I was molded from darkness.
I thought it made me because it was lonely.
Strange, then, that it created me, knowing I would be alone for so long.
Eventually there were more.There was earth.There was water.Then came air, followed by light with her two shining eyes and I was diminished, broken apart and speared to cracks and crevices and cowering behind every pebble.
I thought, how cruel.That I must rip myself apart for you and hide, while others are allowed to bask in your presence.When I spent so long alone, and you have only just arrived.
I seeped underground and crushed earth beneath my fingers until it was smooth and hard and sharp.I gathered parts of myself, strung together, taut, kinetic, and I put that force behind my sharp earth and I released.
And so I blinded one eye, and could make myself whole again.Sometimes.We played a never ending game, light chasing dark chasing light.
Then what?
Then you came.You grew.And beneath you, I thrive, even when light's one eye watches.
And you don't have to be small and alone.
No.When I am with you, I am not small and alone.
Is that why you're telling me this?So I won't be alone?
Yes.But you should rest.It is exhausting, to begin existing.
But I feel as though I just woke.
Then come find me.
It is his first memory.He shakes off the trembles of new life and crosses his forests and meadows and marshes and reefs.And when he finds him, he dives into his arms and they fall beneath his canopy, into his shade, and wrap themselves up in it and each other.Where they lay, flowers grow, are bitten by frost, and decay.And another comes to exist in the world.That is his second memory.
He loves the others, too.Light and air, earth and sea and their creation, crystal.And death, the one he and darkness made together.But he loves darkness most.He loves being in his arms.He loves the way his black hair parts as his fingers comb through it, the way his cool breath tangles with his own, the way his long limbs yield to his embrace.He loves the sweet affections murmured against his shivering flesh.
There is peace for a long time.The universe balances, as it does.And as it does, it unbalances.At first, the creation of humans does not upset anything at all.They are much the same as the other souls he enjoys watching, seeing them come alive, thrive, and die, though he is more fascinated by them than the others, because they look so similar to himself.But they are not the same.Their skin bleeds and bruises, and if that doesn't kill them, their bodies dry and wrinkle until it does.They eat, and eat, and eat.They tell stories.They invent tools and music and names.They name everything, even him.Vaire.He likes the taste of it, rolling off his tongue.
One day, light calls them.They've gathered before, but rarely all of them together.Light says all.
'No,' says darkness.The humans have named him Kyarin.'I cannot go.'He looks the other way, ashamed of his apprehension.
Vaire takes Kyarin’s obsidian face in his hands, guides it to look at him, caresses the frost-speckled cheeks and smiles.'I will be there.You can go.I'm with you.'
His uncertainty doesn't fade.
'Sulan said all.'They both heard the urgency.Vaire takes Kyarin's hand and leads him.
They gather on a cliff.Sea is draped in earth's arms, crystal beside them, air next to light.Sulan casts Kyarin a dagger look, her unseeing eye filmed and white, but Vaire intercepts it with his own intractability.
'You called us here,' he reminds her.
She looks away, unperturbed by his defiance, but unable to counter it.He takes Kyarin's hand and brings him over to sit with the others.
Death comes last as usual, unhurried as always.They sit beside Kyarin and rest their unrelenting gaze onto Sulan.With Vaire and Dihen beside him, Kyarin relaxes.He lowers his head to Vaire’s shoulder and Vaire accepts the slide of fingers through his own.
'Well?'Ailel asks.'What is so important?'
Sulan looks between them all, gathering herself.'I have met another like us.'
There is no reaction.
