The universe is a chaotic place, held together by one thing: balance. All things exist because of balance. If there were no light, there could be no darkness. Without evil, there is no good. One cannot exist without the other, for without that balance, the concept could not even be conceived of. All things are divided into two halves, represented by the colors black and white. White has long been considered the symbol of light and creation. Conversely, black has always stood for darkness and destruction. It is at this point that a common misconception comes into play.

Long ago, there was an island populated by a tribe of people that called themselves U'th'tagar. They built their village at the base of the island's volcano and journeyed every morning to the summit for prayer. What they prayed to, or why, or even what their name meant is long forgotten. One day, the volcano erupted and their village was wiped out.

Thousands of years after this tragic event, a small party of archeologists arrived to unearth the ancient ruins and learn about the culture. Heading this party was a woman named Catharine; by her side were her husband Beiloune and their young daughter Marlene. The repercussions from that ill-fated trip would be felt for centuries to come. How odd it was, that the mountain should choose to erupt for a second time the very day they arrived.

Beiloune remembered nothing of the ordeal save for the endless screaming. He regained consciousness coughing and spluttering face down a few yards from the shore. He had no idea how he had gotten there or why. He didn't even remember his own name, at first. Then he heard his daughter screaming and it all came rushing back: the eruption, the screams, the endless sea of burning red, his wife's face as she was engulfed…

Marlene screamed for him again, and he snapped out of his trance and swam for the shore where she threw herself into his arms and cried. Even though she was only five and had no real concept of what had happened, she knew she was terrified.

"Daddy!" she wailed. "Where's mommy? Where's mommy, daddy?"

"Hush, sweetie," he murmured back. "Mommy had to go away for awhile." He couldn't feel anything. Part of him knew this was shock; part of him didn't care. He gazed blankly ahead while he stroked her hair. All he could see was his wife's face twisted in agony as the slow-moving scourge consumed her body. Part of him thought that it was just him and his daughter now, and something in his head snapped.

Things must die for new things to be born. Conversely, when something is born, it destroys a small piece of what created it. It is simply the way of things. Destruction is not always evil, and creation is not always good. People often forget that.

At the very top of the world where night and day divide the year in half, there was a small mountain of ice. Beneath this great glacier was a temple to a creature who's name is long forgotten. At the very center of the temple was an altar, still intact despite the millennia that had passed since its creation. Embedded in the stone was a symbol, half white and half black separated by a thin field of silver and surrounded by a silver sunburst.

Catharine had found this place on one of her many journeys and had brought Beiloune to see it once. She had told him the story of Eclipse, the embodiment of balance. They had spent the night by that altar keeping each other warm. He came back now, not to remember but to act. It was one year after events at the island.

Beiloune had never been one to believe in magic and fairy tales, but desperation had brought him here seeking the power. He knew he could never revive his Catharine; his purpose now was a way to keep himself and his daughter from sharing her fate. There was an incantation; he had practiced for many long hours before coming here and recited it without flaw. Then he waited.

He waited forever and a day in that cold place and would have continued until he joined his late wife if necessary.

After a while, it occurred to him that the way the light glinted off the symbol made a very beautiful pattern. He stared at it, mesmerized, until he realized he was no longer alone. Two creatures stood to either side of the platform. One gave off a soft, white glow; the other seemed to pull the light down into endless darkness. They were vaguely human in nature, with four insect-like wings and too-large blue eyes.

He decided he was hallucinating and couldn't seem to care.

The creatures twitched their wings and emitted a sound like a bell choir. Then they spoke in perfect unison. "Long has it been since mortals tread in this most sacred place. Why, then, do you seek us, now?"

Beiloune was awestruck, and it was quite some time before he could answer. "I…I need your help…"

"Long has it been since mortals conspired to upset what we represent. We are balance. We give help, but not as you ask, for to do so would upset balance. Be gone, mortal."

Beiloune shook his head in denial. "No. I've come all this way. The least you can do is hear me out." When the creatures did not respond, he licked his lips and continued. He was certain they would help. "My wife was killed by a freak accident. I'm not asking you to revive her. I know that can never be done. She wouldn't be the same even you did. But please. My daughter is all I have left. You must protect her; grant her immortality, so that she can never suffer like her dear mother."

"The world is cruel," the Eclipse answered sadly. "We regret your loss. But we cannot grant your desire. If your offspring were to never suffer, it would never learn, never grow. That is balance. All good things have their price, but all bad things come with good. Learn from your mate's sacrifice. Cherish your time with your offspring. Learn to live with the balance, for there is peace there."

Beiloune was shocked; he had been so certain that they would understand that his wife's death had upset his balance, and that only knowing his daughter would always be safe would restore it. Still, he had planned for this contingency.

"If you will not give me your help," he said heavily. "Then you force me to take it."

For the first time since he arrived, only half of the Eclipse spoke. "What can a mere mortal do to us?" the dark half asked derisively.

The light half turned to it and said, "Brother, speak not out of turn. It is in pain."

"It is a fool. Pain is good for the soul."

Beiloune took the moment awarded by their distraction to ready a device he had created. Having nothing to properly test it on, he couldn't be entirely certain it would work on the Eclipse. In theory, it would knock them out long enough for him to put a set of restraints on them. Of course, he had no way to test the restraints either. If this worked, he would never have to worry about Marlene again. If it did not…

Well, he'd be too busy being dead to worry.

He fired the gun-like weapon; it worked brilliantly, as did the restraints. It was almost like he was meant to capture the Eclipse. He took it as a sign that the gods he had just now decided to believe in approved of his plan.

Creation is not always a good thing. In fact, at times, it can be downright evil.

Beiloune knew what he was going to do long before he did it. He had spent a full year planning for the possibility that the Eclipse did not share his view. There was a small corner of the world, somewhat cut off from the rest. There were people living there, and plenty of towns. It was the perfect place for his daughter to play for as long as she liked.

He built the World Library and used the Radiant Star to power it. With that power, he created Classification and opened a door into the realm where demons dwell. Deep in the heart of the part of the Diablerie called the Necropolis, he built a second World Library powered by the Lightless Void. Using that power, he was able to Classify the demons he allowed into the mortal realms to make his daughter's game interesting. Nothing could harm her there as long as those two Libraries remained standing. They would live forever in the playground he created for his little princess.

Destruction is not always pleasant, but it is often necessary for the facilitation of evolution. In a place where nothing can be destroyed, nothing can grow. Nothing can learn. Nothing can happen.

Hundreds, possibly thousands of years went by, each day exactly the same as the one before.

Blessed monotony…