"Would you go away? I'm trying to soak up the sun."

The goat just stared at him with its dull, black eyes as it continued to chew on its disgusting cud.

Helian sighed in frustration as he sat up, crossed his legs atop the flat-topped rock, and glared at the stupid animal. Since the goat hadn't wanted to move, it blocked his view of monitoring the rest of the grazing herd of cattle and goats.

"Happy? I'm up."

It didn't react at all.

He huffed. What an exciting life being a farmer's son was. Helian long dreamed of a life filled with adventure and action; all he got was watching boring goats and cows. Defending the livestock from predators or Fangril's demons provided a thrilling change in his drab life, but now the hunters were aware of what stock Helian watched for an arrow would soon be the last they saw.

Bored with the slow-moving cows, his eyes drifted over to the back of his father's barn. The barn was solely for the use of the dairy cows and goats he watched now, no butchering. Pigs and a few chickens were the only other livestock providing the livelihood of him and his father. His mother had died in childbirth, so Helian grew up with only one parent—a very strict one.

He focused on the small cabin beside the barn, noting different patches of the barn roof needing re-thatching. His father would surely tell him to fix it—at least hard labor was better than being a shepherd. The cabin was small but not crowded with two people; Helian at least had his own bed crammed into the only bedroom, though.

The shine of the reflective solar panels on the roof caught his eye. Every building in Creta was equipped with at least one panel; he had heard that every building in Dantia ran on solar energy. Aawk had told him that the second largest city in Ethea—the largest in Dantia—Diwes, ran solely on solar energy. He had never seen so many solar panels before—on the roofs of every building, beside the buildings on the ground, on the very walls, and even just outside the city. The city was a sun.

Helian had even heard of cities being supported by wind-power, but that couldn't happen in Dantia—the wind wasn't strong enough. It had something to do with Air not being on good terms with the Sun. They weren't as compatible as it was with the Moon. Dantia was the land of the Sun, hence solar panels everywhere. If wind-energy powered cities, it would be in the land of Air—Agralea.

"You know, what about the lands of the Moon? Do they just have an eternal night?" Helian asked the goat. "Since we don't have a moon, do they not have a sun?"

It shook its head.

"Was that an answer, or was that because of a flea?"

The animal bleated.

"You do too have fleas."

It bleated again.

"Yes, you do!" Helian yelled.

With a shake of its head like in defiance, the goat lowered its head to nibble at some grass.

Look at him, arguing with a goat. Frustrated, Helian picked up his bow beside him and began polishing it with the rag he had just so his hands could do something.

He desperately wanted to lie back, close his eyes, dream of an adventure, and soak up the sun. It wasn't like he needed any more, though; from always being outside, the sun had bronzed him and bleached his blond hair so much that it was nearly white. He didn't want a darker skin tone; he wanted the energy he absorbed from the sun's rays.

Starting two years ago, he found himself more energetic in the sun—running into a cool house would gradually deflate him like a balloon. His aim with his bow was more accurate, unlike others, for the sun's brightness would blind them. He could control his temper more in the heat and he was less stubborn—the one thing everyone in Creta appreciated.

Watching the livestock had already tanned him and chasing down stray sheep, fending off the livestock from predators or Fangril's monsters, or tossing around bags of feed had given him a good physique. But now he was the darkest of everyone in the village—darker even than the most sun-worn leather-neck farmer—and definitely the best defender.

One day in the stream, he saw that his once dull brown eyes were now a bright, foreign golden color—alien in the way they glowed but looked so natural with his dark skin. He could even look into the sun directly without it burning his eyes now—he had found dark spots on the sun that he could never see before.

The goat bleating lifted his eyes. A slender form came from the village, but his head lifted as the walk was unfamiliar and the shape eventually belonged to a girl.

Pale skin strangely glowing, like a soft light gave it illumination, said she wasn't from the land of the Sun. Her hair was bone-straight, silvery-white and long behind her small shoulders, with light and dark blue ribbons weaved within. A dark blue dress halted at the calves, a light blue sash wrapped around her slender waist, and she had on brown sandals. She used a black staff like a walking stick.

He found her much prettier than any of the girls in Creta—they weren't pretty, they had blunt, bland features. This girl had a young, innocent, and soft face—she must have been no older than thirteen or fourteen. He found himself attracted to her only for a moment before he wanted to protect her like a younger sister. What was up with that?

Upon him lifting his head, the girl slowed to a stop. She hesitated for a second, then turned around to head back to Creta. After taking a few steps, she stopped again. Her back straightened and with a loud exhale, she turned back around and headed for him. Helian watched her obvious struggle with a furrowed brow.

She stopped before him and met his eyes; a soft blue immediately soothed his wariness over a stranger approaching. Her presence brought comfort, like he had known her forever. The strong aura this small girl gave off after her anxious approach surprised him—she wasn't one to be brushed off.

The silver-haired girl gave a tentative smile. "Hello." A soft, timid voice flowed out.

