What had been and is a mark of glory in the eyes of the kin was rapidly turning into the sign of a curse in mine. Our grip on the land and on the hostile kingdoms and empires was slipping, all because the kindred yearned for the pain and ecstasy they had experienced upon my coronation. I myself was losing power, the commoner folk among us called for me to evoke whatever strange power I had inherited that made the sun go dark.
There were political factions, rifts in society, even the churches that once held our prosperous kingdom together were at war with each other. Civil war within the kindred was not the physical swords-against-shields kind but mental. Outmaneuvering the other side was the goal of it all, and I was caught in the middle of it all.
One side clamored that I be deposed for bringing about the fall of our empire, the other that I be raised into godhood for bringing them the cure to their curse. As it was, the side that demanded my godhood was greater in magnitude and political strength. As pure and virtuous as the kin was, it still had its share of vainglorious hogs.
To end it all, I came up with somewhat of a solution. I proferred to both sides a prize. Whichever of them was able to come up with a magical formula, an incantation to induce eternal eclipse around our capital, would have their wishes granted. For those against me, my deposition, for those that wanted my ascension into our pantheon, my godhood.
I gave them all authority to do what they must for the good of the kin, while I struggled to rebuild whatever was left of my power. Weeks turned into months and months into years, yet neither side was willing to yield, although I suspect that they simply did not want to admit that there was nothing that could be done for the problem at hand.
Representatives of the factions that I would pass by in my palace halls would look me meaningfully in the eye and open their mouths as though to say something and then shut them and take an interest in their feet as they walk past. As the two sides raced for their price, the rest of the population that simply had no interest in what was happening was beginning to decline.
I could feel their despair as the urge was beginning to overtake me as well. I had only been able to stave it off because I had to, as king. I once, unsuccessfully, tried to take matters in my own hands and blot out the sun, but it did not do as well as I had hoped. In vain I cried out to the gods for deliverance from our plight, but as was expected, none answered. I was beginning to believe that they had abandoned us.
And so the seasons passed, summer into autumn, winter into spring, with each passing moment, more and more of us succumbed to the urge. More and more began to stay indoors, awaiting the relief of night. The streets of our once glorious capital began to gather dust and the once noisy streets of the market, filled with vendors and hawkers shouting out their wares were beginning to look glum and dilapidated.
It was as though a blanket had been thrown over my people, over my kingdom. I despaired for a solution, hoping that neither side had given up in their quest. It was as though the world was on my shoulders, the weight of a people losing hope, to whom the nights beckon sweetly.
