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Darkness.
Darkness permeated the universe. It was the universe, in a sense. The lights of trillions of stars that littered the sky only managed to briefly light up the ever-present darkness. In the darkness, the Symbiotes were created. They were molded, shaped into what they were. And darkness was their rippling flesh, their solitary planet, even their words, spoken wordlessly through emotions and feelings.
Still, the light was alluring. In it they found countless beauties; worlds far from their own, that were teeming with light. Light they were, at one point, made to destroy. In the light they found others. Aliens, of all shapes and sizes, plants and animals and insects, birds and fish and any mix of the sort. These creatures were intriguing, the Symbiotes felt drawn to them. The light was captivating in the creatures it'd created, so much so that, over the years, Symbiotes had left to stay with these creatures. Living side by side with them. None had known of bonding, none had joined with a creature of the light.
One, who had given up the Hive to live on an alien planet, had found itself overwhelmed. The brush of soft winds as it ambled through the 80 foot tall trees left it at a loss for what it was missing. The darkness left them all without. Something was off, a void, unable to find the thing needed to fill it. It's body trembled gently in the wind, the soft, plated frills rustling until-
It was a soft noise. A far-off yelling, one that caught it's ears. The Symbiote surged off the branch, jumping with little effort from one tree to the next. It followed the sound, growing closer and closer until they came upon the source.
A clearing, full of a species of aliens it hadn't seen before. The species were all chasing each other, playing. It was almost animalistic, seeing them attack each others in a fake show of strength. Still, watching them, there was something special about it. The movements, purposeful but stiff and obviously new to the creatures. The complexity of the creatures was beyond the small goo, but it understood the beauty in it. Unbelievably so, it understood. It could sit and watch the mammals for years, content in seeing their movements and actions.
Carefully, it slid down the tree. The creatures did not notice, busy playing. It flitted towards them, the frills waving in curiosity and confusion. They were beautiful, at least, to the Symbiote. It had to see more of them. The creatures were finishing, none the wiser to the new presence in the clearing. It was fine with this, just observing was enough. It found itself drawn to them, inching closer slowly. It just had to see one, had to communicate with one. Even if they were of the light, it can't be wrong to just-
One of the creatures, the one closest to the Symbiote, let out a noise similar to a screech. It pointed at it with a long, thin, bended appendage- one the Symbiote had never seen before. The others joined in, and several fled. The ones left seemed as curious of the Symbiote as it was of them. It balled up on itself, camouflaging itself so it looked more like an out of place flower than anything sentient. After a long moment of silence, there was the touch of something against it, which made it shudder. The frills extended, as it slowly uncurled to look at the creature. It was bent over, looming crouched over the Symbiote. A couple others stood behind it, letting this one take the lead. It tilted its head, confusion evident on its shaped features. The Symbiote didn't recoil or move away, leaning forward to examine the appendage. It drew away, eyes widening. The creature spoke more, the words shaped and directed, but unable to be deciphered by the poor Symbiote.
It was at the mercy of the unknown. The creatures examined it, but none seemed too keen on picking the poor thing up. Which was fine, the Symbiote was ok with staying in the grass. Except... It did find itself wanting to be closer to these creatures, especially the one that's currently running an appendage over its frills. It felt nice, it decided, leaning into the touch with a soft rumbling. At that, the creatures recoiled. Only for a moment, though, before deciding this noise must be one of contentedness. After a call from some other the others, the creatures all stood up to leave. The Symbiote almost wanted to follow after them, wanted to be around more of these creatures of light, but it stopped itself. It had no idea what they would do if it just showed up. Some of the more advanced planets had stolen away Symbiotes, experimented on them, hurt their collective. Would these do that? It couldn't be sure, so it wouldn't take the risk.
It slinked back into the woods, it's nonexistent heart aching for the creatures. It wanted to go back, desperately, but it would wait.
Several days past, and in that time the Symbiote found itself watching the small village from afar. Huts made of sticks and branches, weaved with alien plants and flowers of all colors and shapes. It was beautiful, and the Symbiote couldn't manage to stay away for long. It'd prowled the surrounding area for food until it became apparent it was now scaring any prey off. Now it slinked back to that same clearing, finding the same group over the same food. It chittered, which alerted them to the Symbiote's presence. They seemed less scared now, and the one that'd pet it before came back over to see it. It chittered again, moving forward in a friendly manner.
