She looked it over, again and again. The Painting, created as a quiet, gentle place. She adored it so, yet it became a beacon, for at the end of the world the last would let darkness flood the old world and let it fade away.
But the souls the last world inhabited had no world to go to. But after giving the Painting a name she couldn't bring herself to gave all the souls this painting as a home. For many that needed their rest would find solace here but so many souls cried out against their fate wanting to change their final story.
So for the many that would be chosen, bearers, or simple ash, they would find rest. But those that choose to live on wailed as they circled around her nearly finished painting. She knew they didn't want a place just to be happy. They needed a place to live, to truly live without fear from the binding fire or the consuming darkness.
So that was why she was here. She sat on her little stool finishing her painting and retelling this to a person that didn't worry over her more unusual features.
She asked if they could be reborn in this world to really have a chance to live as beings that would have purpose outside of the shadow of a great flame.
The other agreed knowing that even the smallest soul would become something wonderful. The Painter was happy and would allow the professor would be able to allow these souls to grow into their own in his world.
It took time but when it was ready the way was opened and the souls that would wanted their new lives let the pull take them away. Some did it out wanting merely to live, some wanting to complete their life's works under a new world, yet some scheme for their dark deeds did not stop them from being reborn.
Souls of Disparity would be allowed new life, dark and light mattered very little in this.
Yet to the Painter merely finished her work and awaited her only family, as his task completed he would enjoy the gentle cold dark.
She turned back to this new world with gratefulness, knowing that the new world would become so much more with the new people that would be in it. She would enter the painting free to enjoy it with friends and with her dear Uncle.
The Professor was not quite sure how a small child with draconian like features enter this world but he knew that the next few years would be quite chaotic, hopefully they would help make a bitter ancient stalemate that much more interesting.
So over the years Dragons and their brethren would be born in the east, Giants of both timber and stone would appear from the north, Creature twisted by a flame most foul surfaced from south, great heroes with the will and strength of gods would be born from the center of this new world.
Yet most would find creatures neither grim nor corrupted by a gentle darkness. Thought so easily forgotten their mark would surround all others.
Now in a more civilized time the Moon though scattered would no longer abide by flying above the sky watching this world, it would now watch over heroes and take up arms to help them. Yet deep below something in the bedrock of this world would take form pondering on that even in this age it would have to prepare for a time of deep sea.
And yet four were chosen, four that have yet to really know of the new state of the world. The professor would understand why, the primeval man would know how, they sheltered within them something that have yet to be seen.
The light of the new world, the dark of the old one.
Now is the time to grasp onto the will of the world and dye it in their colors.
