• Vol. 05
  • Chapter 08


There once was a god.

He was the sun and he burned gloriously. Every morning he would rise, sweeping away a curtain of blue velvet to reveal drapes of crimson.

The world became his theatre; the red curtains would part to reveal a powdery blue, thick with his honeyed light. Then came the show. A graceful performance. He would begin his dance, thousands of feet above the ground, lighting the stage from side to the other.

When the show finished, he would dip into a gentle bow, before the scarlet curtains drew back together.

He knew that he shone ferociously. He knew that he dripped with gold, and that the world would wither without it. That it dripped down to the earth, breathing life into the gentle loti that unfurled their dusty-pink petals every morning. Nothing could make him burn brighter.

One day he awoke, ready to begin his heavenly ascent. It seemed like any other day. He prepared his chariot, ready to sail into the clouds, yet instead of rising he found himself falling.

It was a sensation like no other. From the moment he laid eyes on her he began to fall. He felt helpless as he tumbled – as one would when they have never fallen.



As he fell, the rushing wind snuffed out his glow. Yet, his heart – it shone in a way that it never had before. For so long he had been golden on the outside. But now, he felt golden on the inside.

She met his gaze, her soft brown eyes smiling at him. But as quickly as she'd looked, she turned away. He was too bright. Too golden. She need only stare a moment too long and his luminance would blind her.

And so, his performance transformed. One night the red curtains closed on a monologue, and the next morning they opened to a dialogue. When her chocolate eyes fell upon him he shone a little brighter, and when she looked away he dulled a little dimmer.

The audience clapped. It was a wonderful performance. Dangerous and electric.

And tiring. Oh, so tiring.

The two ached for one another. To feel their hearts next to each other, beating in unseparated harmony.

One night, hidden by the blue velvet, he took a knife and carved away a limb. One-eighth of him, to be precise, fell away, turning the ocean gold.

The next day, when he rose, his illumination was a little less bright. Finally, she could look at him with undivided and unbroken love. Finally, he could stare into her eyes, long enough to get lost, unafraid of never finding his way back.

He could finally see her in all her glory.

She was golden. The light he never knew he’d been missing.

For her, he had shed his lustre, and yet, with her by his side, he was more golden than ever. Together, they shone brighter than he ever had before. Alone, he had glowed. Now, he was gold.