In the beginning, the universe was a void, a canvas of scattered light and endless darkness. From the emptiness, the goddess Viseyra was born, bestowed with the power to shape creation by the mysterious entity Ga-Eywa. Tasked with bringing balance a...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Celestine ran toward Arthaz, her thoughts spinning with confusion and fear. Tears streamed down her face as she reached out to him, his disintegrating form flickering like a dying flame.
"Father? What just happened? What's happening to you? Why are you disintegrating? Where did Mother and Taros go? Why did the door open—and then seal shut? There's so much happening, I can't keep up. Please... please explain. I'm scared!" she cried, her voice trembling as her emotions poured out.
Arthaz, his once radiant presence now fading into specks of light, turned to his daughter. His voice was calm yet tinged with sorrow, like the final note of a song. "My beautiful daughter," he began softly, "I am so sorry for all the confusion. I only hope I have enough time to explain everything to you."
Celestine gripped his fading arm as if trying to keep him grounded in this world. Her tear-streaked face looked up at him, searching for answers.
"I must apologize for the father I failed to be," Arthaz continued, his voice weighted by centuries of regret. "As the firstborn, the primordial God of Light, and the father of the celestial family, the burden was overwhelming. Verseya created me with great purpose, but I wasn't ready—no one prepared me for what it meant to carry such responsibility. I suppose I longed for the guidance of a mother figure like Verseya, but she left us too soon. To me, she was not just a creator but the closest thing to a mother I would ever know. When she abandoned us to discover the cosmos on our own, I felt like a stray, lost and directionless."
He paused, his eyes glimmering with light as fragments of his being dissipated into the air. "Azura helped me through those early days. She was fearless, adventurous—a force of nature who led where I hesitated. She was my strength when I lacked it, my protector when I faltered, and in her, I felt a care I had never known.
"But my feelings for her grew beyond that. At first, I didn't understand what I felt, but eventually, I realized it was love. True love. When Verseya's power exploded into the cosmos, creating our beautiful palace, it was Azura who shrouded me with her darkness to protect me. She led me inside to explore it, despite my skepticism. Because of her, we had a home—a place to call our own."
Arthaz's form flickered again, the disintegration accelerating. "But I failed her, Celestine," he confessed, his voice trembling. "I was supposed to be the leader, the protector, the father. Instead, I let my insecurities and fears poison me. I failed. I failed you and Taros, and I failed myself."
Celestine listened in silence, her heart breaking with every word.
"When you and Taros were born," Arthaz continued, "I grew jealous. Not of you both, but of the bond Azura shared with Taros. I saw in him the love of a mother—a love I never knew. My jealousy consumed me, and I distanced myself from Azura and Taros because I could not bear my envy.
"I should have been there for Taros, should have understood him, encouraged him, celebrated him. But I didn't. I pushed him away. This... this is why everything that has happened today is my fault. If I had been open and present, Azura could have told me about her visions, and together we might have prevented this. If I had been there for Taros, I might have guided him. Instead, I allowed my own weaknesses to poison our family."
Tears welled in Celestine's eyes as she listened to her father's confession. Arthaz's light dimmed further, and his voice became faint, like a whisper on the wind.
"But you, my daughter," he said, his tone softening with warmth, "you are the best of me. You inherited my light, my goodness, and my hope. That is why I am giving you everything—all of my power, my very essence of light and creation. You deserve it far more than I ever did."
"No, Father!" Celestine sobbed, shaking her head. "You deserve a chance too! We all do! It's not all your fault. I made mistakes too. I knew Taros was pulling away, and I let him. I was so consumed with trying to make you proud during the demonstration day that I lost sight of him. I was selfish, and now I've lost my brother. Taros, if you can hear me—please, forgive me!"
Arthaz's form was now almost entirely gone, his voice a faint echo. "My daughter," he said, "I have so little time left. Just remember this: you are the best of me, the purest representation of all celestial beings. Use my power wisely. You will bring balance to this universe once more."
And then, in an instant, Arthaz was gone.
Unlike the gods who came before him—Ga-Eywa and Verseya—there was no lingering sense of Arthaz's presence in the universe. And unlike Azura, who left behind an essence born of love and sacrifice, Arthaz left nothing but guilt and shame. Yet, far in the distance, a star flickered to life—the first star in the universe. It glowed with Arthaz's light, a silent testament to his existence.
A wailing sound echoed across the cosmos, as if Verseya herself mourned his passing.
