Death of the Sun

The God Morphe, God of Sleep and Dreams, spoke in this veiled form. But the voice that Pavor heard was his own, as if his own mind was speaking to him.

"Eons had passed, but I have not met a child of the Lumen. You are lucky, little one."

Pavor was not offended to be called little one, for in this god's eyes, he was but a child. Gods like him were beyond the comprehension of humans, and gods like this were beyond theirs.

Humans do not even know or worship Morphe.

They believed the land of dreams was simply their own creation, not a separate realm. Perhaps that is why Morphe speaks in the voice of the dreamer.

However, even though Pavor took no offense at being called 'little one'....

He took offense at something else.

"I am not a child of the Lumen, Lord of Slumber."

Morphe shifted, the creases of the veil changing and moving like waves. "Ah, you are right. I was mistaken."

The Dream God added: "Is the wolf who ate the sheep worthy of calling himself the sheep? Is a star that lost its light worthy of calling itself a star, and not just a rock in the cosmos?"

Instead of answering, Pavor just asked warily:

"Why did you choose to appear before me, Morphe?"

"I simply want to meet you, He Who Walks in the Shadows. You have corrupted Betwixt at your own pleasure with your demons, but such corruption is always welcome."

The formless God that is merely an iridescent silhouette turned into the shape of a crow. The kaleidoscopic patterns were now black, red, purple and green.

"For the only constant here is change, and any change is that of the Betwixt."

Pavor stepped back as a gust of wind came, and everything around him started to become distorted. Twisting and turning, as if watercolors that bleed into each other.

"I do wonder what it is that you will dream of. A sweet dream or a nightmare?" Morphe said using Pavor's own voice.

But the voice sounded distorted ever so slightly, the way the words were spoken were just like the bleeding colors around him. Echoing within Pavor's chest.

"But the only difference between sweet dreams and nightmares is how well you sleep at night when dreaming them."

Soon, both the Lord of Slumber and Pavor himself blended into the colors around them. Becoming one with the chaos of the Betwixt, until it was unclear if they were even separate beings at all.

In dreams, identity becomes null and reality becomes a charade.

When the first round of shifting was completed, Pavor could see a ceiling above him.

The ceiling was the sky itself. Stars twinkled and shone, and yet, he could easily reach them. Pluck them like ripe fruit.

"Father... W-What's wrong? Please don't leave us!"

He turned to the source of the voice. He did not know who this person was, and had never seen his face before.

"Father, please.... I am not ready yet. I do not know what to do without you and Mother."

Pavor opened his mouth, and the words that came out sounded unlike him.

They were melodious, sweet as honey. They were that of a singer, one who weaves the sounds that came from his mouth into something delicate and comforting.

"Fret not, Solis. You must have faith in yourself. To believe is to hope, and to hope is to turn the impossible into possible. We have existed from something that should not happen, light appearing from the dark with no provocation."

He pressed his forehead against the crying boy. "My morning star.... You are the first for a reason. You must always lead, and push forward."

"I am scared, Father....." The boy named Solis said.

"Fear….. like all emotions, were our creation. The first emotion that your mother and I have felt, opening our eyes in neverending darkness." The man that Pavor was embodying said.

He pointed at the boy's chest, his finger illuminating something within him.

A sphere, his core.

It was golden, serving as his heart.

The man said: "We have to be careful what we create, my son. Because it could never be destroyed again. Just like how your Mother and I are not truly destroyed. We are still here."

He pointed at the golden sphere. "Always here. As long as its light never burns out, so do we."

The boy continued to cry, and cling into his arms. "But Father.... I want you to continue existing this way. Not as the light within us, but around us."

"My child, all the lights around you are also us. The stars hold our essence, each beam that stretches for miles is our limbs."

The boy shook his head. "No, Father... You know what I meant. I do not want you to change. Stay as you are, as something I can feel."

"But once I have changed, I will be something you truly feel." His Father embraced him closely. "In this form, we do not truly touch. There is always space between us, space that makes us separate."

He put his hand up, and took his son's hand to press against it.

The difference in size was stark. The boy's hand was so tiny, barely the size of the man's palm. The father's fingers were twice as long and wide.

"Can you see it? When we ascend, you and I will touch each other perfectly. Aligned, in sync."

Glowing light came from his father's palm, and the boy felt it pervading his bones. Molding into his flesh.

"Your Mother and I are of the Void, and to the Void we shall return."

The light that came from 'Pavor's' own hand blinded him, until he couldn't see the boy anymore. Instead, he was.....

Staring at a reflection on the murky lake.

A reflection that was familiar. His pitch black hair rests on his head like overgrown vines, stretching out from his scalp and covering his face, his shoulders and his entire torso.

Only one of his blood-red eyes peek through.

"The sun has died."

He looked at his hand, and golden liquid dripped from a golden sphere in his hand.

He grinned triumphantly, holding the melting sphere like a medal. He looked up, and there was no sun above. Just a blood red moon.

"Solis.... You have met your fate. What comes from the Void must return to the Void."

He brought the golden sphere to his lips....

And consumed it.

Once he was done, he stood up. He looked at his hand, and a black sphere of the same size appeared before him.

This sphere had changed everything, turning the world into something dark and twisted.

The Outlands.

And then....

A voice, as melodious and gentle as the man from before said:

"What are you doing, Pavor? W-What is that….. Everyone, stand back! Pavor had created something dangerous!"

Pavor turned to the source, and his face shifted into that of fake innocence.

"I didn't…. It wasn't meant to—"

The black sphere in his hand got bigger and bigger, shadows from all around coalescing around it.

The voice shouted. "He plans to destroy us all! To destroy the world we so desperately created after losing our former one!"

Pavor chuckled, and threw the black sphere towards the source of that voice!

"Shut up! I have no reason to do that! Hahahahaha! Why must I destroy this world when I plan to create it as my own!? You foolish children of the light do not know anything!"

And everything shifted once more, the colors this time clashing against each other as if at war.

Purples, greens, reds, and black tried to conquer yellows, blues, pinks and whites. They went on and on at a dizzying speed, until…..

One color reigned supreme.

Light.

Shining bright, casting the shadows far, far back.

"Solis may have failed to protect the children of Lumen, but their light is in all of us. And it is not the bravest, or the smartest, or the most dedicated that shines brightest."

The light formed the shape of a dove.

No…..

A woman with wings.

"It is the one who loves the most that will bring light to us all."

The woman.... Her voice is much like the man before….. Produced sounds that were able to touch people through their core.

"To love is to believe....."

"To believe is to hope...."

"And to hope….. Is to make the impossible into reality..."

Pavor covered his ears, but the music passed through to him. Sinking deep into his bones. He was weak compared to this creature.

As he closed his eyes....

He woke up to a ceiling. This time it was made of marble, but he felt like the small, uneven spots seemed like stars for a moment.

Has the God Morphe finally released him from that 'embrace'?

Or is this just another dream?

"What is the illusion, and what is reality?" Pavor questioned himself, looking at his hand. Still feeling the gold in them.

Blood in his hands... Always there.

Though he could not see or touch it. It has become one with him the moment he consumes it.