Sacrifice: Seasonal Fantasy

They greeted the rising sun with the joy of children unsure that the darkness would ever leave them, though they didn't know how close it had been. The sacrifice on the stone closed his eyes in joy, as his blood ran down the runnels and then slowly trickled to a stop as the rising sun painted everything the red of his blood. His body's heat cooled as the rest of the world warmed from his sacrifice. The wreath of holly on his head fell to the ground, leaving pin-pricks of blood along his brow. His fight done, the spear fell from his slack hand. He died, and passed from life into legend.


Inspiration: High
Story Potential: High. Really high!
Notes: This is the ending, so it should be the beginning. And it's real. He's the sacrifice, and he goes and does what he needs to to make the sun come again and stay longer. Lover, scholar, warrior, which? All? This is a story best told circular, which will be an interesting challenge for me. Of course, naturally I think of this *after* when I should write it to get it published this year. Because this is a winter solstice/Easter(?) story. So I should have written and submitted it last October. Ah, well, adding a note to the calendar for next year.