The Burning Moon

“We will meet again, not here, not now. No, my love no, we cannot. You will watch for me?” Thisbe said to him.
“All our lives already wasted and all our time ahead unsure. Stay with me and give me this moment, for beside this moment there is nothing for me.” Pyramus beseeched her, knees on the ground and face uplifted to catch what was left of the moon.
“My father will find us, I must go. Until we meet again.”
“You’re sure we will meet again then? What sign should I rejoice by?”
“You will see me again on this hill, the full moon to be your guide. Of course we will meet, as surely as this hill must stand, as surely as the moon must rise again. I must go, promise to find me!” She was gone before her last words fell. Pyramus watched the sliver of moon with resentment, willing it to spin faster through the heavens and let a week pass before the sun rose again.
Those who think the sun rises each morning on its own accord sell short the labor however, and it was even now that Phaeton, son of Helios, was preparing his journey. He had asked his father one boon and it was promised readily, so eager was Helios to show his love. When Phaeton asked that he be allowed to drive the golden sun across the width of heaven his Father had despaired, for the journey was perilous and his son unready. Helios did all he could to dissuade the youth, but when all pleas were cast aside he held true to his word and handed over the reins of fire.
Off and away he rides! The flame of the chariot billowing behind Phaeton as trailing ribbons in the wind. The mighty steeds carrying the sun as lightly as a thought For this instant in time Phaeton was the king of the sky and no other instant existed beside. He did not try to give them direction nor concern himself for the path for no constraints could exist in a freedom so great. Did the steeds even notice he was there? They had traveled this way from east to west so many times that they must know each step across the sky, but they were willful beasts and they relished the freedom they felt as well. Without a strong hand on the reigns they dashed too and fro across the sky. Now too close to the earth and the trees were set a flame! Now swooping over a lake which evaporated at once, leaving the ground below cracked and dried. Cities burned and men cowered beneath the passing flight, but there at last Phaeton pulled them up. Up and up they soared! Straight into the heavens the chariot roared. The palaces of the Gods were set alight and the very clouds were scorched by the presence of those ravenous flames. Artemis sheltered her shining moon beneath her garments to keep it safe and hid it there as Phaeton thundered past. Still the flames stretched their hungry mouths into heaven and still the tongues of fire licked at the shining sphere. It is regret that filled Zeus when he struck Phaeton from the sky with his lightning, but too much was at risk with the wild sun. Never again would anyone but Helios be permitted to drive the chariot on its daily journey.
Prayers were muttered from the land and those with heavy hearts smiled grimly as thoughts of the end drew near. Not Phaeton though, for he slept through the entire event so weary was he from spending his night alone. When he woke late in the afternoon the world was just putting itself back together again. The woodland creatures chirped and brayed to mourn their ruined homes and men had much work to do to repair the fields and cities. Phaeton was put to labor and he spent the rest of the week toiling hard throughout the day. Each day ended with exhaustion and as soon as the sun would set again he would find relief in sleep.
Thisbe too woke only during the day. It was hers to help her father restore the shrines and set the offerings, and it was hers to lead the prayer to the Gods. The people did not understand why the sun visited earth and thought to belay their anger with careful reverence. Each day ended with exhaustion and as soon as the sun would set again she would find relief in sleep.
A week passed by, hastened by their labors, and it was time for the full moon again. For this the two lovers kept themselves awake and for this they watched from their windows as the sky grew dark. But where was the light to show the way? Where was the moon to reflect their desire? The sky stayed dark, as it had each night that week unnoticed by the dural duo.
“Where are you, radiant moon?” Pyramus asked the sky. “She said that I will see her as surely as the moon must rise again. Did she know it would not rise? She is close to the ways of the temple and must know the Gods plan. Was this how she told me we would not meet again?”
“Where are you, gentle moon?” Thisbe asked the sky. “Is tonight the night or is it another? Perhaps the Gods have noticed me as I tended the shrines. Perhaps they tell me it is not to be, perhaps it never was.”
The moon was safe for Artemis’s efforts, though it had burned with the sky. Artemis had taken it down to Hephaestus to be repaired, and there still it lay underwork. She heard the two lovers lament and felt sorry for their plight, so lighting a torch the Goddess stood sentry all the night for them to take the place of the moon. It was the last full moon of the season.