The sun shattered.
Fireworks exploded in the cosmos, bursting into millions of glittering shards. Red enshrouded the sky like a fiery blanket, sprouting its flaming hues across the firmament. Dyes of orange, yellow, pink tainted its caliber in a blazing trail. A canvas of fire illuminating an infinite darkness.
At the pinnacle of their peak, the fiery pieces of the sun began to descend. The ceaseless darkness crept into the areas void of the light that had once brightened them with warmth, expanding its cold, greedy reach as the sun fell apart. The bits, like blazing snow, cascaded gracefully down to earth, falling like tears.
As the first one reached the earth, it touched it, igniting a spark of light at the spot. The others followed close behind. At the gentle caress of the fallen sun, the ground erupted into a small inferno. Ruddy dirt turned to mere ash, dust beneath its incomparable power. The fire steadily expanded, its flames licking the tender earth, searing tendrils growing in size and height, reaching upwards to the skies, as if it yearned to return home.
From the fiery abyss, a figure morphed into shape; the flames molded and entwined together in a teasing, romantic dance like long-lost lovers. For a split second, the heat suddenly reared, angry, blazes lapping at the vicinity with strikes of its flaming whips, before taming back to its calm presence, revealing its creation.
A woman sat on the ashen ground, bronze skin untouched by the heat. The embodiment of light, but her flame had long ago been extinguished. She wept, but her tears only fuelled the fire she was amidst.
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Wolf's Hearth
Loup-garouin which the sun is a woman, and she vows to burn the children of the moon. - an interesting twist on traditional werewolf stories.