By Madeleine Roche
The sun set on another day in Olympus. Another day that Helios had to face without Selene. The two never liked each other anyway. Maybe it was that innate sibling rivalry or maybe the moon was too dark and the sun too bright – there was never a healthy medium. It truly could be considered a toxic relationship, and yet they persisted in trying to out-do each other, the sun trying to burn, the moon trying to quench her brother’s flame.
So one day Zeus decided to put an end to this madness and decreed that the two should never meet – only a slight crossover when the moon rises and the sun sets. Each night they would wait to catch a glimpse of each other, however fleeting. They would wait for the next dusk with trepidation. But it wasn’t enough. They longed to see each other always, not just at twilight.
They tried to take it up with Zeus, saying that they had failed to realise their love for one another – their own blood, their own kin – until they were doomed to never be together. But the God was ruthless, firm in his decision.
And so the two took it into their own hands. In those passing moments they planned a way to be together. It took years to plan when they could only see each other for minutes. They slipped past each other, hands outstretched, palms sliding against one another, trying to stay stationary for just long enough to grip. They never had the time.
But one day, their plan was complete and once they took a steely breath and decided that once and for all they would be together and no one could stop them, the world grew dark. The days were no longer lit by sunlight and the nights were black without the silvery flakes of moonlight.
The world descended into dark chaos as two siblings walked away, glowing light emitting from their linked hands.