Beginning at the beginning
nanowrimo
If you were there at the very beginning (and, in some small way, you are) you would see... Nothing. Blackness. Silence. Not an absence of everything, no; it was a living breathing Night. She was a seething, coiling Dark.
Her name was Nox. It had always been her name. She had always known it. It was not something She remembered. That awareness of who She was had always been with Her. Nox was Everything. She covered and encompassed all that was. She was alone.
Or was She?
With awareness came... Awareness, a sense of her surroundings; an awakening, like rising upward from a deep, restful sleep. It was a rude awakening. She was not alone. There was another.
She could feel Him moving, rustling in Her darkness, blundering about wildly with no sense of who or where He was. She opened Her eyes, for the first time, and He blinded her. He burned her. He was beautiful.
She Named him Lux.
She hated Him. He was her antithesis. She gathered Her Darkness up around herself like a shield. She threw it at Him in huge pulsing waves of Nothing. She tried to crush Him with it; to smother that bright spark that burned so incessantly. He was unaware of her struggles. She had no voice, no form, and no substance. She loved him.
This went on for a long time, or perhaps a short one. Time then was an unstructured thing that passed as it would, with each thought in the mind of a God marking one minute to the next. Let’s just say they were long minutes, epic ones, and the clock ticked by for some time before things changed from the state that they were comfortable in. There was Her, and there was Him.
Slowly (or so it seemed to Her) Lux became aware of Himself. He found His feet (and He did have feet, and hands and all those things that healthy, living things have) and began to move about. She watched Him take His first awkward baby steps from the shadows, at once amused and sickened by His apparent stupidity. He tottered about the unconfined spaces of Infinity as if He was looking for Something. She shifted this way and that as not to be trampled on, regarding Him with the same absentminded affection of the owner of a large clumsy dog. While He was a constant frustration, He was, at least, a companion of sorts; a welcome distraction from the roiling monotony of Her own lonely thoughts.
It came then, as quite some surprise to her, one day when she least expected it; this… Creation. It all happened so quickly it left Her reeling with the noise and color of it. Lux simply filled His immortal, bottomless lungs. He sucked Her in and Nox struggled against it, terrified and torn. He sucked Her in and spat It back out again, a raw whisper floating into the ether, forever changed into something Else. Air. It was all She could do to huddle in the darkest corners of Herself, shocked and violated, while He breathed it in again and again; an idiot child with a new toy. The whisper echoed larger than life in the endless expanse. The first sound She ever heard was the hungry panting of His first Breath.
If you were there at the very beginning (and, in some small way, you are) you would see... Nothing. Blackness. Silence. Not an absence of everything, no; it was a living breathing Night. She was a seething, coiling Dark.
Her name was Nox. It had always been her name. She had always known it. It was not something She remembered. That awareness of who She was had always been with Her. Nox was Everything. She covered and encompassed all that was. She was alone.
Or was She?
With awareness came... Awareness, a sense of her surroundings; an awakening, like rising upward from a deep, restful sleep. It was a rude awakening. She was not alone. There was another.
She could feel Him moving, rustling in Her darkness, blundering about wildly with no sense of who or where He was. She opened Her eyes, for the first time, and He blinded her. He burned her. He was beautiful.
She Named him Lux.
She hated Him. He was her antithesis. She gathered Her Darkness up around herself like a shield. She threw it at Him in huge pulsing waves of Nothing. She tried to crush Him with it; to smother that bright spark that burned so incessantly. He was unaware of her struggles. She had no voice, no form, and no substance. She loved him.
This went on for a long time, or perhaps a short one. Time then was an unstructured thing that passed as it would, with each thought in the mind of a God marking one minute to the next. Let’s just say they were long minutes, epic ones, and the clock ticked by for some time before things changed from the state that they were comfortable in. There was Her, and there was Him.
Slowly (or so it seemed to Her) Lux became aware of Himself. He found His feet (and He did have feet, and hands and all those things that healthy, living things have) and began to move about. She watched Him take His first awkward baby steps from the shadows, at once amused and sickened by His apparent stupidity. He tottered about the unconfined spaces of Infinity as if He was looking for Something. She shifted this way and that as not to be trampled on, regarding Him with the same absentminded affection of the owner of a large clumsy dog. While He was a constant frustration, He was, at least, a companion of sorts; a welcome distraction from the roiling monotony of Her own lonely thoughts.
It came then, as quite some surprise to her, one day when she least expected it; this… Creation. It all happened so quickly it left Her reeling with the noise and color of it. Lux simply filled His immortal, bottomless lungs. He sucked Her in and Nox struggled against it, terrified and torn. He sucked Her in and spat It back out again, a raw whisper floating into the ether, forever changed into something Else. Air. It was all She could do to huddle in the darkest corners of Herself, shocked and violated, while He breathed it in again and again; an idiot child with a new toy. The whisper echoed larger than life in the endless expanse. The first sound She ever heard was the hungry panting of His first Breath.