This is a story that the King of the Oil Monsters tells Rika in order to demonstrate a human's relationship with fate.... (RIKA DOES NOT TAKE IT WELL)
apple sun | quick summary
- Princess Apollonia hails from a desert city whose sun has never set! She is 14 years of age, and in those 14 years, she has become acquainted to these three fundamental Truths.
1. There had been a prophecy, and that was why the sun always shone, why there were never stars, and why people were always sent away every year three weeks prior to her birthday.
2. The Tutor was handsome, but she herself wasn’t pretty, for girls that wore glasses were never pretty
And,
3. Virgil was her dearest friend because he still liked her in spite the round spectacles she wore about her little face and in spite being a big-horned sheep with plenty of other things to do than talk to a human child. - On her eve of her 15th birthday, however, the Ministry pulls her dear tutor and fabulous inventor BOOKER SOLA'S name.
- The story follows Princess Apollonia and her golden ram companion Virgil on an epic quest to recover the beloved tutor.
SPOILERS
- As it turns out the Apollonia only knows Part Two of the prophecy: should people continue to be sent into the sun, then the sun will continue to shine another day.
- PART ONE IS... Should the sun stop shining the princess will know True Despair. THUS, the whole set-up was a deal that her parents struck up with the sun himself! A yearly sacrifice to keep the sun shining!
- Apollonia travels, and she sees a great many things and sees a great many people!!! Amoung the Unfamiliar things there are both nuggets of happiness... and even more sadness.
- STILL, Apollonia GOES FORWARD, dreaming of her dear tutor's rescue and that he will Love her when they meet... just like in the fairy tales. At the darkening precipice where her parents made the original deal, she catches up to Sola! And she shouts at him! That she is here and that she loves him!
- But, then he turns with eyes full of Bitter Hatred.
- Sola then reveals the true nature of the city--
- PEOPLE ARE SENT INTO THE SUN. YES. But, not only that, they are stripped of the things that would make their life worth living (ie their families, life's work, etc.) so that they would not suffer as the queen suffered when her husband made the Original Sacrifice.
- The only reason Sola was kind and wonderful in the first place was because he had a beautiful girlfriend and contributed to the city with his inventions! Now that that's all gone-- and for the happiness of a stupid little girl like Apollonia-- he no longer wishes to be kind nor wonderful. LAUGHS.
- Apollonia feels the bricks/foundation of her life Crumble beneath her, and she feels sick/weak from the realization of Everything. But, just as Sola turns to sacrifice himself, Apollonia calls out!! That she's sorry!!!!!! But, she doesn't want anymore people to die for her, and implores Sola to continue living.
- Sola stops, hesitating for a moment... Then awkwardly nodding leaves Apollonia to cry with Virgil watching onward. Under the *~starry veil~* of the evening sky, Virgil asks how she is and what she wants to do next... to which Apollonia replies that she feels terrible... But, she'll be fine, and that she still wants to see the world because she has much to learn about the curiosities of everyday living.
- VIRGIL NODS AND SITS BY APOLLONIA, wishing her a happy birthday.
prologue
Once, at a place far from here, at a time long from now there stood a kingdom with a sun never set. It was a strange city in a desert land with shimmery oven-hot sand for miles and miles that never ever cooled because night never ever came.
Every person had to wear very high shoes to keep the pads of their feet from purpling and burning and peeling away, or a shaded cap and veil about their heads when they wandered outdoors to keep their vision clear and bearable. Luckily enough, the city itself had a great many sanctuaries forged of marble and pretty tinted glass.
Much of the populace lived indoors.
Every person had to wear very high shoes to keep the pads of their feet from purpling and burning and peeling away, or a shaded cap and veil about their heads when they wandered outdoors to keep their vision clear and bearable. Luckily enough, the city itself had a great many sanctuaries forged of marble and pretty tinted glass.
Much of the populace lived indoors.
There had been a prophecy, you see, and that was why things were like this.
Prophecies are of the utmost importance.
This one in particular had been written in the stars, with bits of fallen space ice; it was upon the lips of every soothsayer, seer, wizard, witch, and warlock, within every crystal ball, toast slice, and tea-filled cup. Had Fate a figure and a voice of the literal sort, she might as well have been screaming this to anyone, or anything that could listen:
The day the sun does not shine will be the first day the new princess shall ever experience, true pain, true sorrow.
It had worried the king, and his queen— so much so that they both ventured to the edge of the world— through the desert of their lands, over three mountain passes, and across a waveless sea— to seek personal council with the Sun himself.
Prophecies are of the utmost importance.
This one in particular had been written in the stars, with bits of fallen space ice; it was upon the lips of every soothsayer, seer, wizard, witch, and warlock, within every crystal ball, toast slice, and tea-filled cup. Had Fate a figure and a voice of the literal sort, she might as well have been screaming this to anyone, or anything that could listen:
The day the sun does not shine will be the first day the new princess shall ever experience, true pain, true sorrow.
It had worried the king, and his queen— so much so that they both ventured to the edge of the world— through the desert of their lands, over three mountain passes, and across a waveless sea— to seek personal council with the Sun himself.
