The class leaned forward almost as one. Even the second-years, who'd heard their fair share of tall tales, were listening close.
Professor Barinous clasped his hands behind his back, eyes narrowing slightly. "Over a thousand years ago, the world faced what we now call the Sunless Year."
The chalk in his hand scratched across the board — a single line drawing of a sun, then a great X through it.
"Without warning, the sun vanished from the sky."
Gasps rose immediately. Some students muttered to each other.
Barinous let the reaction wash over the room before continuing. "One morning, life continued as normal. Merchants opened their shops. Farmers tilled their fields. Children played in the streets. And then…" He snapped his fingers. Snap. "The sun was gone. No warning. No eclipse. Just… gone."
A shiver rippled down the row of desks. Ark's hand had gone white against his notebook.
'And everyone calls it a mystery. Convenient, isn't it?' I thought to myself.
Barinous's voice lowered. "Darkness consumed the land. Panic followed. The only light came from fire, from candles, and from the moon — which, curiously, grew brighter. Brighter than it had ever shone before."
Students whispered again.
"Many wondered why. Without the sun, the phases of the moon should have faltered. Yet instead… it blazed, as if determined to preserve what little hope remained."
My jaw tightened.
'No. Not the moon itself. Her. She's the reason anyone survived. She worked herself raw while her brother disappeared.'
The professor paced slowly across the front of the room. "But even with the moon's light, it was not enough. The world began to wither. Crops failed. Trees shriveled. Fields turned to barren soil. With no sun to nourish them, plants starved. And with them, people."
Silence fell again.
Barinous gestured with his chalk. "Of course, during this time, magic also adapted. Fire mages learned to keep cities alive, their flames staving off frost. Light mages experimented, discovering how their mana could coax a handful of crops to grow. It was a desperate time, but also one of great discovery."
Zek muttered under his breath, "Explains why fire magic got so advanced…"
'A good thing for the advancement of magic, but Brakos had to break his own rules and hand over knowledge too early. All because someone abandoned their post.'
Barinous's tone darkened. "And of course, with darkness came other dangers. Creatures that once hid from the sun's glare emerged without fear. Vampires. Ratmen. Gargoyles. Things that thrived in shadow began to roam openly, unchecked."
Several students flinched.
"The world teetered. For a full year, chaos reigned. Fear ruled. Some gave up hope entirely. Others turned to desperate acts."
He paused. "And then… it ended."
Every head lifted.
"One morning, the people of Primus awoke to a light unlike anything they had seen in a year. The sun returned. Glorious. Brilliant. It filled the skies with warmth. The whole world wept that day. Men and women fell to their knees, convinced it was a dream… until the truth set in. The sun had returned for real."
Barinous's voice grew almost reverent. "That was when he revealed himself. The Sun God. A man, once mortal like us, who claimed he could not bear to see the world collapse. He left his home, his family, his mortal life behind… and ascended to godhood. He became the sun itself, a beacon of hope, so that we might survive."
The class broke into hushed murmurs. Ark's eyes were wide. Araki scribbled furiously. Even Orin's brow was furrowed, though whether in awe or suspicion, I couldn't tell.
'Beacon of hope? No. Traitor. He abandoned us. Left Luna to shoulder his burden. Left Brakos to give away what he swore never to until the time was right. He wasn't a savior — he was the cause. And now history praises him.'
Barinous finished, his voice soft. "That is why the Sun God is revered. Not merely for his miracles now, but for his sacrifice then. Without him, our world would have perished."
The room was still for a long moment.
Then the students began speaking at once.
"That's incredible…"
"So he gave up everything?"
"No wonder Solaria's so powerful…"
"It sounds almost… holy."
My hand curled into a fist beneath the desk.
'Holy. That's what they call it. A betrayal, dressed as sacrifice. A deserter, worshipped as a savior. And the truth rots behind gilded words. If I weren't in this room, I'd spit the truth across the floor. But aside from the professor, no one else is ready. Not yet anyway.'
Ark glanced at me, noticing my expression. He didn't say anything, but his tail brushed lightly against my arm — grounding me.
"Of course," Barinous continued, "that is only the story taught by the Church."
A student looked at him in confusion and asked, "What do you mean, Professor?"
He smiled and explained, "While there is little to no doubt that the sun was brought back by the Sun God, the question is what happened to the first sun. Did a previous Sun God exist but somehow die, or was this some elaborate plan for the Sun God to gain more power and influence?"
I was taken aback. I didn't expect him to say that at all.
"This perspective of mine is why I am a fugitive of the Church," he said with a smirk.
Barinous let the weight of his words linger, the smirk still faint on his lips. Then, with a glance toward the tall clock mounted near the door, he sighed.
"Unfortunately," he said, "that will be all for today. But—if any of you wish to explore specific tales or histories in the future—find me in this classroom or my office and make your requests. I will… consider them."
A ripple of conversation spread through the room as students gathered their things.
"Thank you, Professor," someone said, and the sentiment was echoed in a low chorus before the class began filing out, voices buzzing with excitement and speculation.
I didn't join in. My jaw was tight, my mind running sharp circles around Barinous's words.
'Beacon of hope. Sacrifice. Revered.' I scoffed.
I bit the inside of my cheek hard enough to taste iron.
'Lies dressed as legends,' I thought in anger.
-
We exited with the crowd, but Ark slowed his pace until he was walking right beside me. His hand brushed mine, his voice low.
"…Jack? You okay? You… looked kind of mad back there," he asked.
I exhaled slowly through my nose, forcing the tension from my shoulders. My face softened as I glanced at him. "Yeah. Just… not a fan of half-truths being presented as history."
Orin tilted his head. "Half-truths?"
I looked around. Too many ears nearby.
"Follow me."
I led them down a quieter corridor, empty save for a few wall sconces and dust motes swirling in faint magical light. With a flick of my fingers, I set up a soundproof barrier, ensuring others can't hear us.
Finally, I sighed. "Sorry. I just… hate that story."
Araki crossed his arms, tail swaying. "Because of your hatred of the Church?"
I shook my head. "Because it's incomplete," I corrected. "History is written by the victors, or in this case, the Church. The version taught by the Church makes Sol look like a savior who sacrificed everything for this world. But the contract I have, the one that grants me true knowledge… revealed a very different story."
Zek leaned forward slightly, his slitted eyes narrowing. "Then tell us. What does it say?"
I hesitated. "Certain rules prevent me from answering that question."
Everyone rolled their eyes, clearly annoyed.
I sighed and continued.
"However, I can say that Sol betrayed someone close to him. Left others to suffer for his choice. And that his rise to godhood came at a price the world still hasn't recovered from."
Ark frowned. "…What kind of betrayal?"
I met his gaze. "The kind that nearly killed the world. And worse… the kind that earned him the worship of the very people he abandoned."
Zek's claws clicked softly against the stone wall. "So the whole Sunless Year… was caused by the Sun God?"
I kept my mouth shut. I can't reveal anything more myself, but that doesn't mean I have to prevent them from figuring it out on their own.
Orin exhaled slowly. "And you know more than you're telling us."
I gave a tight smile. "I do. But I'm not able to share the rest… not yet anyway. Some truths are dangerous. Not just to know… but to speak aloud."
Araki's frills lifted faintly, a sign of unease. "…Then what do we do with what you've told us?"
"Nothing," I said firmly. "Not yet. Just remember this: the real history isn't the one written on paper. It's the one someone tried very hard to bury."