\tThe sun set that night, as it had so many nights before. It would set again, years hence, but there would be an interregnum, a time in which the sun did not rule the sky.<\/p>\n
\tThat time started innocently, for the sun touched the horizon as if it was any other day, bleeding its light out into the world. Indeed, even after the last ray had been blocked by the horizon, none were the wiser.<\/p>\n
\tYet shortly afterwards, the weather brought a whisper upon the wind, and those who could hear the voices in the breeze gathered their children and hid. Those who could not walked outside, for the land about them had gone silent.<\/p>\n
\tWhen those who hid emerged from their hovels, they saw nothing, heard nothing, for there was not the slightest glimmer of stars or moon. The lanterns they gathered did little, illuminating only their own shuddering visages.<\/p>\n
\tCourage was amongst the men, and they walked afield, searching through the village for their friends, yet they found none. The homes of their compatriots had vanished with them, leaving holes where once the supports had stood.<\/p>\n
\tThe families gathered themselves together, and spoke over the glow of a single candle. They never spoke again of what was decided there that day, but they hoarded what little food they could, and as the days drew on into months, the population dwindled.<\/p>\n
\tThe eldest was taken first, and then the next oldest. The village sustained itself in this way, until there was but one small boy left, alone.<\/p>\n
\tHe did not die as he starved, but aged until his back was bent and his limbs more twisted than straight. Through all the years he tracked the passage of the days, and on the day of his hundredth birthday, he heard a voice.<\/p>\n
\tIt was the first voice other than his own in ninety two years.<\/p>\n
\t\u201cYou have proved worthy of this land.\u201d A figure gleamed through the dark, a sun breaking through the clouds.<\/p>\n
\t\u201cThere are none left to populate it. I am the last.\u201d<\/p>\n
\t\u201cA pity, isn’t it?\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
The sun set that night, as it had so many nights before. It would set again, years hence, but there would be an interregnum, a time in which the sun did not rule the sky. That time started innocently, for the sun touched the horizon as if it was any other day, bleeding its light […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_is_tweetstorm":false,"jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":false,"jetpack_social_options":[]},"categories":[36,4],"tags":[],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/pRIK4-8r","jetpack-related-posts":[{"id":126,"url":"http:\/\/thefourpartland.com\/blog\/?p=126","url_meta":{"origin":523,"position":0},"title":"In The Fields","date":"April 30, 2010","format":false,"excerpt":"A short piece written this morning for Friday Flash. The old man and his wife sat around the dinner table, talking quietly. It was a scene they had repeated day after day, month after month, year after year. They had lived in this house for almost their entire lives, farming\u2026","rel":"","context":"In "Flash Fiction"","img":{"alt_text":"","src":"","width":0,"height":0},"classes":[]},{"id":227,"url":"http:\/\/thefourpartland.com\/blog\/?p=227","url_meta":{"origin":523,"position":1},"title":"I Cried as I Sung","date":"August 20, 2010","format":false,"excerpt":"I walked through the ashes of my life, and I cried as I sung. I sung for my prayers and my hopes, and I cried as I picked each hope out of the ash where it had fallen, and cradled it lovingly. I would then put them in a rucksack,\u2026","rel":"","context":"In "Flash Fiction"","img":{"alt_text":"","src":"","width":0,"height":0},"classes":[]},{"id":262,"url":"http:\/\/thefourpartland.com\/blog\/?p=262","url_meta":{"origin":523,"position":2},"title":"Hollow Rage","date":"September 11, 2010","format":false,"excerpt":"The ideas that occur while showering... I raged against the dying of the light, but it was an empty rage, a hollow rage. All but the last glimmers of the sun had gone, and the death that is twilight stole over the land. I knew this time had to come,\u2026","rel":"","context":"In "Flash Fiction"","img":{"alt_text":"","src":"","width":0,"height":0},"classes":[]},{"id":517,"url":"http:\/\/thefourpartland.com\/blog\/?p=517","url_meta":{"origin":523,"position":3},"title":"A Desert of Fire and Glass","date":"June 17, 2011","format":false,"excerpt":"Over on Splintered Lands today, we have the continuation of my comedy story Thieves Abroad. And here below, I've posted an excerpt from a short story set in The Four Part Land. To place yourself on the map, the action here takes place more or less under the text Yn\u2026","rel":"","context":"With 8 comments","img":{"alt_text":"","src":"","width":0,"height":0},"classes":[]},{"id":312,"url":"http:\/\/thefourpartland.com\/blog\/?p=312","url_meta":{"origin":523,"position":4},"title":"Hia Breoedd, Part #3","date":"October 14, 2010","format":false,"excerpt":"This is the third in a short #FridayFlash serial based in The Four Part Land. Events that take place here will have a large impact in upcoming TFPL novels. Sighing, he settled himself down for the night, for although it was early, his planned arising and departure would entail a\u2026","rel":"","context":"In "The Four Part Land"","img":{"alt_text":"","src":"","width":0,"height":0},"classes":[]},{"id":117,"url":"http:\/\/thefourpartland.com\/blog\/?p=117","url_meta":{"origin":523,"position":5},"title":"Akobayi Junction","date":"April 22, 2010","format":false,"excerpt":"This story was a dream I had, about two years ago. I wrote it up the next morning and then barely touched it since then. I've sat down and edited the material, and reading over it again I find myself fond of the material. 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