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Light scours the world, shining brightly. The light of truth is no different - when they were created eons ago, they were born from human greed. They were born to despise mortalkind, born to burn.
Greed disgusted them. Humans tore each other apart, all for nothing more than impermanent baubles of 'status.' They saw these humans - these creatures playing at war with utterly arcane ambitions - and were disgusted. Humans really did do a lot of mewling and grovelling when they weren't high and mighty and confident in their divinity. Fools, the lot of them. Fools.
Under the shining light of fire, even the twin princes quailed. This was not a light of life. This was a light of ruin, for Truth deemed them unworthy. Flames of expiation devoured everything in their path. The world burned all around them, and humans could do nothing to stop it. The dragon of light listened to those dying screams rip through the skies. They watched greens and yellows and browns consumed by that shining fire, leaving behind simply grey.
Why should they care? They were Truth, incorruptible by the will of mortals, witness to all things. They were a dream, mighty beyond true dreams and embodiment of a will. They outshone and extinguished mortal light. And when it was all done, there were only ashes.
After all, they remembered. There was a time when greedy kings gestured to Balance as a trophy. There was a time when humans squabbled over ideology. There was a time when humans ripped souls to pieces. And in doing so, they were created - a light without any darkness to blemish it. A pure creature.
Pure Truth, whose soul was full of hatred.