𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐍𝐎𝐖𝐒 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋 ¥ 𝐆𝐎𝐓

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄

ʙᴇɢɪɴɴɪɴɢ, ᴍɪᴅᴅʟᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴇɴᴅ

𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘 𝐇𝐀𝐒 𝐀 𝐁𝐄𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆, 𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐋𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐄𝐍𝐃, 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐋𝐘 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐑. Let's begin with the end of the world, why don't we? Get it over with and out the way, so we may move on to more ...important things.

Let us begin on a personal ending, the music sinks into her ear like syrup, thick and overly sweet. It causes her her throat to ache as she looks about the room. It is the man next to her that gives it away, his arm is too thick, his smirk too knowing. H̶e̶r̶ f̶i̶s̶t̶ l̶a̶s̶h̶e̶s̶ o̶u̶t̶ b̶e̶f̶o̶r̶e̶ s̶h̶e̶ c̶a̶n̶ t̶r̶u̶l̶y̶ t̶h̶i̶n̶k̶ o̶n̶ i̶t̶, "R̶o̶b̶b̶-!̶"

No. No!

Let's try again.

Let's start several millennia before this personal ending on a separate universe. We begin larger. Here is land. Here is water. Here are mountains. Here are trees, rivers, deltas, oceans, life. Here are...you...

The birds feel it first, shooting out of nests and taking for the skies, then the four legged creatures. The land shifts like an old man restless upon his old bed. Land rumbles, continents shatter.

Thats when the humans feel it.

They flee...you flee...there is nothing to run from, it is all around you. The restless old man shifts again. You die.

The end-

No. No.

We try again, at the end, we think universally, a star implodes million of light years away, the destruction is too much, too wide, too great, the black whole the once living thing leaves behind, is hungry and selfish, opening its gaping maws,it consumes everything pulled into it's never ending orbit.

Space just gets bigger as stars stutter and die-the end!

No!

We're loosing focus.

We must focus.

Let's instead start at the beginning. Much more interesting. Let's start with two women on different ends of the continent, both are expecting, two boys of the same blood. Though one shared blood with rivers and the fish that swim in them, the other shares his blood with fire and the beasts that breathe them.

"A boy, my lady!"

"A boy, my Princess."

One woman beams with tears in her River blue eyes as she reaches for her first son, his hair is like her own, kissed by fire.

The other cannot lift her arms to cradle her son, a knight holds him delicately in his deadly hands sadness in his indigo eyes. "He looks like you, my Princess," his hair is darker than night, his eyes like steel.