Hope

The Cradle of light was brilliant.

The birthplace of Lumen and Irwyn’s own. The focal point of all skies and heavens which all the light in the entire universe touched, even if only as a reflection. Brightness incarnate. A place where he could just lie however long he desired, never wanting for anything more.

And Irwyn was pouting. It’s probably been years since he had started, though he was not sure. Existing in a place that had time was still… strange to him. He could still remember the ‘before’ if it even could be called that. Where all moments and impressions melded together, each lasting a fleeting eternity.

But father-flame had demanded form. He had required that reality be made and so it had been. Now that the groundwork was finally done the aspects were busy with shaping its occupants. A process he had been forbidden from participating in.

“Come on brother,” a voice sounded, muted. For it did not belong in this place. Rather, it was born of the direct opposite. Only by Lumen’s will was it even allowed to reach here at all. “I know you are angry but please let me at least show you. I finally finished my work and even mother says I had done well.”

“Then you should go gloat to her about it!” Irwyn sent back. It did not really matter to where. He willed for his voice to reach the other person and so it would. For a being like him, reality bowed to please.

“I am not gloating, alright? I just wanted you to see,“ the voice sounded again. Irwyn considered for a long while but eventually, reluctantly, arose.

“Fine,” he said as he appeared outside the Cradle. That much was simple for him. He was Starfire and therefore could move like light if he so wished.

His brother waited for him a bit further away. At the boundary where light and void struggled against each other. He was the opposite of Irwyn in many ways. His skin as dark as the nothingness from where he came, ears long enough to reach beyond his shoulders and a certain feeling of frailty Irwyn could not quite put his finger on. Well, their father had said that the last one was only a matter of time until they ‘matured’ from such deficiencies; that children were meant to be imperfect. He just hoped it would be just a few centuries longer at most before they became ‘better’. Perhaps then mother would retract his restrictions.

“Thank you, really!” the wide smile relieved Irwyn’s distaste somewhat. No matter how angry he was at his mother, he could not bring himself to blame his other kin for it. It was just not in his nature. Like the stars, he cared. Or perhaps the other way around.

“Lead on then,” Irwyn could not help but copy the smile as his brother lead them a bit further beyond the boundary.

The void grew increasingly thick with every step even though they were just at the outskirts. Irwyn could resist it, for now, through the sheer difference in potency between the environment and his being, however, there was a limit to how far even he could go. The void was anathema to his light. Even Lumen herself could not shine all the way to the Impresent Shell, the birthplace of Umbra. So his brother brought him just deep enough to be safe and then made sure they could see what they came to observe.

Void was inherently nothingness after all and that nothing could be moved out of the way if one was skilled enough in bending it. Folding it. Until any place within the entire void was just a single step away. And his brother was lesser only to the Voidmother herself. Just like Irwyn could traverse to any place with light, his brother wielded the void in a similar manner.

So they looked as the first being appeared. It did not know they observed it, it never could have. Even with his senses dulled Irwyn could tell it was not Named at a glance. Though its form was strangely familiar.

“It looks a lot like you,” Irwyn almost frowned. Indeed, the body shape was roughly like his brother's, and him to an extent. The skin was dark but not quite the pitch that came from the complete absence of light, the ears were long but not nearly as on their inspiration.

“Mother calls them Elves,” his brother nodded. “After Lumen made the Empyreans seemingly in your image, mother decided she would match her. She did not ask for my input but I thought you should see them.”

“I see,” Irwyn nodded. It made only sense that Umbra would never be willing to be outmatched by his own mother. “How do they handle birth? You do not have stars, right?”

“Well obviously not, but I invented the equivalent,” his brother smiled as the image before them shifted. What Irwyn saw next was just a pure black scene. No creature, nothing. Except that part of it seemed much darker? Irwyn focused and noticed that the darker area was roughly spherical. Also, even his dulled senses could tell that there was definitely some flame involved in the scene, even if it could not be seen.