He nodded in greeting back. "Hiya."

"You are Helian, correct?"

He nodded again.

She curtsied. "It is a pleasure to meet you. I am Zelenia."

"Whatcha here for?"

Zelenia breathed out a heavy sigh. "I am actually here for you, Helian."

"Me?"

"Yes, you."

"And... why?"

"Because you are the Sun just as I am the Moon. You are my chosen twin."

It all fit precisely to the legend of the Elementals: the eye color changing, the quick tanning, and the energy he absorbed from the sun. He had long dreamed of having a part in that glory, but had fought against that suspicion to avoid being wrong. And that explained his sudden change from attraction to protection: she was his sister.

He breathed out a chuckle. "I never thought this could've been an option to consider."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm a farmer; I thought nothing was in my future other than cows and goats."

The goat by him bleated like what Helian said offended it.

He looked down at the animal. "I'm not apologizing. You're not something to look forward to."

Zelenia released a tinkling laugh. It was cute. "You have conversations with animals?"

He looked back at her. "Not really. They don't talk back, so it's mostly one-sided."

She covered her laugh with a hand. "You sure are sarcastic."

"Most usually hate it. I'm glad you find it funny."

"I'm sure we will need your humor later on."

Her unsure posture surprised him. "Why?" he asked.

She leaned against her staff. "You know what we are to do, right? It will not be an easy journey."

"Gather the Elementals and defeat Fangril." He smirked. "Except we'll be the ones to do it."

An eyebrow rose. "Confident."

"It's best to remain positive."

"But it will not be an easy journey."

Helian shrugged. "Didn't think it would or Fangril would be long gone."

Zelenia seemed to perk up at his continued positivity. He scooted over on the rock and patted it. "Tell me more. I may be the Sun, but that doesn't mean I can abandon my post—Father would kill me."

***

Thorald stared at the two teens—his son with golden hair and the young girl with silver hair and intelligent eyes far beyond her years. His son was the Sun, and this girl was the Moon? Well, he could see the resemblance and Helian boasted confidence and cockiness like the Sun. And a serene and calm aura just radiated off Zelenia.

But why so young? Everyone knew the legends of mortals chosen to receive the gifts and abilities of the Sun, Moon, and the Elements to defeat Fangril. He had thought those mortals were warriors, well-seasoned travelers, and humans set high in rank to help them on their quest; not kids who knew nothing of the world or how to take care of themselves on long journeys.

Another thought had him swallowing thickly: all the mortals in the past had failed. Many had never reached Fangril, killed on the journey. The road set before them was treacherous; Helian knew how to shoot a bow to protect a herd of cattle, but he wasn't a knight or a soldier. A farmer's son didn't know battle.

"Sir" —Zelenia leaned forward, breaking off his troubling musings— "I know you worry about our inexperience out in the world but do not worry, the Sun and Moon would not have chosen us without a reason. They wish to end the suffering of Fangril as much as we do."

"You're asking me to have faith—have trust in the ones who created Fangril? You're asking me to let my boy go? The only thing I have left in this world, probably to his death?"

She flinched and recoiled from his outburst. It came out harsher than he intended, but how could he calmly accept this news?

"Father—" Helian began.

He turned on him. "It's as if I would be telling you to throw yourself off a cliff. No. I will condemn you to death if I allow you to go!"

"Perhaps it isn't your choice."

Thorald stared at his son, not able to believe that he was actually talking back instead of just taking his command without lip as usual. "How is it not?"

Helian breathed out, eyes shifting to the ground. "I have been your son for eighteen years; doing everything you've asked, doing everything you've needed without arguing. I've been needed here." He looked up at him, strange golden eyes seizing him. "But now the world needs me. I cannot deny this call, for there is no one else. I will go, with or without your blessing... but I would rather leave with it."

His determination reminded him so much of his wife it left Thorald speechless. Laeta would get so frustrated with him, then go off and do what he was trying to keep her from doing.

"You sound just like Laeta."

The teens stayed silent as he thought it over. Zelenia held such a quiet but wise persona about her, he didn't doubt she had ever been a child. She had to be an old soul. But Helian, he had watched him grow, from a rambunctious boy to a wild, hard-headed teenager that would still obey him but always acted like he held himself back.

A different person sat before him. Mature. Levelheaded. Confident. Righteous. Other words came to mind, but he had watched his youthful son leave to mind the herd, only to come back as a man, already bearing the weight of the world on his shoulders.

The time had come for him to grow up; Helian had accepted it while he tried to hold on to his young boy, the only reminder of his Laeta.

He cleared his throat uncomfortably as he looked down at his hands on the table. "Do not promise me that you will come back. I know of the failures of the Elementals in the past; I do not want that hope shattered." Thorald looked back up, hoping his wavering spirit couldn't be seen in his eyes. "But know that I will look for your return every day."

Helian got up and hugged him, longer and tighter than any before.