Daughter of Three Suns
Chapter One
Three suns rule our world.
Grandmother Sun was the first. It was she who gave birth to the world and everything in it. Once, she was big and powerful. Her light so strong and fierce, none could look upon her face. She moved across the skies, sweeping all before her. But she was lonely. Using her great magic, she split herself open and our world and Mother Sun tumbled out.
Grandmother looked upon the world she had birthed. It was barren and without life. She pulled the rocks from the great sands and piled them into huge islands. She caused the water, which ran beneath the sands, to bubble up into large pools within the islands. Then she placed plants and fish in those pools. She made all the animals: those of the air, and the sand, and the rocks. When all was ready, Grandmother Sun made a woman and placed her upon the first bare-rock island.
Not much was left of her by then. She was no longer big and powerful, nor her face too strong to look upon. Instead, she was shrunken and small, her light a pale red. She gave the world she created to her daughter, Mother Sun, and charged her with its safekeeping. Grandmother remained in the sky, staying just above the horizon as she circled our land. To honor her, our blood runs red.
Mother Sun is swollen and yellow, her heavy bulk fills more than half the sky. Slowly, she moves over us, sharing her life-giving, life-nourishing, life-sustaining warmth and light to all the land below her. She is benevolent and caring, caressing our world with her golden light. Only when she finally rests below the edge of the land can her warmth and glow not be seen. Without her, the plants in our ponds would not grow, the fish that feed upon their roots would not exist, and all life on our world would perish. Our eyes shine gold in her honor.
Time passed, the woman aged. She was happy with her life and thankful to the suns who created it, yet she wished for something more, a companion who could share her existence. Mother Sun felt the woman's longing and decided to gift her with a basherter, a soulmate, who would share her life and end her loneliness. It took powerful magic––bright, strong, intense magic––to create the basherti. Mother Sun did not possess this type of magic. She called for help and Daughter Sun appeared.
Daughter Sun was young and strong, her magic full of life. She created the companion for the woman, but her help came at a great price. She demanded two things for her service. First, Grandmother Sun and Mother Sun had to leave the sky so she could rule in their place. They agreed but limited her rule to a short time so her fierce heat could not destroy the world they had created. And second, in order to prove herself worthy of a basherter, a girl must offer herself to Daughter Sun. Stripped of protective clothing, weapons, food and water, the girl leaves the cool safety of her rock home and ventures into a world of blazing sand and scorching white heat. To find her Moirai, her destiny, a girl must burn.
This is the story of the beginning of our world. It is the tale told by our mothers, our aunties, and our teachers. The seers chant it during the Anamnesis, the remembrance ceremony when we honor our foremothers. It is a good story. It is a true story. But it is not the whole story. It is only part of what happened to our world.
In our long existence, we had forgotten most of our history. Discovering the rest of it, the truth of all our history, was the difficult task that fell upon my unwilling shoulders. I did not wish for it, but the seers said I was the one chosen by Grandmother Spirit to fulfill the prophecy and set the world to right again.
I did my duty, and when the task was done, our world was a better place. What I did changed everything, but it came at a great cost.
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AN: Hello everyone and thank you for reading the prologue to my new sci-fi/fantasy and adventure story, Daughter of Three Suns. I'm a big fan of classic sci-fi and have been reading some of my old favorites while staying home during this pandemic. Some of you will recognize themes from Dune (can't wait for the new movie!) The bare-rock islands and the water culture are from Andre Norton's stories. We'll have some shape-shifters and soulmates, too.
You'll notice some odd wordings and unusual terms, so a few explanations:
Basherter - singular form of soulmate, Basherti is the plural
Anamnesis - remembrance ceremony
Moirai - destiny or fate
Metanora - transformation or change
There is no night or day on this planet, so I've used "work or wake cycle" and "sleep cycle". Time is measured from one Anamnesis ceremony to the next, but this doesn't correspond to months or years. Just forget those terms completely. You'll also notice that there are no male pronouns or even the concept of male, hence the "it" when referring to the basherter.
There will be a lot of world building and character development. I hope you'll stay around for the ride, but if not, that's okay. I realize this story won't be for everyone. Donna, Lynda, and Denise read and encouraged me to keep going when I was ready to give up on this one. The talented Ipsita made the beautiful banner, and Sally found and corrected all my mistakes. She makes a good cheerleader, too. Much love and thanks to all of them. Postings will be every Sunday morning.
One last thing, the first few chapters of this story were part of the Jenny Rarden fundraiser so they will be familiar to some of you. Once again, thanks for reading. Hope you enjoy the rest of the story.
Janet