Page 72 of Fading Sun

“The murals on these walls depict stories of sun deities from various cultures,” the Buddha says. “Your task is to choose eight of them to learn and understand. You have two hours. After that, the murals will fade, and you’ll be tested on what you learned.”

“What kind of test?” Morgan’s face is pale with anxiety—I assume she’s not the type who ever waited until the night before a test to study. I’m not sure she had exams at all, since she was home schooled. But if she did, I can’t picture her staying up to cram.

I can’t claim the same for myself.

Hopefully, that’ll come in handy for this challenge.

“A verbal test,” the Buddha replies. “I’ll ask questions, and you will answer. Correct answers will allow you to move on to the next question. Incorrect answers will result in penalties.”

“What type of penalties?” I ask, not liking the sound of that.

I swear the Buddha smirks at my question. “Study well, and you won’t have to find out,” he says, and a huge candle in front of him flickers to life, its dancing shadows making him look menacing and conniving. “You have until the candle finishes burning to study. Pay attention to details, and good luck.”

His eyes close, and he’s still again.

I gaze around the temple, immediately overwhelmed.

“We should each pick two gods to focus on, instead of trying to retain basic knowledge about all eight,” Damien says, calm, but urgent. “Are there any gods that the three of you are particularly interested in? Any you’ve learned about in school, so you’ll have a base knowledge going in?”

I assume he’s asking because he already has a base knowledge about many gods. Perks of being immortal and having had more time to learn things.

“I’ve always liked Greek and Roman mythology,” I say. “I can do Apollo and Helios.”

“I can do Norse mythology,” Blaze says. “And Egyptian.”

“I’ll take Aztec and Mayan,” Morgan volunteers.

“That works.” Damien glances around the chamber. “I’ll focus on Hindu and Japanese.”

With no time to spare, we spread out, locate our chosen stories, and get started. No arguing, no nothing—just us against the clock.

Well, in this case, against the candle.

Apollo’s mural is vibrant, depicting him with his golden chariot and lyre. I study every detail—the way his horses’ manes flow like flames, the serene look on his face as he brings light and music to the world.

Apollo, god of the sun, music, and prophecy, I think, tracing the lines of the mural with my fingers, committing everything to memory. Twin brother of Artemis, the moon goddess. Associated with the Oracle of Delphi and known for his healing abilities.

I read the rest of the information about him, over and over again. I wish I had flashcards—I always used them to study for tests. There was something about writing the information down by hand and quizzing myself that helped me memorize it.

But I have no ink, and no flashcards, so I create little quizzes in my mind and try doing it that way, instead.

My few quick glances at the others show me they’re as immersed in their murals as I am.

“The candle’s about halfway burned down,” Damien eventually says. “If you haven’t moved onto your second god, do it now.”

Without wasting time, I move to Helios. His mural is equally as stunning as Apollo’s, with his four winged horses pulling his chariot along his daily journey across the sky.

Helios, the Titan who drives the sun chariot from east to west every day, I think. He sees everything that happens on earth, maintaining a constant watch from dawn to dusk.

The candle burns steadily as we work, its flickering light a constant reminder of our time limit.

Eventually, it goes out.

The murals fade, the vibrant colors disappearing into the wall until it’s like they were never there at all. I press my palm against the stone, as if I can make them come back, but nothing happens.

I turn around as the Buddha’s eyes open again.

“Seekers of light,” he says, and while his mouth moves as he speaks, his body remains still. “It’s time for your test.”

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