The endless symphony of night stars crashed, burning out of the sky. Earth was alive with the sound of fallen stars. Pressing your ears to the ground would entice you to the song of light as the world fell into night.
Over three hundred years had passed since the last rain of stars fell. We had not been prepared then. Did not know what we would expect but this time we were waiting. Waiting for our time to come and theirs to pass. It wouldn’t be long until they arrived, ploughing through our makeshift cities and towns. The only safe place left was the country. Even the rolling hills and endless lakes couldn’t stop them from reaching us.
You see, there were two types of people left in the universe. Those that adorned the cold silver jewellery furrowed into their skin that would explode into violent rays of violet when the Moon shined upon them. Then there were the those blessed with the warmth that the Sun brings. Our light glowed from the very inner core when the Sun beamed. When the religions broke down and science could no longer help us we looked to the Gods of old. Sol and Luna separated us once more as they did before the world of Hades and Osiris were created. No longer were we human. No longer did we worship Gods and Goddesses. We were born with either the element of Sol or Luna.
Sol folk thrived in the summer, as you would expect. Whilst Luna lovers would forever bury themselves into the depth of cold and night. Naturally, people started to relocate.
Except for my family.
I was born, like all Sol children, in the summer. My skin glowed with a sparkling warmth. Yet, when the light faded and night seeped over, my skin still radiated in colour. Only this time it was a purple tone that ricocheted from the silver etched into my skin.
It had to be hidden.
When the stars first fell over three hundred years ago, we thought it was the end of human destruction, the religions all loved it, ‘look how God is casting angels from the sky’. Then something started to happen. People were hit by silver shrapnel, but not everyone. Of course, the religions jumped on this again ‘look how our God has chosen the people he wants’. The stars went from fallen angels to God’s choice of the human race very quickly. That was until preachers weren’t chosen and criminals were. Then, naturally, these were the people marked for hell.
Complete nonsense of course.
The years separated the people. At first unintentionally, people needed to live where they could thrive in the conditions. Anywhere dark and cool. Families torn apart. When Sol arrived that’s when things intensified. Those not ‘chosen’ to be Luna folk were emblazed with a golden aura.
And then the world went dark.
Five days later the universe erupted with Sol’s rays reaching us once more. Only this time the golden aura stayed dazzling until the night arrived. That was Luna’s time. I believe both kin lived peacefully for many years, nothing was questioned. Until one son of Sol and one daughter met and never returned. Luna blamed Sol and as you guessed, Sol blamed Luna. The last point they were seen happened to be conveniently by a river. Washed up in the middle a large box with handles each side. Daughter of Sol and a daughter of Luna lunged to grab the handles. The problem they faced? One side was adorned with the mark of Luna, the other with Sol. Unless they worked together the box would remain closed. They chose to fight.
Our powers were awakened.
So, we’re still only one hundred years after the first people of Luna and Sol had been created. The next two hundred years each side spent harnessing whatever it was inside that transformed humans into the next stage of our evolution, and fighting for that box.
That brings us to now.
The falling of more stars could only mean one thing, more Luna children. More of Luna meant more of Sol. This was good for whatever war they wanted to fight. Bad for my family.
We needed to move.
A short beginning into the latest short story. I hope you enjoy.