Honours the Dead had been seated at the bonfire for some time and had listened to the stories intently, ingesting all the information. It was not the story he believed and for some time he debated sharing - but it seemed selfish to take everyone else's stories and not offer his own in return. He cleared his throat, eying the crowd as he began to speak. "The sun is a curse." When the Earth was young, there lived creatures though none can remember what they were called or what they looked like. Only the moon lit the sky, shining brilliance upon all who dwelled beneath her. All were in awe of her beauty but there were some who coveted it - wanted it for themselves. They wanted to steal the moon and lock her away, carve her up into precious stones to wear and display. They wanted to own the moon.

No one speaks of how they captured the moon, out of fear that others will try and we'll be cursed the same. Or perhaps no one remembers. For half a day, they kept her tethered and began to take chunks out of her, handing them out. She wept and even her tears were precious jewels and they stole those, too. Everything they had worshipped, they took and it did not matter to them that they destroyed the beauty by breaking it apart. The moon who had loved them and provided them with what all the light she could, they cut her down until there was almost nothing left.

Finally, they had carved deep enough to find her heart. This was covered in solid rock, almost like a geode and they knew that whatever jewel lay inside would be even more precious than those they had collected so far. Only, when they struck it, light exploded around them, a heat so hot that those closest to it ceased to exist. It rose in to the sky and the world went bright with her light. Only this light was not calming and comforting they had known. It was harsh and cruel, it burnt their skin and withered their plants to nothing but ash. Those creatures, so used to the darkness and the cold, could not survive. Only those who had moved away to distance themselves from these.. monsters, safe from the light and heat, survived. Adapted. Evolved.

The moon's heart was broken. It rose each day, searching for its pieces and in the night, while sleeping, you can see how close she is to completion. When the moon is full, you may think she has collected all the fragments of herself and she goes mad realising that a small sliver or a shard has evaded her and shatters once more. In the morning, her heart rises and the search begins anew.

We have come to love the sun, for it has given us warmth and allowed our lands to grow and flourish. To us, it is a blessing. But to the moon, it is a curse. A reminder that she may never be whole again - that she was betrayed to those she showed nothing but love and kindness to.

The sun is a warning to those who may think to seek out the moon's fragments. Honours the Dead gave a nod to those around the bonfire. "Best not let the moon find you with a piece of her," he said as a warning and a few in the ground gave worried murmurs. "Who knows what curse she will place upon you."