poor child, cry until this pain leaves your heart. There will come a day when you will be just fine.” His voice, though powerful, conveyed a quiet assurance that was heard by all who dwelt within the galaxy.

It was in that moment I realized my anger was unnecessary.

The Father had the situation well in hand.

Following his visit, Earth mourned for 40 days—a continuous deluge of sorrow that marked the end of her grief.

Since then, the tears that Earth shed were no longer of sadness but of renewal, heralding a slow rebirth that might one day restore the balance lost so long ago.

After that moment, I chose to retreat and focus solely on my duties, my previous anger towards humanity dissolving into a numb detachment. I continued to provide them with warmth and light, fulfilling my role without the emotional involvement I once harboured.

Observing the Samson clan, I was struck by their diversity. The group was a mosaic of various skin tones, some members dark-skinned, others pale, as if they had embraced anyone they encountered along their journey, weaving a family bound not by blood but by a shared commitment to care for one another.

As I watched their determined faces turn tired, I realised it was time that I departed, the gentle return of Mahina’s soft lunar glow captured my attention, soothing the stillness of the coming night. Her presence signalled a shift, a subtle reminder of the celestial cycles that bind us all.

She’s coming.

“Goodnight, Mahina,” I whispered into the cosmos, a quiet farewell not meant for her ears but for my own heart.

As each moment passed, my gaze lingered on Mahina, now vibrant and fully resplendent in her nocturnal glory. Her light, though soft, cast a serene beauty across the world, a gentle luminance that seemed to quiet the chaos of the day.

I began my descent below the horizon, a poignant sense of longing washed over me. In our ceaseless dance, Mahina and I remained apart, our paths eternally intertwined yet forever separate, a distance measured not just in the cold metrics of space, but in the bittersweet moments of time we could never share.

This eternal ballet, beautiful and melancholic, was our shared destiny, marked by brief intersections and prolonged farewells.

I wonder,

Did The Father know I’d fall madly in love with my Mahina?

Did he know that she would eventually lead me around the earth, forcing my every turn with the want to protect her from the burn of my being?

Did he know?

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

Hello Dear Wanderer,

I hope you enjoyed :D, did you notice the formation it’s similar to the way wolves move in packs. I thought it was interesting so I added it hehe. Also the bible reference for the flooding of 40 days !!

follow my social medias for updates and

such 

@mothermarise and @planetamarise <3

Lots of love Mother Marise <3

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