Chapter Three

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

Darkness was bathed in the joy of her children and endeavoured to keep them close for fear of loss. But the more she cossetted and smothered them, the more the Iris Warriors strived to be free of her – scattering like wisps of cloud in the force of a powerful wind.

As they skipped and danced away from Darkness’ clawing embrace, another feeling grew within her. Once again, Darkness felt betrayed, and found herself – ugly, slow and dull in comparison – consumed with fury. She hated being alone, and so vowed to destroy the Iris Warriors’ beauty.

Oblivious to her torment, Yellow led his brothers and sisters far away, across the world, trails of their lively presence following them as they went, imbuing life with colour, fun and thrill. Darkness brooded from afar, a storm brewing, the dark thoughts rolling and building as hatred stabbed away at her insides and venom poisoned her mind. She longed to unleash her fury on her cruel children, to punish them for their heartless, wanton betrayal.

A shimmering pool of water lay at Darkness’ feet, fish of the brightest colours, conjured by her children, swam within. She hated it! She plunged her hand into the pool, intending to capture a fish and squeeze the life from it, but as her cold, sharp fingers slipped beneath the surface, the water froze and darkened. Her fury and bitterness had destroyed everything within. A thin, evil smile crossed her face: she had power! Her children had the power to create, but she too had power ‐power to destroy and avenge what Light had done to her.

Mad laughter erupted from Darkness, filling the air with a pale, frigid fog. She spun rapidly, her brittle cloak whipping in the wind, her rigid skirts flailing as she moved faster and faster. As she spun, the fog around her swirled, grew and began to freeze, until suddenly it shattered, scattering piercing shards and spears of ice. Then, from these fragments, shadows began to emerge, small dark shadows formed just as Darkness herself. They were born of her wicked, dark mind – an army of wretches ready to do her bidding.

Darkness gathered her Shadows, and together they descended on an idyllic meadow of bright, colourful flowers. In moments that meadow was no more, just the pitch-dark sombre of an eternal night remained. Inspired, Darkness and her Shadows cast themselves upon every bright thing they unearthed – the darker, colder and uglier the world became, the happier they were.