Work Text:
On an unknown island, lost somewhere, a being awoke. It didn't know who it was or what it was. It had no name and no form. Only its undefined presence lingered.
The island was vast. There were mountains, plains, sand, and stone. But there was nothing alive. No movement, no sound beyond the wind and the waves. The being wandered for a long time, feeling the warmth of the sun and the coolness of the night, but without understanding what any of it meant.
Until, one day, it looked up at the sky.
And it spotted a small, fast red flying being, cutting through the blue like a living ember. The being stopped. Something inside it vibrated for the first time.
The red "bird" flew away and disappeared into the sky. But the being kept staring at that point in the sky. And it stayed there, for a long time, wishing to see the red being again.
After a long time, the being saw the red "bird" again.
This time, it wasn't alone. Others flew with it, in circles, like a dance in the air. The being watched that scene with a strange sensation: a mix of awe and emptiness. It wanted to be there. It wanted to be like them. It wanted to be together.
It tried to attract the birds. It stretched out its existence like an invisible thread, trying to call them, but they didn't respond.
They couldn't see it.
They couldn't feel it.
Then the being thought: "If I can't go to them or attract them to me, I'll make my own." And so the being began to try to create.
With effort, the being shaped the island. It made trees that swayed in the wind, plants that opened to the sun, lakes that reflected the sky. It carved deep caves, made crystals shine in the rocks, and waterfalls sing over the stones. It created a home. It created beauty.
But life was missing.
It tried to make a being similar to itself, something that could stand by its side, but everything it created dissolved like smoke. The forms wouldn't hold. The existences it tried to create dissipated.
The being suffered. It looked at the empty sky and wondered: "How did they do it? How did they manage to have each other?"
The being decided to try something smaller. Something tiny, just to test. It shaped a bubble of existence. It hovered in the air for a few moments, then fell apart. It tried again. And again, until, on an attempt near the lake, the bubble floated and entered a stone. And there, inside the stone, it held firm. It lasted longer before fading. It didn't dissipate so quickly.
The being understood: existence needed a body. Something physical to hold onto.
Then it made a body. A small brown bird, similar to the ones it saw in the sky. Carefully, it breathed an existence into it, and for a few seconds nothing happened, the being thought it had failed again. Then the small bird opened its eyes. And it sang.
It was the first time the being heard something beyond the wind. And in that sound, it felt a joy it didn't know existed.
Excited, the being created more.
Fish for the lakes, sheep for the fields, ravens for the trees, wolves for the forests, and many other creatures. It didn't always work—many forms fell apart before gaining life, but when it did, the island gained a new sound, a new movement, a new soul.
The island, once silent, now breathed.
But the being still missed something. Someone like itself. Someone who could keep it company. Inspired by the creatures around it, the being decided to make something grand, something more like its own existence.
It shaped a enormous red bird, bright, majestic, like fire in the form of a bird. Its feathers shimmered like embers. Its eyes promised intelligence.
The being worked with all its essence to give that bird a strong, lasting, true existence, and when it was finished, it placed the essence inside the bird.
For a moment, the bird glowed intensely. But then something went wrong. The existence inside it began to consume itself, to burn from within, like a flame that devours its own fuel.
The bird was vanishing.
The being fell into despair. It couldn't let that happen, not after everything. So, without hesitation, it did the only thing it could: it gave away its own existence to keep the bird alive. It felt its essence drain away, and with each moment it grew weaker, fainter, closer to disappearing.
But the bird opened its eyes. It breathed, moved its wings, and tried to understand what was happening. It was truly alive and stable.
The being, even as it faded, felt immense happiness. It had succeeded. It had created something that would exist like itself. Something that would be there, on the island, alive and thinking.
The bird looked at it, and even without appearance, without a face, the being smiled. And then, like a breeze that dissipates at dawn, the being ceased to exist.