The Sunbird
Once upon a time, in a land not too different from ours, lived a Sunbird.
He was the most magnificent bird you could ever imagine. To gaze upon his radiant figure would be to gaze into a dazzling rainbow. He was the true master of his desmesne, for as far as his wings could carry him. Some of his subjects even claimed that he was the ruler of everything his eyes could see.
A long time ago, before this story even took place, the Sunbird had been celebrated as a saviour, his birth had been clamoured to be the sign that all had been waiting for. For the Night Snow had been gripping the kingdom for decades, its black icy grip almost relentless in its destruction. The throne itself had been vacant for almost a generation, and people were despairing, yearning for someone to show them a better way to live than to constantly fight for scraps.
The rise of the Sunbird and his faithful followers, the Dawnwings, changed all that. The monsters brought on by the Night Snow were vanquished utterly, the few survivors running away to hide in the dark corners of the world. The terrifying ice fog that had paralyzed the kingdom for so long vanished soon after that, and its inhabitants could, for the first time in years, raise their eyes to the sky without fear. All of them marveled then at the blue canvas sprawling above their heads, a sight that had been stolen away from them by this long winter.
That they eventually offered the throne, and themselves, to the Sunbird was an obvious outcome.
He then spent a year and a day in quiet contemplation in a retreat nestled deep within the mountains, and there he got handfasted to the Sky Goddess, who had always favoured him during his fight against the Night Snow. Even in those days, she prefered not to manifest directly in this world, and that she decided to spend such a length of time with a mere mortal was an auspicious boon indeed. But alas…
In that moment, a seed of shadow was planted in the good king’s heart. For he could not let his queen go, even though her time with him was fated to end. At first he pretended to understand, and enjoyed her presence, her quiet warmth and wise counsel. They both ruled justly from their retreat, and the land grew prosperous, and its people were happy. But he kept asking her to stay, and she kept denying him.
Gently at first. Then more and more distantly.
Some say that the Sunbird started to change at that point. That he became more eager than ever before. He would offer lavish gifts to the queen, invite the greatest poets and artist to their court.
Some say that he wanted to shine so brightly that she would have had no choice but to give up on leaving, or face bitter regret.
And in this, the king succeeded, much to his dismay. The queen was as bound to her divine duty as the king was bound to his land. And her possible desire to stay had little to do with it. She left him a year and day after their handfasting, and went back to the heavens as the Sky Goddess. But on that day, a terrible and sudden hail storm fell upon the entire kingdom, destroying crops and sending beasts into a panic. Was it a punishment for having been pulled away from her duties for so long, or had the skies truly cried bitter tears of regret…?
But the Sunbird would never be the same. He was still radiating warmth and energy as he always had, but not a single smile ever graced his lips after that fateful day.
From that moment on, he reported all his affection, all his attention on his subjects. He wanted to be there for them, to be sure they would be well-fed, comfortable and happy. He renamed the Dawnwing the Eyes of Zenith, and each of them was given instruction to wander the kindgom and help those in need, whatever the cost.
And for a while, for a long while, the land grew bounteous, its cities became renowned for their beautiful architecture, and their peaceful atmosphere. With the ever zealous Sunbird sitting on the throne, and his servants working diligently all over the kingdom, it was as if the Night Snow had been nothing but a bad dream.
But the dark seed that had been planted in the king’s breast had sprouted on the day his queen had left him, and had grown along with his kingdom. Slowly at first. Silently.
As the years passed, and the glory of his reign kept on basking his subjects with warmth, the Sunbird remained as stern as ever. His blazing eyes more and more were attracted by the heavens. He would surround himself with wondrous depictions of the Sky Goddess, tapestries of nebulous horizons, entertain musicians who would regale him with tales of unending love and devotion.
And yet it wasn’t enough. For all his accomplishments, all his good deeds, his queen would never come back.
A poet and philosopher had the misfortune of telling him one evening. And that was enough to summon a storm of clouds over the king’s usually radiant figure. The entire court fell silent as they watched their lord’s furious mien, and fear seized their hearts as they felt something breaking silently within them.
The Sunbird ordered the poet to be thrown out of the castle, never to be allowed in one of his cities ever again. His voice boomed across the castle walls for hours, making the mortar shake and the stone quake as if in fright. And afterwards, a heavy silence reigned, as if the land itself was holding its breath.
In the months that followed, a new, harsh set of rules was edicted by the king. Freedom of speech was restricted, and any sign of discontent was to be pointed out, for ‘the safety of the realm’. And little by little, a gloomy pall befell the kingdom, as its inhabitants started to wonder why their ruler had become so severe. Or why the Eyes of Zenith were now so focused on punishing dissenters instead of just helping the needy.
Those who knew either remained silent or quickly vanished, never to be seen again.
They knew that a black cloud was now visible behind the Sunbird’s eyes, a silent fury at what was now perceived as rejection, as betrayal. His servants were whipering of jails being built in the foundations of the castle, of the Eyes conducting interrogations there, hunting for anything that could prove that their lord’s anger was not misplaced.
Some of them told stories of their lord haunting his palace at night, breaking mirrors in fits of sudden rage, and chattering to himself, as if arguing with a ghostly, hated foe.
Is it any wonder that amidst all this upheaval, rumours of Winter’s return would spread among the land…? After what seemed like decades of this increasingly erratic rule, people started to see the Sunbird quite differently. And they slowly realized that the one they had acclaimed as a benevolent savior, was now nothing but a harbinger of doom.
And some of them started to prepare for the return of the long nights.