The Singing Sun

Prologue

"It is the ninth spiral. It is the boy's time."

And so the boy was taken afar, led by the arm of his mother. The long walk toward the mirror began. The mother's eyes gleamed with such subtle anticipation and excitement. Since the birth of the boy, she has been told countless times, first from the town's doctors, then from her family, and finally from herself, that the birth of a vessel is rare and the chances of her child being one were also nearly zero. This was obvious, this was likely, and this is the way; the way of the sun.

Yet as the mother, she could not let go of the sliver of doubt, the ounce of "But what if?" The child could be a vessel. The odds certainly weren't nonexistent.

Soon the mother, now completely forgetting about the dozens of simulations she has run through her mind brainstorming for ways to react as stoically as possible when the boy was concluded to definitely not be a vessel, filled her head with daydreams and fantasies of how the life of her family would take a great upturn if the boy were born a vessel.

All that time the boy was thoroughly clueless. He was aware that his mother was happy, and that was more than enough for him to broaden his smile during the entire walk to the nearest mirror.

The mirror was reached, and three hearers clothed fully in white from head to toe greeted the mother and her child. The boy was brought into a separate room while his mother remained seated on another room. The simulations and self-reassurances began once more in her mind.

"I will not be disappointed. If my boy is a vessel, splendid. If not, it's as expected."

The mother's thoughts were articulated as she now unknowingly started to murmur those words in a faint whisper.

The boy was still unaware of his mother's on-going self-contradicting mumbles. He sat silently on a chair in the room. The smile never left his mouth; the mirror was such a visual pleasure for the boy to witness.

Two hearers, from the three that greeted the boy and the mother from earlier, walked into the room the boy sat in. One hearer stayed behind to keep the mother company.
The other two hearers spoke to the seated boy.

"Hello son. I'm Eln, and this is Pyio. Do you who we are?"

The boy answered as he was taught to do so from his father.

"You're the hearers. You are the people who can hear the voice."

Eln smiled faintly.

"You are a clever one, child. We'll do some tests to see if you too could be a hearer in the future."

The boy nodded and replied.

"Okay, what should I do, hearer Eln?"

"Pyio here will sing a short song. You just need to listen, and I'll do all the work going over you."

The boy nodded once more, and Pyio began to sing.

In grace it spins
The flame of the fins
In light we dance
We are told to stop
Listen, listen
And bow to the top
Speak the voice
Hear the words
In these we find the winds

Eln held the boy's hand, and took very good notice of how the boy was reacting. The boy was utterly pleased. The soothing voice effectively brought happiness upon the boy. The boy was now happy, from listening to the song, and that was enough for Eln.

"Pyio. I believe we can stop now."

The room was soundless. Pyio broke that stillness.

"You have done well boy."

"Am I going to be a hearer too?"

The boy asked excitedly. Eln replied.

"Unfortunately no, child. However, it is good to find joyful comfort from our songs."

Eln, Pyio and the boy left the room and joined the mother who was talking to the other hearer.

"Oh you're done! Boreaous was telling me about how it was like being a hearer."
Pyio said to the mother.

"You have a very clever and wondrous son. But I'm afraid the boy is not fit to be a hearer. He doesn't seem to be a vessel."

The mother's simulations paid off in this very moment.

"Oh no worries. I didn't have high hopes with such a pleasant child. Plus, from what I heard from Boreaous, being hearer might not be all that great for little Gean here."
"I'm glad you understand."

And so the boy and the mother left the mirror and started treading the walk back home. The boy was still happy, but one question remained puzzling his head.

"Mom."

"Yes Gean?"

"What did, Bor-, Borry-, um, uh."

"Boreaous. He did rather have a difficult name."

"Oh right, um, what did he say to you that made you think me being a hearer might be bad?"

The mother chuckled.

"Gean, he told me that if you became a hearer, you would never be sad again."

"Isn't that a good thing?"

"And he said you would also never be happy again too. That means you would no longer be able show me your magnificent smile to me. That would break my heart."

The boy, with a surprised face, spoke back.

"But Eln was smiling even though he was a hearer."

"He was only pretending to not scare you. Hearers can't really smile, their not allowed to be happy; it's forbidden."

The boy pondered at this statement.

"Hm. Maybe I don't want to become a hearer. I love smiling, and I love you too, mom."

"Me too, Gean. That's why I'm happy you turned out not to be a vessel."

And the mother and the boy walked back home, each with a smile on their faces.