Of Shadow and Puppet
In which a story of creation and destruction is told.
There existed once a spark. A small flame that danced through nothing, casting light upon objects and people alike, Leaving trails of darkness behind them where the light could not touch
That spark grew and shone brighter with everything it awoke from the slumber of a dead universe. Eventually, that spark grew into a flame, and a flame into a fire, and fire into a star. The spark had come to be worshipped by those it had revived!
But it had also become creator to the darkest of shadows, places in which that light could not reach. With resentment, those left to their stone-cold darkness grew with hate. Festering in their emotions and left to nothing for the millions of years in which the light danced.
Much like how the spark had become flame, the shadow had begun its journey into becoming fear. It would engulf those in the light when the sun could no longer shine upon them, striking creature upon creature into its abyss. The shadow would undo all the work the light had done due to its resentment.
The sun was blinded by its own shine, unaware of all the loss of its children. With every loss, its light grew dimmer, and when it could finally see again…it was much too late.
The shadow had engulfed the sun, locking its light within its chest. The warming saturation had cleansed the cold from its body, forcing soul and thought.
Both the star and the shadow perished that day, along with the universe they had created destroyed.
Yet…not all was lost. You could not destroy everything, as there would always be something for there to be nothing. When the star and the shadow fell in on one another, they built something from love and hate, from shadow and puppet.
And she was beautiful! And she was everything for the nothing that something needed so badly. And she was the lady.
The Lady Fuchs.
The Lady of Shadow.
The Lady of Spark.
The Lady of all.
And of nothing.
And yet of everything too.
But still Lady of You.