Sinless Sun Novels & Stories

╭──────────.★..─╮ Selena's POV ╰─..★.──────────╯ ⛧☾༺♰༻☽⛧ The sun was a merciless fucking bitch, scorching the back lawn of the mansion until the grass felt like hot coals under my flip-flops. I had come out here to breathe, to escape the suffocating cedar and alpha power of Jeremiah, but it seemed even fresh air was a luxury I couldn't afford. I spotted an old man slumped on the dirt, his legs splayed out like they had finally given up on him.

The sun had just begun to cast its golden glow on the horizon, painting the world with a soft, warm light. Beneath the rising sun, the two figures stood in a secluded clearing, surrounded by towering trees that whispered ancient secrets. Levi, with his lean and muscular frame, exuded an air of confidence as he towered over Selena, his eyes focused and determined. Selena, slightly disheveled and breathless, looked up at him with a mix of admiration and surprise.

When Mark was not around, she would go on her own, but today, Mark might go with her. “Nope,” Mark replied with a smile. “I’ve invented a machine that can cure your illness. You won’t need to go out to soak up the sun anymore. Your illness requires sunlight to heal because of an element in your body, and I’ve figured out how it works.” Selena was a bit surprised. Normally, she had to go outside or to the balcony to sunbathe. But today, she did not have to—this made her a little happy. No more going out meant no more hassle!

The journey back up the volcanic shelf was a silent, slow march of victory. The thousand elite Sentinels of the vanguard rode in perfect, tight symmetry, their star-silver pikes no longer held at a defensive tilt but resting upright against their leather-clad thighs. The dawn that broke over the Southern Sea was entirely different from the ones that had come before. Without the artificial hum of the True-Sun generator or the oppressive, sterile grid of the capital’s Sun-Shield, the morning sky was a soft, natural bruised-rose color, the cool ocean breeze finally carrying the scent of wild kelp instead of scorched oil.

Mortals hesitated, then bowed without breaking spines. “Don’t kneel long,” I said. “It’s terrible for the back.” Laughter cracked the solemn. Knees rose enough. The ridge exhaled. Selene stood on the broken stair, ash on her hem, bracelets like empty cages. She didn’t shine she looked like dawn after honest rain. A shadow crossed the sun no cloud, but Nytheria’s hair combing the seam, galaxies snagged on a tide no calendar owns. Light dimmed to eclipse for a heartbeat, painting every face in beautiful shadow.