It seems ordinary. Coruscation of glitter, ornamentation and trimming’s swaying with winter’s breeze, and holiday-theme’d booths as far as eye can see. It feels familiar. Like you’ve had experience among festival life. That can’t be true, though. The island’s are new and foreign where memories are concerned. Whatever the case, it looks entertaining. For a while, you wonder if, maybe, a life could be started here— however fleeting, you feel comfort. Like a home’s been returned to. Maybe it’s just the holiday season.
November’s latter days finish quietly. Citizen’s snuggling beneath comfortor’s lock, passing excitement, imagining what December may bring. The following morning, despite alarms + cellular devices alerting you to dawn’s beginning, you can’t help but notice how dark it is; if decoration goes uncounted. Others, too, have pointed out sun’s absence. Not only that, the heaven’s are alight with stars, as though you’re seeing Achilia’s true nighttime sky. You are. (Photo reference for oceanic view of sky, sans the sun.) Achilia has four moon’s? That’s a daunting, if not gorgeous, sight. Suddenly, mayor’s voice echoes across the districts.
“ Am I reaching you? Ooh, I hope everything’s working- so everyone needn’t hear me in their head, I created a . . . l-loud speaker? Is that what they are? My, Earth has some unique communication methods. A-Anyway, “ she coughs, not wanting to marvel at conveniences of the modern age too long.
“ I’ll speak forthright : we have turned off Earth’s settings. Until January 1st, with the exception of the electricity in your homes and the decorations around you, our island’s are going dark. It is alright, though. We thought it an interesting way of greeting the dawn of a new year, as such, until then, the sun will not rise. “
As always, miss mayor, what even are you talking about so casually?!
2087
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