The creature bended down and, tentatively, picked up the Symbiote. It was relatively fluid; the only permanent feature being the frills that littered its surface. It purred in the creature's touch, closing nonexistent eyes to take in the slight sensory overload that'd come with the feeling of another creature. Not just that, a creature of light. Something in that was ironic, it supposed. Being attracted to those it was meant to destroy. But that was another lifetime. Another time. Now, it simply wanted to be happy. The creature held it up to their face, saying more noises. Pointed, directed at the Symbiote, it could tell, but it had never heard the language before. It couldn't understand, but god did it enjoy hearing it.
One word stuck out: Amber. They repeated the name to the Symbiote, the word slowly forming a meaning in the Symbiote's mind. It was its name, given to it by this creature as they carried it back home. It purred loudly, wrapping itself around it's newfound friend's hand. It spoke in chitters, the only way it knows how to communicate. The language barrier will be hard to overcome, but the Symbiote has accepted it. Surely, they'll find an understanding.
It was kept in the creature's hut, in an immaculate room which held barely anything beyond a slab of thick, wool-ish substance, that they'd lay on to rest, and a desk. Occasionally, the creature would pick it up, cooing words it slowly came to understand were terms of endearment to it. It responded with purring and chittering, especially at its name. It came to adore this creature, and everything about it. Everything about the others that'd occasionally come to visit, and the rest of the tiny village. Though it seemed particularly drawn to this one. It- now referring to itself as Amber- was content like this. But it yearned to understand its partner. It could wrap around, envelop them, but this did nothing for the bond they shared. It felt right, though.
As time went on, it came to the point that Amber would never leave its partner, rumbling contentedly on their shoulder or hand, keeping quiet. They shared a connection, one no other of their species could understand. They'd say wordless words, thoughtless emotions, things that only each other could understand. They were seen as outcasts, but neither minded, they had each other. The light and the dark had mixed into something new, something Amber loved with every fiber of its being.
So, when war raged through the city of creatures, it had a new, difficult choice.
To some, leaving its partner and escaping to safety would be the obvious choice. Others would insist staying and fighting would be best. Yet, to Amber, the choice was muddled in unforeseen consequences. If it lost its partner, it'd be alone again, but if it stayed and fought, their partner could die anyway. Running away with it's partner is also an option, but they themself doesn't seem to want to leave. It can't force them to, anyway, so it was stuck. Uncertainty fell through to inaction as the war devastated the countryside just a few miles from their city. It advanced as the aliens prepared or ran away. Its partner stayed, readying themself with primitive weapons.
The day came, of roaring fires and screaming shouts into the early morning air, that brought the meager amount of fighters from their rest, and Amber to shakily seep over their partner's shoulders. It hated to admit it was scared, it was longing for its host to run, to escape before anything happened. It pleaded in unspoken words, but they ignored this.
Outside, the war clashed between members of their own species. Why would they do this, Amber wondered meekly, why would they hurt each other? They weren't a hive mind, not like the Klyntar, but they were all still strikingly similar. The alien its partner cut down didn't seem much different from themself. It didn't make sense to Amber. It cowered on its partner's shoulders, coloring the armor a deep black and orange, seeping into the back of their neck in fear.
The battle raged on for what felt like ages, though in reality it couldn't have been more than a couple hours. Amber's partner cut down countless enemies, sustaining their own damage in the process, but never enough to make them stop.
That is, until one alien jabs a sharp blade through their stomach. They stopped, eyes wide in a mix of fear and defeat, collapsing as the enemy advanced. It all meant nothing; nothing in the moment Amber felt their pulse quicken and soften at the same time, the bright blood spilling out around them. Amber brought itself back to reality, sneaking out to look at them. They coughed, a shaking hand caressing the scaled goo. It was scared, scared to be alone again. Scared to watch the one it loved most die. Scared to see what happened to creatures of the light when they passed on. It didn't want this. It couldn't let this happen. There had to be a way to save them. It, frantically, waved its scales and examined their body, while they simply watched, growing paler. The wound itself was too large for it to cover, it couldn't do anything to help. At least, it thought.
