Sun Sprites Eulogy Novels & Stories

LAUREL’s POV Death comes to everyone who is born. It is the natural order of things. But as my end nears, I have to ask myself this; knowing that death is inevitable, what is most precious to me today? The answer is painfully obvious. Helios. I wish to see him one last time. I wish to be able to tell him how I feel. I wish to let him know that the sun and moon rise in his eyes and that I have loved no one else but him throughout all these years.

The mirror cracked open. On the ridge above, the crater flared one last time. The sky turned the color of dawn even though the sun was still hours away. The light reached all the way to the horizon, touching the ruins of Aeloria and the sleeping forests beyond. For a moment, the world itself seemed to hold its breath. Then the glow dimmed, leaving only the slow pulse of silver from deep within the mountain. Nella lowered her spear, eyes wide. “Is it over?” Sybil stared at the crater, voice barely above a whisper. “No. It’s beginning again. But this time, the heart beats for both of them.”

Thinking of him left a pang of pain in his chest. Da. Ma. Eli. They were everything to Joseph. Da with his fount of knowledge of everything over and under the Tau Ceti sun. Ma with her sweet smile and the warmest hug he's ever known. And Eli, loud and brash little El-El; never one to back down from any dare her older brother would give her. Now ma lies silent, uranium slugs stitching her back, shielding Eli in their last moments together. Acting as a human shield for Eli didn't matter though; the slugs ripped right through her body, peppering sweet, little Eli just the same. He heard his da screamed a guttural, most primal wail Joseph has ever heard his entire life. He saw his da charge at t

Apollo, the Sun God, stood on a plateau of blazing light, the heat and intensity of the sun's core muted by his divine presence. He gazed across the golden expanse, where Jolene, his radiant fiancée, played with their children. The backdrop of towering solar flares and swirling plasma clouds only highlighted her ethereal beauty. Her laughter echoed like musical chimes amid the sun's roaring energy.

Liora’s voice was high and tight. She was still standing on her platform of light, but the shimmer was fading. She looked up at the black sun, her face a mask of primal, religious terror. Beside her, Helios was staring at his own dragon-glass gauntlet. The fire on his spear had gone out, replaced by a steady, dripping black ink. "The Eclipse of the First-Born," Helios whispered. He didn't sound like a king anymore. He sounded like a boy lost in the woods. "The Moon didn't just die. She hid behind her brother's shadow."

"I need to hear the planet. I need to know what I’m fighting for." The Song of the Sun They entered the rift. It wasn't a tunnel; it was a cathedral of fire. The sun’s surface was a roiling ocean of white-hot plasma, arches of solar flares reaching out like the fingers of a vengeful god. The ship began to groan. The metal was screaming. But in the center of the bridge, the six infants began to glow. They weren't afraid. To them, the sun wasn't a threat; it was just another frequency. They began to "hum"—a sound that bypassed the air and resonated directly in Leo’s bones.

—not of heat, but of "Meaning." As Chapter 111 closes, the "Oort-Static" hits the edge of the Sun’s heliosphere. The "Silence" meets the "Scream." For a moment, the entire solar system "Flickers" out of existence as two "Universal-Standards" collide. The "150,000-word" history of humanity has reached the "Event-Horizon." "Are we 'Deleted,' Avery?" Maya asked, her voice sounding like a thousand distant radio stations.

But as I reached the bottom step, a terrifyingly familiar warmth touched the back of my neck. I froze. My eyes traveled to the horizon. The sky wasn't the deep, protective indigo of midnight anymore. It was a bruised, bleeding orange. A thin gold of the sun was peeking over the edge of the world. No. Not now. In my past life, the "Eternal Sun" had been Edward’s favorite tool of torture. Even for a vampire, the dawn wasn't an instant death, but for a low-born like me, it was an agonizing slow-burn that blistered the soul before it charred the flesh.

I was finally free. "In my next life… I’m not coming back." My lips moved. Those were my final words. Then, the world fell into endless darkness. Tyler Clark died on a bright, sunny afternoon. The funeral was simple. Only Mom, Jonathan, and Mathias attended. Alexander didn’t come. They said he had been caught stealing, beaten, and left under a bridge with a broken leg. Mom’s hair turned white overnight. She lost her mind. Every day, she held Tyler’s photo, sitting in the garden in a daze and muttering to herself, "Tyler gets cold easily… he needs more sunlight…"