“You made stars but with void instead of light,” Irwyn realized. “Well, I suppose it is obvious implication of your Voidflame.

“I wouldn’t have thought of it if not for you doing it first!” his brother replied “It will also take a while for my Edict to settle. Mother had insisted I take it steadily after…” then he caught himself as Irwyn’s expression quickly clouded. “...Sorry. But I am sure you will be fine! Lumen is just worried that you would do something reckless again. You know she wants what’s best for you.”

“Yes, I should not take my frustration out on you,” Irwyn sighed. “I am just… a bit sad. Even though pain is so horrible, I truly felt Alive back then… More than ever before.”

“Well, anyway, I didn’t copy your stars exactly,” his brother tried to distract him from his thoughts, returning to their previous conversation. “It’s more like I reversed them. Instead of radiating outwards they drag everything inwards with a pull that few things could escape. Until nothing remains nearby. A perfect black hole in the void itself.”

“It is a good idea. It makes the most of how your Voidflame works,” Irwyn nodded in praise though he would NOT pat his brother on the back. They would not touch. Could not touch. For by their very nature, they would forever be the anathema of one another.

“Thank you,” he kept smiling. “But that is not everything I have been up to. I worked with mother on something else: We call them the demons.”

“Just like my mother’s angels,” Irwyn could already guess, remembering the bitterness of not being allowed any involvement with creating them.

“Well, yes. But we took a different approach,” he explained. “Let me show you,” the vision shifted away from the black hole, instead focusing on a pack of strange creatures. Their forms were similar to the soulless animals or monsters that had been gradually appearing across mortal realms, except their jaws seemed strangely large. He was hardly the most knowledgeable but he was pretty sure no mortal creature had maws bigger than their torsos.

“The devourers, demons of gluttony,” his brother explained. “They embody my mother's hunger, to swallow all that is unwanted, uncared for. They will devour the very worries of the mortals across the realms. Even sadness or despair.”

“They can eat thoughts?” Irwyn was surprised. That was not usually aligned with the void.

“Well not exactly. The Named Gluttony takes all such things into himself, replacing them with the infinite nothingness within him. Some of his greater kin could indeed take away the very thoughts that cause unhappiness, swallowing them whole.”

“I see,” Irwyn could understand. It would be perhaps a stretch for most but if their whole kind relied on Gluttony with such meaning it would indeed work. Just like the angels, the demons seemed to be closely interwoven with a single Names as whole species, gaining great advantages in return.

“Let me show you the next,” his brother waved his hand excitedly and a new image appeared. These creatures seemed gargantuan, though size comparison was difficult in the black nothingness of the void. Their bodies seemed like those of very stretched and mangled horses. But they were far, far longer than taller, each with dozens of legs to even bear their weight. Tentacled appendages swirled on their back, some seemingly keeping something from falling off.

“The bearers, demons of wrath,” his brother said proudly. “They gather wrath upon their back, bearing its burden with utmost patience. First their own, then that of others. Harboring it so that it be harnessed for power when the need arises.”

“You mean if the need arises,” Irwyn grinned. “These are… so different.”

“I convinced mother we should not make them all so similar like the angels are.”

“So, what’s next?” Irwyn nodded.

“The succubi, demons of lust,” the image shifted, revealing formless dark blobs.

“They are… I am missing something, am I not?” Irwyn raised an eyebrow.

“They take away mortal desires, manifesting in their shape to relieve them,” his brother explained. “Obviously they cannot take anything from us.”

“Makes sense,” Irwyn nodded. He was slightly curious whether the Named Lust could take away from other lesser Named but dismissed the thought quickly.

“Next are the demons of sloth, the stilled,” what appeared was more of flora than fauna. It did not move, it did not breathe. I just stood there, completely devoid of any motion. A single massive bud, tightly shut.

“They take away all lethargy and laziness. All fatigue and tiredness, claiming it for themselves. They cannot move on their own but that is hardly a problem in the void. Eventually, they will be dragged to the mortal realms by its motions.”

