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In the beginning, there was Nothing.
And then, there was Something.
A single being, filled with unconditional Love, floating among the Void. Wherever she went, life followed, lingering in her presence. And thus, she became the Creator. When her foot brushed a star, it grew, flourishing and changing until planets were left in her wake. And the stars flowed from her hair and formed galaxies in the Abyss.
But this existence was a lonely one, for there were no others for her to share her love, and so she reached into the Void, and pulled out a Thread. And this thread was a Soul, and she took the Soul, and she built it a host, out of pure Starlight and Void dust, and she created the Earth. And from her Breath, she formed the Wind, to keep the Earth company.
But the Earth longed to be of use, so the Creator pulled the purest materials from the Void, and created the Celestials. With the brightest porcelain and the softest silk, she poured her Love into their forms, and they were beautiful. Life clung to their oiled joints and polished surfaces, and when she was finished, they were named Celestials, for they looked as if made from a bright star.
The Celestials were perfect in every way. They danced upon the earth’s soil and sang joyous verses without a crack to flaw their skin nor rust to mar their gold. And the Creator was happy. But, they were so perfect, in fact, that eventually, the earth could no longer bear to taint their feet with her dirt, so the winds lifted them off their feet and carried them off into the heavens, where they could soar amongst the stars.
But the stars could not hold their curiosities, so the Celestials begged for something new. So the Creator reached again into the Void, and answered with sturdy cloth and cotton hearts, each stitch made with a mother’s love for her children. And they were named the Humans, and they gazed upon the Celestials with awe at the flawlessness of the firsts.
Confused with this gift, but fascinated with humanity's durability and emotion, the Celestials quickly grew entertained and enamoured with the seconds. And the Creator was happy. They lived in peace and harmony, before the Celestials found that the Humans eventually wore beyond repair, and returned to naught but scraps and broken thread. So they cried out to the Creator through broken hearts to breathe life into a sturdier form so that they might not suffer through such pain.
So the Creator took their sobs and called out to the Elements that they might aid her.
With Earth, she crafted rigid forms crafted from the strongest metals.
With Fire, she scalded passion and determination into their welded bodies.
With Water, she quenched them in adaptability.
With Air, she blew life and magic, intertwined, into their hollow shells.
And thus, the Demons were born. Harsh edges and brutal actions, the Demons were not like either of the two before. They were vicious and blunt, scaring the Humans and mortifying the Celestials. They burned and broke and flooded the villages and tormented the stars, yet no other being could stop them. Their skin was unpierceable and their determination too strong, nothing could stop their growing anger and hatred.
It grew and grew until it pierced the heart of their Mother, and the Creator’s tears drowned the mountains and valleys with her agony.
The pleas of her children filled her ears as they were damaged and cut down, and as she reached out to save them, the demons lashed out, unable to recognise their mother's hand.
Upset and in pain, the Creator reached out into the Void to create something new, but found naught but wisps of the once flowing power, for she had taken too much in the creation of the others.
So the Creator took the scraps left from her other creations, and fashioned four beastly forms from stitched up silk and jagged porcelain. With mismatched metal joints and magic powered souls, the Creator bathed these amalgamations in her tears. And these were named Monkeys.
They were harsh, like the demons, yet could be graceful, like her beloved Celestials. The Monkeys were strong, yet already shattered. They attacked those deemed enemies, but protected those they claimed as theirs. They were the perfect mediators. But the Creator was bitter, because they looked broken and wrong.
The Void was pained by her bitterness and tears, so it offered one last gift. A small golden heart.
And the Creator took this golden heart, but could not give it durable form, for she had run out of all the other scraps. So she fashioned it into a body of cloth, sewn with a small silk thread. And she named her final creation Hope.
But she did not place Hope amongst the contention on the earth, for fear that it would be torn to shreds by the conflict. So she hollowed out a small rock, and placed Hope inside, then gave it to the remains of the Void to keep safe.
And then she left.
She heard not the pleas of her beloved creations, nor felt the fires of their rage. Ignorant of their pain, she could not see their bitterness. She slipped away, deep into the Nothing, and was lost.