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The beginning of this world starts with a quiet and silent ringing in the vast black void where a vague shape forms itself into a creature, called Alsabah. They lacked definitive shape nor size, similar to that of fog. They wandered across the expanses, alone.
They called out in a hoarse voice, trying to find a sign of life, a friend, “H-h-hellooo?” There was not a single response to their currents, so they reached out in an attempt to pierce their dark surroundings of the void “Irk-!” They retracted from the inky cold, procuring a mass of clay, bunches of yarn, the finest of twine, and scissors. They shivered as their mist froze into a solid set of hands.
As they observed such a mysterious phenomena, they reached out to the yarns. As they neared the yarns, their newborn hands (as if by instinct) started to rapidly weave a small child. Long white hair flowed down, with a small tubby body that followed. Alsabah observed their creation, the taupe and nutty brown skin, and all the intricate stitches of the skin. They thought aloud, “Suuch fine handiwork,” Alsabah shuddered in awe before taking a breath “Whereee shall I put such a thi-i-ing?”.
Alsabah glanced around, resting upon their haunches. Their gaze referred to the cold darkness, then fixated upon the clay. They started smearing the clay flat, like that of a pedestal. They then used their delicate icicles of a hand to scrawl Inni as’aluka, placing the figures small feet upon the flat surface. A pleasant feeling washed over Alsabah who attempted a grin. They swiftly turned around, observing their array of yarns. Their crystalline hands glided over the fabrics, before hovering above a vibrant orange. They became giddy, giggling before snatching the yarn and weaving the fibers through and through, procuring a shirt for Inni as’aluka.
***
As Alsabah happily knitted various clothes, a pulsating from the clay flowed upwards into the body of Inni as’aluka. Inni’s eyelashes fluttered open, revealing two grey eyes. Reminders of the ocean resided, glinting vibrant shades of blue. Their eyes turned to look at the tall misty figure in the corner of their eye, fiddling with fabrics they drew from the void. They were now filled with the essence of life.
***
When Alsabah turned around to finally try the clothes they wished to drape upon their new creation, the podium was empty other than a few footprints leading off. Alsabah turned their head to the side, not too unlike that of a curious dog. They crawled around, looking for Inni as’aluka. Alsabah dug through the piles of knitted clothes, pacing around the ink inclosure.
They wheezed, for it had been a full hour since the disappearance of Inni as’aluka, slinking over to their cushion which was littered in various scraps from their search. They fell back onto the plush cushion, grabbing more yarn to replace the doll. Just as they started the first stitch, a small, round figure suddenly appeared in front of them.
“Gyahh!” Alsabah staggered away from Inni as’aluka as they stepped closer to the large pile of clothing, and Alsabah in turn. As Alsabah regained their composure, they picked up their now living doll. They turned Inni as’aluka around so they would present themselves face to face with the child.
Alsabah fished through Inni as’aluka’s fresh wardrobe, plucking out various outfits of the sort. One of them was a white T-shirt layered on top of red long sleeves, with a set of black parachute pants.
After Inni as’aluka finished dressing, they started messing around with Alsabah’s yarns. Alsabah panicked “Wa-i-it! Doon’t tou-uch those!” Alsabah’s voice drawled “P-pl-lease?” Alsabah then proceeded to cry. It had taken Alsabah more than enough time to organize their yarns beforehand, never mind keeping the yarn untangled.
***
As Alsabah finished pacifying the child, they then turned to their many yarns. They considered various toys or tools they could make for the child to play with. “Ma-y-ybe they could pla-ay-y with the ya-a-arns…” Alsabah thought, and almost reflexively shivered and shook off the thought immediately afterwards. They wondered if they could, or should draw from the ink.
They stared at the clay pedestal, and at their golden yarns. Maybe a friend, or possibly a Field? Alsabah drew out the finest of the yarn, which would flow through their hands like water as they wove. They created an insurmountable pile of wheat stalks that reached as far as the eye could see.
Alsabah then spread the clay from Inni as’aluka’s pedestal as thin as paper, where they then carefully planted the starts to their beloved Field. Once they had finished, Alsabah introduced Inni as’aluka to the Field, where they would roam as Alsabah continued their knitting. Inni as’aluka’s eyes sparkled with wonder as they ogled upon the Fields.
***
Inni as’aluka was left in the Feilds once more as Alsabah more clothing to don Inni as’aluka in. Alsabah had adopted a cloak with muted tones providing a hunched silhouette while knitting, like that of a madman (which was a relatively apt description of such a creature). Inni as’aluka wished to find out why such a thing was of interest, for Alsabah was willing to spend that of what felt like an eternity on their projects.
