"Oh no! Did we miss it?"

The old man smiled as a few young faces poked into their shelter. "No, the real story hasn't started yet."

The young boy who had spoken up pumped his fist in joy as he hissed out, "Yesss," before scrambling to sit around the roaring fire.

A couple other boys followed behind them as they jockeyed for a comfortable spot in the sand.

"Now," the storyteller looked straight into his grandson's eyes. "I want you to think about what I told you. Find the meaning in the words."

The boy looked down at the groove his feet had worn into the sand. He felt like the meaning was almost too obvious. So of course, that couldn't be it. "Couldn't you just tell me what you wanted it to mean?"

The storyteller let out a gentle chuckle. "That's not the point," he shook his head as he looked around at the young boys gathered around the fire. Before he could continue more drifted in and quietly took their places opposite of the old man. Everyone avoided getting close to him as watching the storyteller act things out was half of the thing. "Each set of eyes and ears hear something different. The same story can be hopeful, depressing, sad, happy, exciting, and boring. After all, I only bring half of the story to you. The rest comes from your own mind."

"That doesn't make any sense grandpa. A story is what happens in it, not how someone listens to it."

"Wait, what story did we miss?" asked a husky boy as he rushed next to the fire.

"That's no fair! I want a second story!" added in a gaunt girl.

"Yeah, me too!" suggested a particularly young girl.

The old storyteller stroked his chin as he said, "Some stories can only be told to the right people at the right time."

"Aren't we special enough?" whined a girl with frizzy ebony hair.

"I know at least I'm special, so where's my story!" pouted a wispy blonde haired boy.

"Now now, calm down." laughed the storyteller. "How about we make tonight special, and I tell not just two, but three stories?"

The children erupted in cheering. All except the storyteller's grandson who just looked irritated. Even though they had missed the story, their joy compared to its sadness frustrated him. Looking so carefree when Sun had been punished without doing anything wrong.

"So, you're not going to tell me anything?" his tone was accusatory as the boy glared at his grandfather.

The old man shrugged and pulled out his small round tin again. He brushed the colorful sand inside onto his gums and took in a deep breath. As he slowly let the breath out, he looked around again. All this technology. It's meaning and use long lost to them. He let out a sigh before he sprinkled a few grains into the fire. It roared up and spread-out colorful sparks in all directions as the onlooking children oohed and awed. His eyes fell onto his grandson's and for a moment they both stared at each other without saying a word. It grew quiet except for the occasional crackling of the fire and groaning of the technology deep beneath it. Both of them staring with a fierce determination but refusing to say a word.

More children came in and sat quietly behind the others. They all seemed a bit confused but didn't want to say anything in case they were interrupting part of the story. They'd all learned long ago not to interrupt if they wanted to actually hear the entire story.

The storyteller was the first to turn away. With a smile he nodded and blinked. He couldn't help but feel a mixture of fear and pride at the stubbornness his grandson held. That was definitely going to lead him to greatness, but whether it would be a great good or a great tragedy, well...that he could not tell.

The storyteller's eyes swept over all of the children as he said, "Now, I think a few more might be coming, but why don't we get started, eh? After all, three whole stories could take a while to get through."

The children cheered as his grandson stood up in a huff and turned to leave. His spot was quickly filled as more and more kids slowly drifted in, and many of them quietly fought over the spots closest to the fire.

The boy was frustrated. His grandfather clearly had something he wanted him to take away from the story about the Sun and Moon, so why couldn't he just tell him? Why did everything have to be riddles and problems he had to figure out? The promise was three more stories was tempting, but not after the one he heard. The joy on their faces just seemed to irritate him as a strange feeling twisted around in his guts. He pushed his way through a few stragglers arriving late. His sail was outside, and he figured riding across the desert at night would clear his head.

He grit his teeth as he grabbed the bar holding the sail. With one yank, it fell down unfurling the brown fabric. It caught the wind and started to slowly drag him forward. He didn't think getting the kind of story he was asking for would be so irritating. Maybe it was because it felt like neither Sun nor Moon really had power to change what was happening. Victims to destiny and the twisted minds of others. Their parents, their enemies, onlookers, everyone else seemed to push them towards the ending. He slammed his foot down on the kickstart and the engine under his board sputtered to life as he began to skip across the sand. He glanced up at the Crescent Moon above and snarled as the strange feeling in his stomach only seemed to get worse.

The old storyteller smiled as his grandson disappeared from his sight. In the ancient stronghold he saw the mass of children's faces. The future of humanity sat before him. Like his grandson, they would have to find their own path. All he could do was tell his simple stories and let them take the meaning they wanted out of them.

He took in a deep breath and with expressive hands began the story. "Long ago, humanity basked in an endless sun. Day never ended and crops grew year-round. There was no cold, no darkness, and even sadness had been banished! It was a time of great calm and happiness." He paused a moment and with a smirk added, "And then the sun went out."