Chapter Three

They scattered
like clouds before
a strong wind,
rejected Darkness's
embrace.

Darkness was delighted. She tried to keep them close so she wouldn’t lose them like she’d lost Light. But the more she smothered them the more they wanted to be free. They scattered like clouds before a strong wind, rejected Darkness’ embrace, skipped, leaped and ran away from her clawing, grasping hands. Once again, Darkness found herself betrayed by something beautiful. She felt ugly and unwanted, slow, cumbersome and dull compared with her exquisite children. She swore she would destroy beauty.

Oblivious to her torment, Yellow led his brothers and sisters around their world, leaving trails of their vibrant presence everywhere. Wherever they went they brought new, exciting things to life, imbuing the world with their colour and beauty, their fun and excitement. Darkness watched them from afar, brooding in her isolation, a storm brewing within her, dark thoughts rolling and building, hatred stabbing away at her insides, bile poisoning her mind. She wanted to unleash her fury on her cruel children, punish them for their heartless, wanton betrayal.

A shimmering pool of water lay at her feet, bright fish swimming in it. She hated it! She plunged her hand into the pond to grab a fish and squeeze the life out of it, gasped in surprise! As her cold, sharp fingers slipped into the water, it immediately froze, went dark, her bitter energy destroying everything within it. A thin evil smile crossed her face. She had power! Her children may have the power to create, but she too had power ‐ power to destroy, power to avenge what Light had done to her.

Mad laughter erupted from Darkness, filling the air with a pale, frigid fog. She swirled around rapidly, her brittle cloak whipped in the wind, her hard skirts flailing around her as she moved faster and faster, the fog around her building, growing, then suddenly shattering into angular splinters and spears. And from the frozen, shattered spears, the icy, broken shards, Shadows began to emerge. Small versions of Darkness, the Shadows were hers, born of her wicked, dark mind, an army of wretches to do her bidding. Darkness gathered up her Shadows, descended on an idyllic meadow of bright, colourful flowers – within seconds it was gone, wiped clean, replaced by the deep black chill of eternal night. Inspired by their success, Darkness and her Shadows began to cast themselves upon every beautiful thing they saw. The darker and colder and uglier the world became, the happier they became.