Siobhan had divided the world betwixt the loves that she cherished more than any other, but that does not mean for a moment that the Dark Goddess was idle, she did not disappear into the Darkness from whence she came and was left to be forgotten by the thousands of generations from that moment until this one. Whilst Beithíoch and Neart guarded the entirety of the worlds Siobhan had created with them, the Dark Goddess created more things than anyone ever thought Her responsible for. They gave credit to authors and songwriters, the idiocies of radio, television, and movies. They took it from…..However, perhaps I am getting ahead of myself, however, let us go back to the moment where Siobhan walked into the Void of the darkness and pick up our tale and tell it as it should be told.


The world safe, Siobhan walked to the home she had always known, the dais not empty, even without Beithíoch and Neart to sit with her for they were always in Siobhan’s mind and heart. She could tell what they were doing every moment if she so desired, but she trusted them implicitly and would only check in on them when she felt a need come across that she did not find an easily explained thing.

No, there were things that only Siobhan could take care of, things that Neart and Beithíoch would be able to comprehend in the slightest. Their great wisdom combined would not understand why Siobhan had, in the paradise universe she had made for all of them, created an enemy for herself. Not just one enemy at that.

As the metamorphosis was occurring, there was a need, a raw and burning need to have in the world something to strive against. Something to pit her will, her power, her charms, everything that Siobhan had at her disposal, against. So in the greatness of the moment, she had allowed the seeds of these adversaries flow from her and into the Universe. She had not cheated however, she did not know where they were, what they could do, even how strong they were in comparison to her. She had purposely allowed that knowledge to be kept from her. It is not a battle if you can so easily defeat them that you against is it?


In the depths of the glacier, there was not cold and dark, but a paradise of color as the light reflected infinitely off the ice and rainbows like dust motes populated the air. The people that sat and watched them with awe were simple people, yes, but they had within them the power to harness the power of the light they fawned over. They had with them the power to direct it, intensify it, manipulate it. They were savages who had not been shown the free meat of the kill, infants who had never known the struggle.

Tall they were, all of them almost the same in the soft pink of their skin and white of their flowing hair. Thin and well-muscled, piercing blue eyes that saw anything that the light touched.

Save one.

There was a little boy, exiled by choice, whose skin was black like the night they had never known and eyes red like the fire that was sometimes used in the sacred rites. He had never once fit in with the people of the cold, he longed to feel the sun on his skin and to feel it coursing through him, allowing him to take, to kill, to destroy without thought. He did not think himself good or evil, those words were meaningless to him. he simply saw himself as strong and they as weak and they needed someone to show them the proper path to get them to rule the places of Light and to drive the Darkness out and forever purge the land of it.

he knew he could not do it yet, he was but three seasons into the thousand season life and still, his strengths were coming, all of them twisted like deformity of darkness that had afflicted him since his birth. His mother had tried to love him, she had never once shunned him, but he could tell he disgusted her, disgusted them all.

All of them would pay for it, all of them would know that the Light was the power he would take from them and before he killed them all as he had the first few who strayed too far, they would worship him as the Lord of Light and would know all of their dreams would be destroyed before he ripped them apart and feasted upon them.


Her hands had been bound behind her back, her arms then raised above her and she was hung by her wrists. The agony was intense and continuous. Her screams echoed off the trees and there was no one who could not hear the woman who had killed one of her own and been caught looking at his entrails, blaspheming the rites of her people and looking for dark portents in the blood and viscera that occasionally she would shyly place into her mouth and close her eyes in pleasure at the taste of the mother of her childhood friend.

She had not resisted when they came for her, she had never tried to deny anything that she had done. Lying was for lesser beings, besides, she truly did know the future and even all the agony she was to endure was not that which would kill her, and in that there was an infinite comfort.

So, pain raged through her as her shoulders dislocated first. The pain was dulled as she passed out from it and when she woke again her legs felt so heavy. She looked down and saw they had tied boulders to them, her elbows and wrists screaming in pain, her ankles and knees near the breaking point. They did not want to kill her, they would have done so if that is what they craved. No, they wanted something far more ruinous for her.

Among her people the worst punishment was not the things they were doing to her now, no those were simply the opening moves in a longer dance. Her people were not kind, they were worshipers of a dark goddess that no one knew the name of and they regularly sacrificed their own to her. What they were mad about is that she had not dedicated to the sacrifice when she had butchered her friend. So now, she would be rendered a cripple, then other and far darker things would be done and finally, she would be left alone, shunned and forsaken to wander the world without their darkness in her eyes, with no love for the dark goddess in her heart.

Little did they know she had known and planned for precisely that.

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