"There was nothing until there was something. Until nothing arose again."
The young man`s hands gripped the candle tightly. The source of light reacted to his presence. The tiny flame on top was in a soft shade of lavender. It mirrored the purple motes that danced around him on a whim. The fire reflected off his golden eyes.
The room around him was much clearer now. It was rusty and dusty. "What a joke," he thought. The bitter thought riddled in his mind like a vow he must fulfill.
The young man was in between an old, wooden desk and a dirty bed. There, above the bed was a square shaped window. There was no point looking out though. Beyond the window was utter darkness. No moon nor a star. Not even the slightest grain of light touched the world outside.
The young man drifted through his mind until his eyes gave the room their undivided attention. His steps followed each other in rhyme. "What more could I need here?" he thought darkly. This place had everything he needed—but not everything he wanted. He wanted more, he wanted it all as much as he wanted anything.
There was no door to walk out of. There was no voice to guide him. All it had was survival. He looked around to observe more of the room. The dust flew around the lavender flame, circling it violently. He hated it. His fingers stabbed deep into the wax and then crushed the candle completely. The flame vanished but for a heartbeat. Alas, the tiny flame surged at once, dancing throughout his soft, naked body. The flames outside twisted with the flames that gnawed inside his damaged heart. The motes of purple danced in song, uniting with the flames in a lament of a lord`s absence. And as if celebrating the ascension of a new one. The flame rose in black fyre. The young man`s figure became ghostly, much dreaded. He was filled inside out by the black flames of destruction.
The room melted away like it never ever even existed before. He was a lord amidst nothing, enforcing his will to the emptiness around him like a flaw who was mistakenly placed there.
The burning black fire continued its march until the reaches of eternity would succumb into it. The endless void spread towards infinity until the more of the purple motes greeted them. The particles forming the world for the young man. Destruction is his now. Eventually all would be consumed by the black flames. Everyone with a face or not. Everything with a purpose or not. All would be in the tidal wave of the black flames. And in the middle swirls a boy—a god of ruin. Nothing would matter. Good man would be excused. Evil acts and rest will thou be praised by him? The very construct of the fraud world swallowing him would be purged. A war without grace or love. From this point forward, following any order is meaningless. A senseless plan against his wishes.
But the world had other plans for the young god. They gave him sentience and emotions. They gave him a consciousness which could dream. A body—he—which could move with just the linger of a desire. The young god smiled absurdly through the raging hunger of the black flames. The young god loved it here. He felt accepted. His golden eyes remained untouched by the shadowy flames. But then the young god demanded more of the world. He tried reaching for the very same love he had forsaken the moment destruction made contact with his shattered heart. The gentles lie. The absurd smile on the young god`s face spread wildly. His teeth became keener, his words sharper, his desires malicious.
The purple particles which had greeted him earlier were now against him. They, before the young god`s blazing body—formed flesh and bone. Then, those flesh and bones took life. There she was. A girl with long, silk black hair and gentle dark eyes. Her face was sweet and admirable. The girl`s black hair swayed in the cold wind that brushed the two lost souls. The young god reached for her but couldn`t. He was too far away, yet so close. The girl closed her eyes for a mere second, then she opened them with a surge of love. Although, this time—her eyes were not dark and gentle. They were blue and demanding. The girl`s hair had thawed to sky blue. The young girl smiled at the young god. But now there was no more a young god but a boy once more. The black flames had faded. He had golden eyes and long blonde hair. His face was handsome but feline. Fifteen of age perhaps—both of them. The two young lovers' eyes widened and mirrored one another. This time both of them reached for the person in front of them. They ran towards each other and hugged each other`s naked body. They embraced the moment and cherished it. But then they were no longer hugging—because they were no longer human—they were more. And they both had an indispensable duty they were sworn to fulfill. And now the grace of purple calls upon them. And not just them alone. It beckons the ones who must bear to be Awakened. And before the young boy could be what he must be once again, he is given one more counsel by the flames spurned by the grace of love.
"There is no god to save us."