The New Gods

She felt the first sharp pain early, and knew instantly what would arise from that great, terrible darkness swirling without and within. In the name of Queen Aeon, this was no ordinary birth pain! The first sharp horn of her tiny burden cut the old draconequus deeply, and with this single, biting stab came the affirmation that this; this, finally, would be the last. The last for her, and the last for the world. Here, from her very own belly, would come the end.

As the stab widened, the searing pain spread, in a line, across her engorged belly, she swallowed in the filthy spirits of the black, heavy, oppressive air around her and gave a mighty gasp. She would not betray her race or her lifetime. This would be a mighty creature, one of power unheard of. If her species is to end here, it would not go down without a fight.

Grinning savagely at the irony of her cruel and darkened world, she began to push, desperately, at this final and most painful gift to the world. The hours stretched on, and no star rose, and still she lay there panting and the darkness would not break. The light and hope of this world would not shine upon her most glorious and special creation. If her life had been lived in darkness, so would her final act. She gasped. She pushed. She grinned. She tore apart.

Faster and harder the cuts came from within, this strange new child writhing, as if aware with the sudden knowledge that it only had a short time to bring itself into the world. It kicked, and it pushed, and it bucked its horned head.Like a terrible snake, it contorted itself against the red-black world of its first and most loving of prisons. Terrible little talons, as of a young eagle, tore at the living walls around it.

Then came the blood, as the bulge in her belly reddened and loosened. In a fit of savage desperation for life came this child into the world, in time only for its mother to lay down by the bones of her mate, and bleed out her final breath in a single word, screamed out to the darkened world:

DISCORD.

So fell the name heavily upon the tiny bloodied infant struggling its way from beneath the burden of its mother’s flesh. For it would be its destiny to someday bring oblivion to the harmony of this strange land, still shrouded in such darkness so late.

In this darkness lay the draconequus, and knew not light, nor love, nor joy, nor warmth at its birth.

Instead, laying in the wet and tender darkness of a world still new, touched only by the last falling drops of its mother’s blood, the miniscule creature instinctively knew only of one thing:

I. Am. Chaos.

So the darkness stretched out across this brave new land, and so the creatures slept in their dens and huts, oblivious to the hour. Only some of the creatures awoke, their horns tingling, vaguely aware that something of great significance was occurring. With instinctive trepidation they rolled over in their beds and forced themselves to close their eyes, whispering words of comfort to their disturbed loved ones. This darkness would last far longer than any before it in the history of those wide-eyed, horned little creatures.

Aeon lay, panting and hurting, the magic of her body pulsing greater than any force she had ever created before. Her coat shone and sparked, radiating a mighty and terrible heat.

Lumos paced by her side, always by her side, his heart wrenching and twisting between his great loves and duties: for the safety of his wife; for the wonder at the glorious darkness and light in her pain-stricken eyes; for her need to be well and ready, for her people, her world, and for him; for his duty to the people of this world, to bring them the light that would arouse them from their slumber, make them alive once more after this great time of darkness; more so, for the duty to his wife, to remain at her side at this critical moment; and finally, for that long-burdening lump upon her, slowly descending between her quivering thighs, and all of that strange wonder of the new and unknown being which would arise from it.

The force of magic pulsed in and out from her enormous, darkened figure, and her husband breathed a gasp of sudden shock, and horror, awe, and wonder, pain, and of love, as her magic radiated from her one final time, and a single, tiny horn of purest white gently and slowly emerged, in a smooth movement from the darkened space within her.

The mages recorded a great and drastic change in the composition of the world’s brightstar during that time of great darkness, as its dim light was finally ignited into a sudden fiery orb after eons of compression and transformation in the darkness of their clouded universe.

That morning; the first real morning, as it was called; the creatures of the world awoke to the experience of the most gloriously beautiful sunrise ever to be witnessed: Pink and gold, warm and soft with hints of blue, green and deep purple against a sky more brightly lit than ever known before.

Thus the sun goddess was born; as yet oblivious to her greatness in this wondrous new-born realm of light, and life.

And far out beyond the golden-lit forest orchards of the palace gardens, a tiny, bloodied beast, misshapen as if pieced together from many different animals, crawled slowly out from a dark and bitter cave, and looked out at this light, and wondered. Wondered at its suddenness, its strangeness, and its beauty.

Slowly, a smile crept out upon its tiny face, and for a moment, this wondering child felt something it would not feel again for a long, long time: It felt joy. Joy, at nothing less or more than this incredible new sensation of being alive.