Elemental

.1.

Gold, white and black.

The color of the elders simple pairing of a tunic and trousers was astonishing to those who saw it. Black, Death. White, Life. Gold, power. Oh, how he was filled with it. Being able to cast the hottest flames with a lazy flick of his wrist or being able to cast shadows to the Heavens and Hells.

Sympathetically, there was no one else to see this God-like power. You see, he was the only one who roamed the damned lands that were filled with simple delicacies that he created- also created with a lazy flick of a boned wrist. The only one who was made with flesh and bone and had the capability to walk on two legs was Him, the God of elements. Maybe that is why his eyes were pasty white yet told a tale no one has heard, or why he made the elements of the worlds obey every single command he made.

He, Mamlahs, was bored. Tired of having too much power on the tips of his fingers, tired of having no one to be at hips with when the sky turned bold shades of dark red. His fingers groped the heavy jewelry on his throat, the one thing that gave him the ability to be the Creator of everything. He usually toyed around with it, since it was one of the things that he constantly kept his focus on. That moment was different though, he didn't pinch the rhinestones or thick gems that outlined the necklace. Instead, he ripped it off and swallowed it whole.

With the last seconds, he threw his arms out and created the New World. Bridges connected the world which was cremated now into fourths and two marble stairs at the mid-center connected the Heavens and the Hells. Fruit turned sour, some poisoned useless, and the leaves decayed on branches of firm trees.

That second, the Powers were being divided in his organ. He felt it. Each thing inside of him collapse, a heartbreak or a lung failure. He didn't know nor care- he chose this.

Life would come and roam the lands, each individual given love and a future to pursue. Death would come and take the lives of those whom are finished, or quit.

Most important, there would be kings, no, Gods. Maybe a Goddess or three, who knows. Each would also be able to flick their wrist like he once did, or would be able to dance with a born element.

They would be His children, he would be their God, their savior.

A few salty tears and a cry escaped his figure and soon all that was left of Mamlahs was a corpse.