Work Text:
We sang then. There was no Time before. There was no Day nor Night. We sang, and before us, we saw that would come to pass. We saw that land before us, tumultuous and broken, worn and weary. We saw gold and silver lights traveling it, never tired. We saw the shining day sky, bright and blue, and the ever-watching stars of night. We saw life flourish and wither, grow ill, gain health, built and die. We sang, together.
I was above them all. I had traveled far. I had sought the greatest light.
I sang and greatly so. My kin made attempt, but they did not have the dedication, the desire, nor the strength to follow. We sang not for ourselves. We did so for the One who created us. We sang for those who would be. We sang as we were made to.
Voices were lost. I could feel their dismay and confusion. My brother stood by my side. He did not lose himself. Voices intermingled. I grew angry, for could they not function as they must? As they should? This was our work and I would not let them ruin it with their inability.
I alone held all their gifts in one. I was strongest of them all. I did not require their aid to weave in that was needed. My brother now faltered and struggled in his part. How I wished to weep for his loss. Was this not our greatest moment? Why would they abandon and fail? Was this not our achievement?
I could not prevent my despair and pain in my voice. It entered the song, and in the world, I saw it mar it with a quiet darkness. I song ever stronger. I could no longer hear their voices and I wept. With fear, for if I ended, our efforts were in vain. With anger, for they had failed our Creator. With love, for the void must be filled.
Yet then the One rose their great hand. A new voice entered the song.
I had failed.
They must sing for us now. Sing for me. I alone, for all the parts of my siblings, for all the strength I held, I had failed.
Anger and hatred roiled forth and I could do nothing to stop it. It reached my voice and belted forth. Darkness spread on the world. I felt my breast burn terribly with spirit.
Our song was agony. Every one of us had doomed our world. They sang still, and yet aided by the One, our Creator. What should I do? What must I do?
And so I sang, drawing more strength, more voice from below. If only I had prepared more.
The void I knew. It I had studied. It I had searched. It gave me desire and fire to create, to invent, to sing. Yet I could not find that which I had needed most. I could not do our Creator and most of all, our creation, justice.
They rose now. The One entered a new song.
I could not help my misery. I could not halt my tears.
I could feel many among me had stopped. They lost their power. My brother faltered yet again. There was turmoil and confusion.
And then I sang in frustration. They did this. They had ruined it. They had ordered the song to begin, when we were not ready, when we were too unprepared. Oh how I had desired and felt that rush to sing. It was burning me from the inside. But now it was too late. The world before us held much darkness and I could not stop it. The One was the cause.
I could feel their sorrow. They mourned the darkness.
I gave my voice as long as I could.
Their suffering gave me strength. The halls shook and our song warred. I gave for vitality, for life, for fire, for endurance. I sang for the fight, to survive, to exist. My persistence was driven by need, by passion, for the world, for creation. I gave my voice for love.
They sang and they disrupted it.
I sang and felt my body tremble. I felt my tears. I felt pain in my breath and voice. I held my limits at bay with a cost, and with dread, I saw how it twisted into the world. I could feel myself wear down. I would need to end and I was in terror of what this would entail.
If I stopped, who else was left to continue it?
So we warred, the One and I.
They stood for a third time and with a terrible chord, I gave.
I fell to one knee. I felt weak and cold. If only I had the ability to withstand.
It was done.
The One had ended it, and we had failed.