Something, deep in the back of its mind, took over instinctually. It slowly approached the wound, unsure of itself but knowing this could be the only thing it could do. It pressed itself into the wound, the dark and wetness throwing it off. Then something happened, something entirely foreign to it. It disappeared into it, seeping into its partner, becoming them, in a sense. Or becoming part of them. In a sudden burst of some mix of light and dark, it could understand. Words, formerly lost on it, took shape in their new, shared space.
Safe. Protect them. Save them. It tried to press both the feeling and words through to them as it took over their systems. The wound was slowly, sloppily, but with the skill of a doctor, stitched back together. The skin looked as though it was never broken through, the insides as if there had never been any disturbance, and their blood count quickly stabilized. They stumbled, hands- it now knows that is what they were called- uncertainly felt at the wound.
"What... What did you do?" They- oh Lords, their name was Mac'Tashne- sounded concerned. It tried desperately to calm them, still sending vibes of safety and, now, love. Of course, love. It cared so much for them, so much it'd do this. It had no clue what this was, why it could do it, or how it even really happened. It was all so fast. Their partner, slowly calming down, looked at their hands and stomach in confusion, but not fear. They slowly nodded. "You... You saved me. You... Love me?" Yes! It felt vindicated. After so long, Amber could finally tell them.
Emotions rushed to both of them, foreign and new and overwhelming. Partnership, love, safety, togetherness. In a war-torn battlefield the two combed over years of experiences and actions, words unshared or actions withheld. All the times Amber felt an undying love for Mac'Tashne, and all the times Mac'Tashne had to defend Amber from the others of their species.
Their silence was broken when they heard a voice. "One still lives!" Now, with the support of its partner- its host- it could understand. This group didn't just want to fight. They wanted conquest, subjugation, unyielding control. It was not safe for them to remain here, but running would simply make things worse. Now, they had to make a stand. That same instinct pricked the back of Amber's mind, some deep knowing of what it could do, even if it had never done it before. It seeped through Mac'Tashne's skin, growing their size and shape to one massive, black-and-gold monster that roared defiantly at the group. They stopped, watching in awe and terror as this change happened seemingly effortlessly.
Not waiting for the first strike, they surged forward, scaled arms swiping at the conquerors. They fell easily, claws cutting through them like butter. Mac'Tashne didn't seem to be scared, or worried, they let Amber fight. We can win, they said confidently, looking themselves over. Together, they were something more. Together, they had a chance. And they would take it, fighting off the army of, what Amber now knew was, imperialists with ease.
They had won. Narrowly, and only because of their new bond, but they had won. The remaining members of Mac'Tashne's species returned, hailing them as a valiant warrior and a god amongst mortals. Which, in a sense, they might've been. Amber was now hidden within them, letting them converse with the others of their species. Eventually, they were able to slip away.
"Amber? Honey?" They spoke lightly, unsure. "Are you still here? Please... Please don't have sacrificed yourself for me." There was silence, but in the silence there was an emotion pressed to the surface of their shared consciousness. Love. Amber was new to words, it was odd and foreign to have to speak to communicate. It let itself slip out of their skin, as fluidly as it had originally went in, looking up at them. "Saved you. Wanted you to live... Scared of if I failed." It spoke in broken words, feeling each one roll off the metaphorical tongue. It was processing what everything was still, suddenly knowing an entire language is disorientating. Mac'Tashne's face lit up upon hearing it, though, and they carefully brought a hand up to pet it. It leaned into that hand, radiating the pure infatuation it felt. To its surprise, Mac'Tashne mirrored this. "I love you." They said with a soft smile, "I think I've loved you for a long time. I was just never sure if you felt the same..."
"Always felt the same! Loved you since saw you. You are... Perfect." Amber rumbled out, retreating back into them. They stood up, grinning. Mac'Tashne knew they wouldn't have to worry much now. They had each other, even if anything happened to the rest of their species.
Over time, the pair had become renowned as gods amongst their people. They were treated with reverence and given the chance to live in a fancy castle. However, this was neither of their tastes. A simple wooden cabin, built in the clearing they'd first met, will serve as their home for the rest of their time together.