Book of Arcana: Vol 0
- Reads 17
- Votes 3
- Parts 3
At the beginning of it all, it was idyllic.
The world could not be more perfect than that moment in time when nothing was everything.
Each passing spec of dust was something to commend. Parades would be held for wind that brushed their sides, and honour was given to all the life that existed.
When there was no one, nothing, no where. Everything was perfect.
Nearly.
Loneliness originated in a place where it naught exist. The very absence of loneliness was the origin of the word, and to the Almighty one, It was their crux.
What was the point of this paradise, if there was no one to appreciate it? What was the point of happiness, longing, honour, if not a soul was privy to those emotion? So they created wonders.
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