Maxim Jakubowski: The Mammoth Book of Short Erotic Novels

Day dawned instantly on the land and all that was left behind for the emperor to cling to was his creature’s sacred pearl; the treasure their joy had created had withstood the powerful fire.

It is said that in his profound grief the emperor swallowed his creature’s pearl. And as the magician disappeared in a cloud of jasmine smoke, and a gentle breeze tinkled the tiny silver chimes in the tender plum blossoms, the emperor wept bitter tears, and did not stop weeping, even after the sands had slipped through the hourglass twelve more times.

And it is further said that so great was the emperor’s remorse, as he could no longer provide night for his tired people who toiled in constant daylight, so bitter were his tears, that he finally dissolved into salty water that trickled down into his majestic lagoon and was carried out to sea.

It was then that the mighty waves leaped and swirled and tossed a sacred glowing pearl far into the western sky, at last bringing on the gentle evening. And it was this sacred pearl, which we’ve come to call our moon, that was loved in ancient times by a tender, tired people, who came to call it, affectionately, the Emperor of Night.