“You made one of the sins a plant,” Irwyn could not hold back a chuckle. “An actual, unmoving plant.”

“It works alright!” he was a bit embarrassed.

“It’s a wonderful idea. It probably would have never crossed my mind if mother had allowed me to help create the virtues.”

“Thank you,” he averted his gaze for a moment. Then he refocused and changed the image, continuing. “The demons of greed, kobolds,” he said, revealing the tiny creatures. Smaller than youngling humans even, though there had been some similarity. The little things were bipedal after all. There was some similarity with dragons as well, with tiny and thin scales, tails to stabilize them, and vaguely inspired snouts. Though Irwyn doubted they shared many of the good properties.

“They will sense excess wealth and take it away. Keep what would otherwise be a burden to mortals,” his brother explained.

“Why are they so tiny though?” Irwyn questioned. “Imagine such little things trying to invade a dragon's hoard. They would not make it past the door. Unless they are extremely powerful in magic instead?”

“No magic. At least nothing they can project,” he shook his head. “And they would never need to take away from a dragon. There would be no point since monsters don’t have souls. Moreover, they grow stronger in numbers. Up to a point.”

“Strong enough to make up for their tiny frames?” Irwyn had to ask.

“Yes and more than that,” he said with excitement. “If enough of them gather they can become as powerful as a Named! Well, there would need to maybe be millions of them for that though and all would need to agree to work together.”

“How is that possible?” Irwyn was surprised. The barrier of a Name was an insurmountable gulf to get over for most. At least he had heard that was the case from some of the lesser Named he had spoken to. He wondered what would allow these creatures to close it with just numbers.

“I will show you later. They usually only do it in the mortal planes when they need to,” his brother smiled mischievously. “I promise you will be awed when you see it. Actually, we should go right now!”

“What about the last one?” Irwyn asked. "7 sins, just as there are 7 virtues."

“...We can see it later I suppose,” his brother said but Irwyn recognized the deflection for what it was.

“Why do you not want to show me?” Irwyn immediately questioned.

“Well… it’s pretty embarrassing,” he admitted.

“Did you do something wrong?”

“No, it’s not that,” he shook his head. “It’s only, for pride mother had insisted to have her way… I guess it’s easier to show you.”

With a moment of hesitation the image they saw changed for the last time. Irwyn was confused for a moment because he saw the back of a figure strikingly similar to the Elves he had seen earlier. Except perhaps its ears were longer and its skin contained that perfect darkness of the void that could only come from utter lack of light. When the figure turned around Irwyn felt, for the first time in his life, a smidgen of horror. Because what he saw was not just a creature made in his brother’s image. It was an exact copy. Everything down to the smallest detail was replicated on that creature. Every piece of muscle, every inch of skin texture. Completely replicated.

“Are… all the pride demons like that,” Irwyn asked, unsure what the unfamiliar emotion in his chest was but he did not like it.

“There are no ‘demons of pride’, brother. There is Pride himself and none other,” his brother said but rather than being terrified a slightly embarrassed smile snuck upon his lips. Almost bashful. Giddy. “Mother said that her Pride must be singular. All the power of a race concentrated into a single being. One that would oversee and remember everything forever as proof of what she had achieved for anyone who asks. That anyone who bears the name of Pride must have every reason to embody it. And so, she had told me, it is only right that Pride would be her greatest pride. Me.”

“I am not sure what to say…” Irwyn admitted. A few moments of silence fell over them. Something rose within he but he did not understand it. He had never felt anything like it before. It confused him, made him feel tired. Feel strange. “I… thank you for showing me what you have created. They were wonderful. Brilliant ideas. I really do not think I could have come up with many of them. However, I think the exposure to the void is taking it’s toll on me. I think I will go rest now.”

“No problem,” his brother smiled while the clone, the imposter, seemed as though it looked at him. As if it could see them, staring back.

The next moment Irwyn was back at the Cradle of light.

Then he slept, with desperation he did not understand.