The town of Flores was indistinguishable from any other farming community on the continent. It was a remote town that lay at the border between the Ursus Kingdom and the Holy Empire. Technically speaking it was part of the Kingdom, but the Empire had established its presence in this town since long ago.

Two suns, one orange and one yellow hung low above the horizon. The orange sun was half the size of the yellow sun. Once every hundred years it would be swallowed by the yellow sun and this day was celebrated across both the Empire and Kingdom as the Aureus Eclipse.

In a nondescript horse stable, a young boy slept on a bale of hay. His frame was large for a ten year old, his hands rough and his hair the color of horse shit. He had a rustic attraction. A body built from hard work and labor.

“Frey, don’t forget to groom the horses!” a woman’s voice came from beyond the barn. Frey’s eyes flickered open. They were the same color as his hair.

‘Damn, I fell asleep again’ Frey thought.

“Yes mom!”

The boy brushed the hay off his worn clothes and continued to complete his chores for the day. He’d often talk to the horses as he groomed them and he believed they could understand him. At the very least understand his intent.

The work was repetitive and boring, but Frey enjoyed the company of the horses. He had known them since he was a baby after all.

Frey always left the best horse for last. Thor, a white stallion.

He was the sole stallion in the stables bred by Frey’s father. His mane was an unusual crimson. It was a rare mutation sought after by the Holy Knights of the Empire. That made Thor a very valuable commodity. His seed would fetch a hefty sum.

Frey touched foreheads with the young stallion. Thor was like his foster brother, they grew up together. “You’re so lucky Thor. When you grow up, there will be a queue of beautiful mares waiting to court you. We’ll make a couple silver coins for a single night!” Frey teased.

Thor gnashed his teeth and neighed. The horse was clearly frustrated.

“I know, I know, you aren't a mere stud,” Frey laughed.

“It looks like it’s getting late, Thor. I'll say a prayer for father and Troy before I leave”.

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He lit a stick of incense at a small shrine he made at the corner of the stables. It was simply a pile of colorful rocks he found around the town. He clasped his palms together.

“Father, big brother, I hope you are doing well in heaven. Mom and I are doing very well. We are managing the stables just fine without you two!” he smiled.

“That old geezer Grant is still in love with mother. The other day, he gave me a copper coin and some sweets from Nonna’s shop. I don’t like it, but mother, she…”

Frey continued to talk about the day’s events before snuffing out the incense and heading back home.

It was already dusk and the animals had started to doze off. Frey ran along the dirt path connecting the stables to a nearby cabin made from wooden logs. The shadows of a candle flame flickered through the open window.

Frey caught his breath and opened the door. His mother sat across Grant on the dinner table. It looked like Grant was downing his second bowl of pumpkin soup. He wasn’t surprised at the sight.

“Hello, Mr Potts.”

“Hey there lad, Ella here kindly invited me o’er for some dinner. The soup is delicious, here have some of this,” Grant shoved a half empty bowl in front of Frey. Grant’s nose and cheeks were flushed.

“No, no please finish the bowl Mr Potts, I’ve got Frey’s dinner ready”. Frey thanked his mother and gobbled the bowl even faster than Grant.

“I’ll get to bed then. I have an early start tomorrow. Please leave before it gets too dark Mr Potts. It’s not safe at night”.

“I’m not ‘fraid of the dark lad. Tis scared of me. Hohoho!”.

Frey rolled his eyes, glanced at his mother’s smiling face and went to bed.

His room was simple and minimalistic. He only had a wooden bed, a wooden desk and a wooden chair. There was but one leather book on the table. Every child in Flores had a copy of this book regardless if they could read or not.

There was no text on the cover, simply the picture of yellow sun against the black leather. This was the sacred text of the Holy Empire-- known simply as The Book.

Frey stroked the sun on the leather book and felt warm inside.

‘May the Light bless us all’.

Frey burned the midnight oil reading the text until he heard that Grant had finally left his house. He heaved a sigh of relief and closed the thick book. Today was not the day that geezer would become his step-father.

Ella hummed a local tune as she washed the stack of bowls left behind by Grant. Although he wasn’t exactly gentlemanly, Ella enjoyed his company. His wife also passed away from the plague that threatened the realm all those years ago. They shared the same loss and understood each other's grief.

Ella peeked through Frey’s door. He had fallen asleep reading The Book again. She couldn’t help but smile. Who wouldn’t be proud to have such a pious son. But the kid forgot to put out the lamp yet again.

Ella snuffed the wicker and kissed Frey’s forehead.

May the Light bless us all.