Inni as’aluka decided to tamper with the clay but was soon disappointed by the shallow flooring. As they scraped away the clay, they accidentally plunged their hand into the ink. Inni as’aluka shrieked at this sight, for it was not pleasant nor a known concept to Inni as’aluka. They stumbled back, retrieving a mass of earth while Alsabah whooshed over to the scene.
Alsabah panicked, wailing out “A-are youu o-okay?” Alsabah’s voice stretched thin from worry. Inni as’aluka nodded in response, acknowledging their safety. They held up the terra cotta to Alsabah, who was relieved about the ordeal. Alsabah then inquired “Whaat do you w-want to make?” motioning a claw to the clay.
Inni as’aluka furrowed their brows and wrinkled their nose briefly, thinking hard. Alsabah cocked their head, excited to see what Inni as’aluka was going to make. Inni as’aluka suddenly jumped up and marched to the clay, attempting to contstruct a small ball. Alsabah decided to bring down their cushion to watch the scene unfold as they knit.
Alsabah continued to observe Inni as’aluka, placing their “head” between their claws. Inni as’aluka continued to tinker creating various planets out of the clay. There was but a singular issue for Inni as’aluka while playing in the clay, which was that their hands would frost all that they touch.
With each carving and nook into the clay, Inni as’aluka grew increasingly frustrated from their inability to perfect a sculpture that kept on solidifying by their touch. They continued repetitively, striving to fix the bottom and top of their new sculpture, forming our north and south poles of Inni as’aluka’s world (now named “Earth”). Finally, Inni as’aluka hit their breaking point as they started to bawl.
Inni as’aluka continued to cry even when Alsabah tried to comfort them, for they were deeply discouraged at this occurrence. The ball of clay was soaked in her salty tears, forming what we now call oceans.
“W-what’s the i-issuuue?” Alsabah neared Inni as’aluka.
“I, I can’t-“ Inni as’aluka sniffled, wiping away tears, “I can’t get it to look right…”
Alsabah paused before placing a cluster of mist (of which one could possibly refer to as a “head”) upon Inni as’aluka’s shoulder, where ice started to speckle. “We-ell… not e-every-ything goes we-e-ell whe-en I do my-y-y proje-e-ects.” Alsabah said, while shifting into a crouching position.
Inni as’aluka looked up at Alsabah “B-b-but your projects alway come out looking good in the end!” they said while huffing and wrinkling up their nose.
Alsabah started to croak “Ah, uh, um… we-ell the projeeects look nice becaaause I-I try-y reaally haaard, aand-l
Inni as’aluka interjected, their throat tight “S-so? What if? Do I just not put in enough effort? A-am J just…!? … just…” Inni as’aluka crouched down, digging into their hair as they sobbed.
Alsabah’s toungue was tied as they were unsure what to say next, vacantly gazing at the wheat stalks. Alsabah’s voice grinded as they said “I usually-y try muuultipe to-ones to fix my creaaations if I doon’t like hoow it loooks. It uusuaally takes a while to get the deeesired eeeffect, and moost of the time my-y projeeect is never perfeect. Eveeen so, do you knoow whaaat’s different between youuu, my first projeeect, and the reest?”
Inni as’aluka shook their head, so Alsabah continued “Weell… I’ve never revised youuu sinceee I thought you weeere perfeect! Yet, if youu weeren’t, wouldn’t thaat mean that you’re still a work in progreeess?” Inni as’aluka nodded in response, to which Alsabah mimicked in agreement.
***
Inni as’aluka was resting in the Fields, revising their spherical creation to their liking. One odd thing Inni as’aluka noticed was that no matter how many times they tried to fix it with their clumsy woven hands, it wouldn’t turn out as it did in their thoughts. Tears rained down in on Earth as they wondered Why it wouldn’t- no, couldn’t just work out.
This is pointless! They thought, circling back again. Inni as’aluka stared at their hands, and the individual stitches, the folds, the mindfulness in the structure. Their eyes drifted back up to their sculpture, which was messy and uneven. They wondered how it could be that those same hands made something so different.
They stared into their reflection of tears and suddenly noticed something. In their left eye was a spark of blue. They were completely and utterly shocked at such a small speck of blue, an outsider might’ve found it amusing. 'B-but what Alsabah made was always perfect.' Inni as’aluka’s thoughts clashed with one another. 'Yes, and- but then - well, you know- and there’s- they mentioned-' Inni as’aluka realized something. They could never be perfect. Alsabah could never be perfect, for they were a mist made from ink. Inni as’aluka could never be perfect because they were made from that same ink.
They wrinkled their nose and sighed. Their eyes drifted away from their Earth, into the void. They wondered: Who was it that truly created this?
Then, they looked at you.
~Fin~