No Light Burden


Photo © Sue Vincent

Saliente and Etalas were together from the beginning, when the sky was first created.  Like any old friends, rivalries developed.  Etalas was jealous that mortals work during his day, but relax and make love during Saliente’s night. Saliente resented Etalas for never visiting her.  When she visited him, she suspected him of shining all the brighter, intentionally making her look pale and weak.

One year at winter solstice, Etalas teased Saliente.  “Here it is, the longest night and shortest day, and do they celebrate you?  No, they hold grand festivals to beg me to come back.  The mortals love me more.”

Saliente grumbled, silently hatching her plan.  She crept closer to Etalas, day by day, going unnoticed, so small and gray she seemed.  Finally, she was close enough to attack.  She covered Etalas, blocking his rays, swallowing his light.  The world went black.  When she continued across the sky, heading back to her night, she left Etalas hanging there, dark and cold and impotent.

He called to her, pleading.

She laughed.  “We shall see how the mortals love you now.”

Saliente’s followers waited for her to return the sunlight, praying and making sacrifices, but the sunless days added up.  The people went from hopeful to worried to panicked.

Finally, high cleric Esquarto decided she must act.  Under the full moon, she gathered the younger clerics and acolytes around her, to help cast the dream of communion.

In the dream, Esquarto found Saliente.  The goddess had taken the guise of a mythical swan, filled with the golden light of the sun, floating on an endless sea of liquid night.  Saliente looked tired to Esquarto, strained, as though the burden filled her to bursting, but the priestess was wise enough not to mention it.

Esquarto stood quietly until Saliente recognized her.  “Speak, child.”

She chuckled.  It had been ages since anyone was qualified to call her “child.”  She stood straight, honoring her opportunity to speak directly to her deity, wondering why her voice did not shake.  “I have been loyal to the moon my whole life.  I have sought the nine passions, survived the nine journeys, and, now, been blessed with the nine dreams.  I have lived all nine phases, waxing to my fullest and back down to the last wane.  I am ready for the tenth phase, for the darkness.  But before I die, I must beg, for my people: return the sunlight to the sky.”

The swan tossed her implausibly long neck.  “Etalas disrespected me.  I cannot forgive him.”

“You don’t have to, to return what is his.”

The swan swam as she pondered this, leaving ripples in the still water.  “Is it true?  Do the mortals love him more?”

Esquarto considered her response, wanting to hold back, to give the soft lie.  But how could she not speak truth, her one time facing a god?  “For many, Etalas is easier to love, easier to understand, simpler.  He offers warmth and safety in our daily lives.  Dreams and fate are more important, but they are also darker, riskier.  We fear you as much as love you.”

“He will fear me now, knowing what I can do.”

“You can do much that he cannot.  Let him do what he does best.  Let him serve the day.”

Saliente sighed.  She was indeed filled too full, and aching with it.  She wondered how Etalas could hold such brightness within himself all the time, wondered how it did not burn a hole through his being.  She knew her people needed his gifts as well as hers, and she could not be both sun and moon.

But the sunlight had fused into her.  She could not let it go.

“Come, take it from me.”

Esquarto hesitated, drawn by the promise of touching a goddess, but knowing these would be her last steps.  She walked across the water, farther than she thought, for the swan that had appeared so small from a distance was in fact gigantic.

She whispered a prayer and touched the golden swan.

The swan burst with all the power of the sun, the explosion filling the dream world, sending shudders through every mortal heart.

Esquarto, absorbing so much divine power even in a dream, died instantly.  In the waking world, her mortal body shattered into shards of light.  Saliente gathered up the pieces and placed them in the night sky to form the constellation of the Counselor, so that Saliente could have her nearby.

When the next day dawned, Etalas shone as brightly as ever.  For a while, he was polite to Saliente, but soon they were back to their bickering.  Periodically, she reminded him of her power by eclipsing him, right in the middle of his bright, sunny day.  But since that time, Saliente has never again taken his light from him.  And when she considered it, she had the Counselor to remind her why not.

Written for Sue Vincent’s Thursday photo prompt.   It’s a new challenge for me, but I loved the photo so much, I had to try!

27 thoughts on “No Light Burden

  1. Great myth, Joy, with a lovely voice. Fits right into your world – did you have myths about Saliente and Etalas before? Did Saliente turn into a swan before or was this just for the pic?

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I love this, it’s as a fascinating mythology. Also it’s interesting the goddess who steals the day and light (sun), cannot keep both the darkness and light inside her, it weighs on her and makes her weaker. So I think there is an order to things and that must be respected, both day and night on their own, in their times. I like how her couseler becomes stars, the constellations guiding the moon when she seeks to overcome daylight. It would be terrifying as a human to havecmany nights with no days, when you’re used to both. Great write!

    Liked by 2 people

    • Thanks for the great comment, Mandi! Yes, Saliente has her own burdens to bear, but I think she was surprised at how it was to hold all the light that the sun does (maybe gained some new respect for him there).

      I’m fascinated by stories that explain why people perceive constellations the way they do. I have a whole series of “star stories” for Eneana, that tie into various legends. Maybe some day I’ll put them all together in one book.

      Liked by 1 person

  3. Wow, that is dense and elaborate, quite a weave you spin there, you ol’ spider! I don’t see swans here much in the Pacific Northwest. But they were commonplace, when we lived in the south of Germany. Good creature for a character to use, they look so stern and don’t Eff with me, like.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thanks Bill, nice of you to say so! I don’t see swans around here either, but they don’t see them at all in Eneana — they are mythical creatures there. I figured if I was going to add a bunch of new bizarre creatures as being real, I’d take some real ones and make them imaginary. 😉


  4. Pingback: No Light Burden – Joy Pixley #writephoto | Sue Vincent's Daily Echo

  5. Pingback: Photo prompt round up – Swan #writephoto | Sue Vincent's Daily Echo

  6. Pingback: Moon Maneuver | Tales from Eneana

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.