The Player's Gift
This is Glowtide story from Waters Gather. This is Indi's telling, first told at Blazewing Eyrie's Glowtide circle in 2019. Songs for the Sun is another facet of the same story.
I've told the story before, of that first, longest night. Of the Singer-in-Silence, finding their voice and finding the straying Sun, calling it back to a city lit up bright to greet it.
But there's more to that story. Think what it must have been like in the city. The world was new. The Wanderer-gods and their folk, a new-found family. And, each day been colder and darker, no one sure what's happened to the sun. One of the gods ran off to find it, hard to say how long ago, with no sun to mark time.
Finally the song came, from so far off to the west. The sun was there, lost in glittery icy self-reflection at the edge of everything, and the singer couldn't call it back alone. But just that voice, that bit of hope, lifted the spirits of the Wanderers and their folk. Finally, everyone wasn't just huddling together for warmth. Finally, there was something to do.
The Writer-in-Flames kindled the most fantastic fires in the town circles, and the Sculptor-of-Pieces forged lanterns for everyone to carry their own bit of that fire. The Player-with-Light, easy to spot with their rainbow plumage and shining pelt, offered those lanterns from house to house, always happy to have a chance to be the center of attention.
With the Dancer-Between leading everyone through the streets, rivers of light filled the city as the Singer-in-Silence finally returned from the western edge of the world. They paused, to take a look at what their song had inspired, checking to see if everything was ready for their plan, to coax the sun back around from the east. The Singer-in-Silence looked around at the flickering yellow fire in every paw and on every face... and they said, as they often did, something no one wanted to hear.
"I'm not sure it's enough."
The Singer spoke more of the vast reaches of glittering icy shapes at the edge of the world, refracting and reflecting the sun's face into countless jewelled forms. Streets filled with warm light were stirring, but would they be enough to compete eith that, to convince the Sun to visit again?
The people and the gods huddled close, murmuring fearfully, unsure what else they could do. One set of eyes after another turned to the Player-with-Light, attention caught by the prismatic plumage that seemed like the nearest thing to what the Singer described. But the Player was only one being, no one had anything of the sort.
The Player-with-Light looked down at themself as well, at their glorious tail, and finally had a thought. Their paws ran down one of the feathers of that tail, and they grabbed hold. With a wince and a crack, they broke off the tip of the feather. It became a shimmering shard of crystal, catching the lanterns' light. They beckoned one of the surrounding watchers close, and tucked it into a lantern, where it cast a cascade of colored light outward.
The Player-with-Light nodded, peered at that tail that they were so proud of, and took a deep breath. "Everyone line up."
They worked through the long night, breaking feather after feather into pieces, setting them into lantern after lantern. Their strength waned along with their tail, and the other Wanderers gathered close, giving their support as they could, as the city began to fill with colored lights.
Finally it was done. The Player curled up, exhausted, barely any tailfeathers left to give, but everyone in the city had a lantern shining with unique, glorious, prismatic light. Colors played over streets, buildings, faces, and the Player-with-Light themself, who stirried, watched, looked down at their body, and saw themself shining with shared glow, just as bright as before, and just as bright as everyone else in the city.
The Singer-in-Silence gave a howl of thanks and confirmation, and began to sing again as they started their run toward the Sun, antlers hung with more of those beautiful lanterns. And, in the light of the Player's gift, it wasn't long at all before the Sun came back over the horizon eager to find what shone even more beautifully than itself.
