The sunflowers stared again, and he looked away. He wasn't used to this sort of attention. People walked around, aware that he was there, but they just plain ignored him. If someone by any chance dared to look up, the affront was soon regretted, as he would blind the offender with his brightness.

But not the sunflowers. They would stare relentlessly, with no signs of shame or regret. Those commoners, with their big, round faces and their yellow trimmings would not bow to him. They remained inmovile, only turning when he moved around the sky, trying his best to avoid their gazes.

Finally, having tried everything he could possibly think of to hide, he reached the ground, and noticed, to his surprise, it wasn't solid. He could slide right by it.

It was then, and only then, that the sunflowers finally looked down, saddened by the parting of the one they admired. The sun remained hidden, triunfal, venturing further than he had ever dared to go before.

But soon he started feeling something he had never known before. He was alone, and he started to miss his once despised admirers. So, as quietly and slowly as he could, he spied, raising just enough to see the sunflowers without being noticed himself. And he saw, he saw his once despised observers, staring intently at the ground.

Mad with jealousy, he raised and raised, and noticed, enthralled, that they looked up again, as if he had never parted.

Since then, the sun hides and returns to his faithful followers with careless unpunctuality. The sunflowes, however, don't seem to mind. They stand and wait, ever patiently

The night

When the sun decided to hide, the world was suddenly darkened.

Men couldn't see, animals would lay on the ground not to trip over shadows.

But a beautiful damsel, a young girl with skin as white as snow and eyes and eyes as dark as her surroundings, asked herself how she could rescue her people, who waited terrified, not knowing if the sun would ever return.

She decided there was only one chance of bringing the light back into the world: She would find the sun and explain why he should come back to them. But how she would reach the sky to travel to him, she could not know.

She pondered and pondered, and finally, she felt it was all in vain. She, a simple human, could never reach the sky. Feeling she had failed her people, she wept, for they could not live in darkness.

Her tears were white as pearls and as radiant the sun, but too small to light all of the land. They could feel her sorrow, and could not bear with it. So they ascended to the skies so that she could climb them and reach the sun. They glistened so that the beautiful maiden could find her way through the shadows.

She climbed and climbed and climbed, till her legs were sore and minutes and hours lost meaning to her. She finally reached the last tear, and she could finally see his hiding place.

She run and jumped and never looked back in fear. But because of her determination, she could not see what was happening just behind her. A pale, white light shimmered over the land. Men and animals could see again, and so, in awe, they looked up, and saw a radiant, beautiful woman sprinting across the sky, with countless pearls that shined showing her the way.

Moon was the name of the young human who chased the sun. When she reached his hiding spot, she could not find him, but fount his footsteps. The tears, loyal to their master, followed to protect her.

As she gave chase, she couldn't see that, behind her, at the other side of the ground, the sunflowers were looking up again.

Moon never did find her prey, for the sun always left before she could catch up with him. But she wasn't tired nor alone: Her tears guided her, and they kept men's and beast's hopes alive, for she was proof that darkness was never complete and daytime was not far away.