[ WP ] The Earth does not rotate . One side always faces the sun and is in continual daylight . The other side is in eternal night . Cultures on both side develop around this .

The dream of everyone on the Fireside and the Darkside was to make it back to the Borderlands. 
 
 One side of the planet was scorched and uninhabitable, bathed in the cruel light of the sun every second of every day. The ground was cracked and charred. Nothing grew there, no plant or animal could survive in the blazing heat. This was known as the Fireside. 
 
 The other side of the planet was frozen and equally uninhabitable. It was hidden from the light of the sun, with only the twinkling stars visible in the night sky, their dim light a spiteful reminder of the warmth that was denied. The ground was ice, and nothing grew here, as no plant or animal could survive the freezing temperatures. This was known as the Darkside. 
 
 However, at the boundary between night and day there was a thriving civilization, one that existed in a narrow ring that circumvented the globe. There was life here, and culture, and joy. Here the temperatures were tolerable; a little warmer on the edge closest to the Fireside, and a little cooler on the edge closest to the Darkside. This was known as the Borderlands, and it was led by a people whose cruelty was even greater than the sun and the cold. They were known as the Highers. 
 
 The Highers were the rulers of the Borderlands. Their word was law. The Highers lorded over an oppressed population of servants and slaves. By controlling all the resources and deciding all the punishments for lawbreaking, the Highers were able to keep their subservients in check. Anyone who stepped out of line was exiled, either to the Fireside to work in the solar plants or factories, or to the Darkside to freeze ignominiously to death. 
 
 The Highers did not allow any exiles to ever return. But those who were banished still remembered an existence that was not either oppressive heat or deathly cold. And they dreamed of returning to the Borderlands. This was just a dream, of course. The exiles had no chance of convincing the Highers to reaccept them, and they had neither the numbers nor the strength to return by force. And so they wailed, and gnashed their teeth, but ultimately had to accept their fates. This was the story of all those who were exiled to the Fireside or the Darkside. 
 
 With one exception, that is. One young man, named Solaro Doshai, did not simply accept his fate. His story was slightly different.
