Work Text:
Fireflies buzz through a dimming forest. As Sol's light fades from the sky, a blazing campfire keeps a group of restless kids warm and able to see.
There's only two other boys on Buddy's log, but they're both jostling around him, whispering to each other and to other huddles of kids. Earlier in the day, there'd been an arts and crafts station that all the other kids left messy. But Buddy didn't, putting his glue, popsicle sticks, and construction paper neatly back where they'd come from, even when all the other kids left to escape the midday sun's heat by splashing around in the lake.
He toys with the craft replica of Juniper's Wagon he'd made, sliding it across the grass beneath him even though the wheels are just round circles of paper glued to the wood body. He imagines what it'd be like to be Juniper, riding along with Helio on that wagon. How he'd feel, forced to leave his home with only a wagon of crops to somehow be able to feed his family for weeks and weeks. He knows he'd trust Helio with all his heart and might like Juniper did, and he'd be rewarded just the same: a wagon that never ever ran out of food until Juniper and her Sol-loving family reached their safe destination. He'd believe so hard that even his mama after singing her heart out in the gospel choir for hours straight wouldn't be able to clean the wagon out clear of food.
"Alright, y'all! Settle down, Counselor Prim here is going to tell you a story," the head counselor shouts over the babbling whispers and giggles.
Buddy tucks his wagon away in his pocket, careful not to squish the wheels out of shape. The two boys next to him don't quiet down at all, continuing to talk about whatever they were talking about. Buddy nudges the one sitting next to him, Randy, who always has a shock of red running across his cheeks no matter how hot or cold or just right the weather outside is and a fiery head of hair to match.
"Shh," Buddy shushes, "Counselor Prim's gonna tell us somethin'."
Randy ignores him entirely, laughing at something Paul said instead.
"Shh," Buddy repeats, a bit louder. This time, Randy pays attention, turning around to roll his eyes at Buddy.
"Stop actin' like you're the Chosen One or something, like some know-it-all grouch," Randy whispers, spitting a little bit onto Buddy's cheek. Buddy flushes hotter than the campfire burning just a little ways away, opening his mouth to say something real cutting, like 'you're the grouch' or 'you're not the Chosen One either!' or 'I'm not a grouch'. Instead, he just gapes a bit. Randy rolls his eyes again before turning back to talk to Paul.
Randy and Buddy used to be good enough friends, Buddy's peepaw having once been business partners with Randy's. They hung out sparingly, but then again, Buddy rarely spent time with most people his age. Up until they were eight or so, they'd gotten along, but now that Buddy's nine and Randy's ten, Randy always acts like he's more grown-up or smarter than Buddy.
Before Buddy can figure out how to respond in a way that both kept the love of Helio in his words and said all he wanted to say at stupid Randy, Counselor Prim clears her throat and says: "If y'all don't want to quiet down, I suppose there'll be no marshmallows to roast over the fire or corn puddin' tonight at dinner."
Even Randy and Paul hush at that. Most of their parents never let them have lots of sweets, and summer camp is the only time they get to eat so much of it.
Counselor Prim claps her hands together, smiling wide. "Good! Now, even though Sol's left us to come back tomorrow, there's never a bad time to learn all about Him."
She sits as well, completing the circle about the fire.
"I'm sure your parents have told you kids to not look right at the sun. Now, why's that?" she asks, looking around.
Buddy shoots his hand right up into the air, not waving it about like he needs to be called because that's not polite at all, but quick enough that he's the first one Counselor Prim notices.
"Buddy, your mom and dad tell you why?"
"Sol made Himself so bright 'cause people kept trying to be like the sun and He made it so that they couldn't look at Him," Buddy replies dutifully, squinting at Counselor Prim past the glare of the fire.
"Whaddya mean, being like the sun?" Though Buddy can only really tell the general direction of where the question came from, he recognizes the voice as Peony, Paul's younger sister by a year.
"Well," Counselor Prim spreads her hands wide and from her fingertips, shapes begin to blur and move, and suddenly, in front of them all, a yellow circle hovers.
"If you kids have been lookin' at this fire any, you'll already know that staring too long at it hurts your eyes. If you look right at the sun for a bit too long, you won't be able to see a thing days and weeks after. Sometimes, forever. But it wasn't always this way."
"Long, long ago, Sol showed His face plain in the sky every day. Even from all the way down on Spyre, He was so great and big that us mortal folk could look up and know our creator."
The yellow circle expands and morphs into a patronly figure, tall and regal, white-bearded and stern-faced.
"But, there were some who wanted to use this knowledge for wrongdoing. Some forgot to be grateful for the gifts that Sol gave us, like His long days in the high summers, and remembered only His absence during the cold winter nights. Evil men looked up at Sol, thought Him and His followers to be fools, and tried to pretend to be the King."
Beneath the tall figure, smaller men quickly put on cartoonishly long fake beards and draw lines on their faces. Kids around Buddy point and giggle as these men squabble in little mirrors over who got to use what wig and whether their makeup looked just right. Buddy doesn't look down at the men. Instead, he keeps staring up at this image of Sol, hovering unbothered above the clamor beneath.
"These men went to different towns and claimed to be Sol, visiting the mortal world. They promised eternal days to tend to their fields and reap the fruits of their labor, but only if the townspeople gave up offerings of food and gold."
The men, dressed in their silly costumes, crawl up on top of piles of gold and corn, laughing uproariously. Some of them swim in pools of it, throwing gold into the air.
"When Sol looked upon the face of Spyre and saw these false prophets, He grew angry."
Finally, Sol's stern face morphs into rage, looking at the fools crawling beneath Him. Buddy holds his breath, knowing what's about to come, and squeezes his copy of the Holy Book tight.
"And when these sinners turned their faces to Sol's to gloat in all their material gains, He spread His holy light so far and bright that their eyes burned in their heads."
Suddenly, the wealth beneath these men turn to dust, and they fall, hands clutching at their eyes as they open their mouths in silent screams. People gasp, some jeer in disgust, lots whoop in delight. Buddy stays quiet, waiting for the end of the tale.
"These arrogant men never saw a ray of sun again. And after that moment, Sol decided that no mortal should ever see Him fully, so that we would not grow arrogant enough to follow the paths of these wrongdoers. And that's why, even now, none of us can look right at the sun without living in darkness for the rest of our mortal lives."
Sol's towering form morphs back into a yellow sphere, and as Counselor Prim closes her hands, it bursts into a shower of light that quickly sparkles away.
Buddy doesn't understand how people dressing up in silly costumes could trick whole villages of people. Surely at least one believer in the crowd would have enough faith in the Lord that they'd spot a sinner like that without a second glance. Still, he doesn't bother Counselor Prim to ask. After the campfire story is dinner time, and after that is marshmallows, and even a member of the flock as devoted as Buddy doesn't want to delay marshmallows any more than humanly possible.