Unfinished
After the light died, after the stars died, after the world returned to so much ash and smoke….
There was darkness. He was alone in the darkness…he was lonely in his darkness. Many times he thought he would die of boredom, of having nothing to do. He had won. But in winning, he lost.
For the first thousand years, he had reveled in his triumph, reliving each and every microsecond of the battle. He laughed when his sister's forces threw back his armies again and again with their weapons of light and hope. He snickered at the fiery blows she had rained upon him. He savored the moment when they knew they had lost, that he had won, once and for all. He would rewind and pause on the look of startlement and realization on his sister's beautiful face when she saw, at last, his master stroke and moved to counter it.
But she was too late, too late, too late. He'd crow and thrash with laughter.
He laughed and he laughed and he laughed. He laughed until he couldn't breathe. He'd laugh until his stomach hurt. He'd laugh…..for a thousand, thousand years he laughed.
He didn't find it funny any longer. He had no one to laugh at. And wasn't that the real point of watching and rewatching? To laugh at her? To make her feel the loss that he had had? The loss of…of everything? Of all her goals and loves and achievements and dreams for a better world? Wasn't it?
She wasn't there. Only the darkness was there. And darkness can not laugh. It is the absence of laughter. The absence of joy. And life. And love. And…and a million other things…
He wished he wasn't in darkness, just for a second. He wished he wasn't alone.
Just for a second, he faltered, lost his will to be the One Over All. Just for a second.
His want, his need for her, though only a spilt second long, opened a door.
He did not want to be alone. He wanted to be a part again. And what kind of elder sister does not heed her brother's wants?
She came. But not in a burst of thunderous light. Not in lightning forks universes wide. She came but he could not see her.
She could feel his desire for an end to his works and she acted on his desire.
And so, on the farthest edges of the farthest galaxies, right on the rim of the worlds, new life sprang into being. It was only a small glimmer, but, like a root that stubbornly clings to life through freezing and scorching, it shone brighter as it grew into flickering, fighting, frantic life. She watched from above, her eyes lit by the spark of life. And she smiled and cupped her hands around the little one, nourishing and protecting it until the time she could set it free.
"And so it begins again, brother," she murmured. "And this time, you shall mend the error in your ways…."
