There were two siblings. Each uniquely made and built for purposes that neither could deny. Their parents were incredibly paced in all things that they did and quickly left the children they created for an ideal they were still searching for. Now this didn’t stop the kids, but proved to be what made them. He followed her everywhere she went and she never left his side.
They were always off playing some game of unknown rules or origin to the end of whatever day they had found. Their laughter was found like mass beside matter. Their sadness alike the dying of the stars in the final days of God.
One day came when the world was Dark. It was still and sleeping. The youthful minds which filled it with form, were resting sweetly amongst the shimmering stars when a change began that neither would see until the coming morning.
As the Dawn of All started to fall and the children woke from a long and healing sleep, each turned to the other with shock in their face and form.
His hands had turned to black and his wings were weighed with stone. The pitch of his eyes was set upon the Light of her guise. She was aflame and burning in pain, yet no cry was held. In an instant, she spread her hands to the sky and took flight in fire. Soaring farther and farther, higher and higher – she crested the heavens and there grew even brighter. His weight gained with every moment he strained against the growing force he faced until at last, he collapsed into himself where he was no more.
She tore across the heavens now as a Living Light, radiating and illuminating every angle she passed. Where the rays of her sight passed, Life began. Fire forged the quiet and stolen, into a raging cycle of desire.
He fell into the center of all things and from there saw all that came before, that is now, and would ever be. Turning and writing of all he saw, stitching together the variation in form sewn by his sister, he captured all and let none be forgotten.
This cycle continued and continues. Moments of unique force have been found in those rare occurrences of collision between Her Light and His Form. These places, Time bends and spaces rends from the path it’s called. For a stolen moment, they are children again. The fire has faded and the weight has lifted, the lives of innocence are left to play in the valleys of gay. Nothing lasts forever and even the dreams of a day when all was well and free from work can call the road the halt.
There is rumored a day in many myths of when Her path with finally end; When his wounds will finally mend. These moments herald the end of an Era and the beginning of Age.