There at that precipice, they stood small, and insignificant (in spite their titles) under the stinging, burning rays. The king held his queen’s hand, and the queen rested hers upon her stomach. The warmth made breathing hard, for it scattered the air and made it heavy and dry and, though they were close, they were barely even able to see each other, for the light in the abyss below washed everything away in pure white. The queen’s fingers nudged at his thumb ‘Is this okay?’ ; he pressed back, ‘Yes, dearest. It is.’
--
He called out first, though his courage wavered in and out of his heart like a winding serpent. “There has been a prophecy.” “About our daughter!” the queen added.
"Yes," answered the Sun. The voice that flooded the arena carried upon it some dust of ancient magic, which presently caused the king and queen to shiver a little. "I’ve heard. I’ve seen. Is there anymore?"
"L-lord Sun, I! Rather, we, entreat you. You musn’t stop shining, if you’ve heard and if you’ve seen! We worry every night you rest, every moment there is a single cloud in the sky! She is our most precious thing."
"That is a very difficult task, dear king, dear queen. Have you any idea what you are asking of me?"
"Please, Lord Sun."
"Very well. But, you must send to me a single person, every year on this day. She, or he must be from your kingdom. She, or he must be in full-health.Then, she, or he shall fall; fall over the edge of the world and into my light. When that is done, I shall shine for the rest of that year. When the cycle of sacrifices end, I will stop."
The queen’s grip tightened, ‘darling! darling! Is this okay?’; he pushed back, ‘yes dearest. it is.’
He turned, pressed his lips gently on her own, and stepped forward. From behind, came an open, choking sob— and almost— but only almost— he felt sorry for it.
"I shall be the first."
He said this with all the confidence in the entire world.
—-
And so, the queen ventured home alone, through those mountain passes and several tundras of nothingness. She told the Prime Minister of her story who, in turn, told his assistant to call upon all the criers of the city and poster makers and Census composers and engineers.
A lottery machine was soon constructed— one with a great hollow glass sphere filled with smaller spheres engraved with the name of every citizen over the age of 12 years. The mechanism revolved about a perfectly centered pin without pause; it boasted of absolute randomness, and fairness—every person even the Prime Minister, even the Queen herself—possessed the very same possibility of their name rolling out of the globe.
It was certainly a formidable thing to look upon, but pretty enough for the thing to be set at the center of the city the following month. The crowd that gathered was somber, yet compliant. If their king had been so willing to jump himself (and he was a very good king), they were in no position to object to these turn of events.
All the while, the Queen had retreated into her chambers, her hand twitching and her eyes flooded with water as she pulled the curtains over her windows, blocking the reddening light.
She retreated, coming out only to bear their dearest daughter, to ask for food, or more blankets, and sometimes ask (but very rarely)— “who will go into the sun, now?”
--
He called out first, though his courage wavered in and out of his heart like a winding serpent. “There has been a prophecy.” “About our daughter!” the queen added.
"Yes," answered the Sun. The voice that flooded the arena carried upon it some dust of ancient magic, which presently caused the king and queen to shiver a little. "I’ve heard. I’ve seen. Is there anymore?"
"L-lord Sun, I! Rather, we, entreat you. You musn’t stop shining, if you’ve heard and if you’ve seen! We worry every night you rest, every moment there is a single cloud in the sky! She is our most precious thing."
"That is a very difficult task, dear king, dear queen. Have you any idea what you are asking of me?"
"Please, Lord Sun."
"Very well. But, you must send to me a single person, every year on this day. She, or he must be from your kingdom. She, or he must be in full-health.Then, she, or he shall fall; fall over the edge of the world and into my light. When that is done, I shall shine for the rest of that year. When the cycle of sacrifices end, I will stop."
The queen’s grip tightened, ‘darling! darling! Is this okay?’; he pushed back, ‘yes dearest. it is.’
He turned, pressed his lips gently on her own, and stepped forward. From behind, came an open, choking sob— and almost— but only almost— he felt sorry for it.
"I shall be the first."
He said this with all the confidence in the entire world.
—-
And so, the queen ventured home alone, through those mountain passes and several tundras of nothingness. She told the Prime Minister of her story who, in turn, told his assistant to call upon all the criers of the city and poster makers and Census composers and engineers.
A lottery machine was soon constructed— one with a great hollow glass sphere filled with smaller spheres engraved with the name of every citizen over the age of 12 years. The mechanism revolved about a perfectly centered pin without pause; it boasted of absolute randomness, and fairness—every person even the Prime Minister, even the Queen herself—possessed the very same possibility of their name rolling out of the globe.
It was certainly a formidable thing to look upon, but pretty enough for the thing to be set at the center of the city the following month. The crowd that gathered was somber, yet compliant. If their king had been so willing to jump himself (and he was a very good king), they were in no position to object to these turn of events.
All the while, the Queen had retreated into her chambers, her hand twitching and her eyes flooded with water as she pulled the curtains over her windows, blocking the reddening light.
She retreated, coming out only to bear their dearest daughter, to ask for food, or more blankets, and sometimes ask (but very rarely)— “who will go into the sun, now?”
