Concordia
an excerpt

Beginning at the Beginning...

If you were there at the very beginning (and, in some small way, you are) you would see... Nothing. Blackness. Silence. Not an absence of everything, no; it was a living breathing Night. She was a seething, coiling Dark.

Her name was Nox. It had always been Her name. She had always known it. It was not something She remembered. That awareness of who She was had always been with Her. Nox was Everything. She covered and encompassed all that was. She was alone.

Or was She?

With awareness came... Awareness, a sense of her surroundings; an awakening, like rising upward from a deep, restful sleep. It was a rude awakening. She was not alone. There was another.

She could feel Him moving, rustling in Her darkness, blundering about wildly with no sense of who or where He was. She opened Her eyes, for the first time, and He blinded her. He burned her. He was beautiful.

She Named him Lux.

She hated Him. He was Her antithesis. She gathered Her Darkness up around herself like a shield. She threw it at Him in huge pulsing waves of Nothing. She tried to crush Him with it; to smother that bright spark that burned so incessantly. He was unaware of her struggles. She had no voice, no form, and no substance. She loved him.

This went on for a long time, or perhaps a short one. Time then was an unstructured thing that passed as it would, with each thought in the mind of a God marking one minute to the next. Let’s just say they were long minutes, epic ones, and the clock ticked by for some time before things changed from the state that they were comfortable in. There was Her, and there was Him.

Slowly (or so it seemed to Her) Lux became aware of Himself. He found His feet (and He did have feet, and hands and all those things that healthy, living things have) and began to move about. She watched Him take His first awkward baby steps from the shadows, at once amused and sickened by His apparent stupidity. He tottered about the unconfined spaces of Infinity as if He was looking for Something. She shifted this way and that as not to be trampled on, regarding Him with the same absentminded affection of the owner of a large clumsy dog. While He was a constant frustration, He was, at least, a companion of sorts; a welcome distraction from the roiling monotony of Her own lonely thoughts.

If you were there at the very beginning (and, in some small way, you are) you would see... Nothing. Silence. Not an absence of Everything, no; it was a living, breathing Night. Something Alive seethed and coiled there in the Dark, immense in its black on black on black…

Her name was Nox. It had always been Her name. She had always known it, just as She had always known what She was. Goddess. The past was not something She remembered, but something that simply was. It tumbled in the back of her mind, disjointed and faint, like the remnant of a dream. Nox was Everything. She covered and encompassed all that was. She was alone… Or was She?

With self came… awareness, a sense of her surroundings; an awakening, like rising upward from a deep, restful sleep. Her subconscious slowly altered from a blissful state of ignorance, a state quite akin to true Peace, to a sudden realization. It was a rude awakening. She was not alone. There was another.

She could feel Him moving, blundering about wildly with no sense of who or where He was. Who was this brash intruder? Where had He come from… or had He always been there? She turned her attention towards Him, seeking answers. Opening Her eyes, She saw something besides the deep darkness of her own thoughts for the first time. He blinded her. Light! It left it’s searing imprint on her mind’s eye. She would never forget the sight. Him. He was so very, very beautiful. She Named him Lux.

She hated Him. He was Her antithesis. She gathered the furthest tendrils of Her Darkness up around herself like a shield. She threw it at Him in huge pulsing waves of Nothing. She tried to crush Him with it, drown him with in it, to smother that bright spark that shone so incessantly. He was unaware of her struggles. She had no voice, no form, and no substance. She was ignored. Nothing. Oh, how She loved him.

This went on for a long time, or perhaps a short one. Time then was an unstructured thing that passed as it would, with each thought in the mind of a God marking one minute to the next. Let’s just say they were long minutes, epic ones, and the clock ticked by for some time before things changed from the state that they were comfortable in. There was Her, and there was Him.