The Fool woke up feeling hot. He barely got his eyes open before he was blinded by the white-hot sun. He rolled over onto his stomach and let his eyes adjust to the light by placing his hands over them like a visor. He could see little ants climbing up and down blades of grass.
The heat sapped his energy as he laid there. He was slow to stand up. It must have been close to a hundred degrees. He scoured the landscape for shade or shelter.
In the distance, he saw a field of sunflowers standing tall and nodding in the breeze. At the very least he would find shade in the field. He made his way across the desert.
The heat was so hot that he could barely breathe. A few steps and he was fatigued. The heat was draining him of his life force, but the sunflowers beckoned him. After being in darkness for so long, the Fool had thought he would be excited to be in the sunshine, but the sun was harsh.
He made it to the rows of sunflowers and laid down under their shade. He watched the big seeded faces sway back and forth with the blue sky above. There was a coolness in the flowers. He felt better. He started dozing again.
He awoke to a crashing sound. He sat up as a cow came through the sunflower field. A baby was riding the cow and giggling. The cow stopped at the Fool and began to find little patches of grass to munch.
I am Hermes, the baby said, and I just stole these cows from Apollo. Behind the cow and the baby was a herd of more cows meandering through the sunflowers, knocking the tall stalks flat.
Don’t worry, the baby Hermes continued, the Sun there is Apollo. He will get most of his cows back. Almost as an answer to the baby’s claim, the Sun grew even hotter, but that was mostly due to the cows knocking down the sunflower shade.
The Sun can be very serious, Hermes continued, but the Sun is also a Trickster. It gives us life, but also burns us and gives us cancer. Without it we die; with it, we die.
The Sun beat down on them as the cows all began to lie down. Hermes slid off his bovine mount and snuggled in the cow’s side. She didn’t seem to mind the baby. The Fool was confused by the baby’s wisdom.
I am less than a day old, Hermes said, as if to answer him, but my father is the big Sky Daddy, so I have a little more wisdom for my age.
The Fool chuckled.
You have returned from the fractured world of the Moon, I see, said Hermes. I can see the trauma in your face, but never fear. Here you will find openness and your truth. The Fool noticed that the sun didn’t seem to be moving in the sky at all.
When we are warmed by the sun, Hermes went on, we are renewed. We feel reborn in our sense of ourselves. Why do you think so many people escape to where the sun is the freest? To get reinvigorated.
It stayed daytime for many lifespans – or maybe it was half an hour – but the sun was still at its noon setting. Hermes was making sunflower crowns for each of the cows. He found a tortoise, and began stringing leather strings across its stomach. He then played the tortoise like a lyre. It was a haunting tune, and the Fool felt melancholy.
Then a man walked into the field. His skin was bronze and his hair black, but his eyes were two suns. He was perfect, like a statue.
I am Apollo, the man said, or the Sun if you wish. Hermes, you need to give back my cattle. Fool, you need to become your destined self. That is why you are here. You have been here many times before, and each time, Hermes gives me back my cattle and you go on to hopefully find your higher self, but then you don’t.
I’ll give you this lyre for your cattle, Hermes said as he plucked the strings. Apollo seemed pleased with the melody and agreed to the terms. Apollo immediately was a master at the lyre and began playing beautiful music that floated over the still-standing sunflowers. Everything seemed good.
You are supposed to be leading people through here, not being the one that is taking the journey, the Sun said matter-of-factly.
This theory stunned the Fool. He had never thought he wasn’t supposed to take this journey. He always assumed he was the one alone to take the journey. He always went over the cliff into the mist, he always went through the cycle, and then he was always back wandering the world, wondering if it meant anything.
But he was supposed to be getting people, finding people, and taking them through the journey. He wasn’t the hero. He was the fox, his friend that always seemed to be pushing him, or stopping him, from going over the side into the mist.
The Sun nodded approvingly to the Fool, as if he could read the Fool’s mind. He probably could. The Sun disappeared and Hermes began packing out his cattle. Follow the cattle back from where I came, Hermes said, and then he jumped onto the back of the cow with the sunflower crown, and the herd moved on.
The Sun looked down on the Fool as he started walking through the trampled sunflower field. He had seen the Fool come through here so many times. He wondered if there would ever be a day that the Fool would be coming through with someone else and letting that person discover the things they needed to discover.
He had been there when they made the Fool. The Moon had told the Sun about their plan in passing and the Sun loved the idea. The Sun gave the Fool authenticity, while Hermes gave him sly and cunning. Hermes knew that the Fool would need to weave through worlds, time, and space, and gave him the way to do that.
The Fool was nearing the end of his journey. It was up to the Fool if this time was to be his last.