The Scarred Heart

“When there was nothing, we were called into existence. Our purpose was to create. The three of us, The Light, all things good; the Darkness, all things wicked and unseen; and The Nothing. We created many beings and worlds and grew to “love” these creations”.

“Papa, is that true?“, chirps one of the young boys in the room, his wide brown eyes alight with wonder.

“I want to create things!” pouts his sister, sitting in the bed next to him, the youngest, her arms folded across her chest.

The other children begin to talk over one another, about who gets to play the light, darkness, and nothing.

The King looks over the top of the book, to his five children, the candlelight reflected in his blue eyes. “Well, if I could finish the last part of the page, then we will see”. He clears his throat and looks back to the page in front of him. In a dramatic deep voice, he continues.

“Many realms, many beings, many times over. More endings, with death than life, within each”.

He looks again, as his children have settled and watch him.

“To create balance, The Nothing decided, that two realms could exist. One being, a combination of light, dark and nothing, would be born and re-born. They called this being ‘Omnus.’

“It would learn to love during its life, it’s purpose uncovered over time and eventually, take our place to observe. With our purpose complete, we would slumber. The Nothing gave it a choice; should the balance be more on either side, Omnus could sacrifice itself to save the realms and be reborn or call us once more and all things will return to nothing and be remade.”

The King touches the jagged edge of the book where the following pages had been torn out.

“Papa, what happened to Opus, will they be born now? How do we exist?” says one of his other sons, his red hair gleaming in the candlelight of the room.

“Omnus, my son and no, I don’t believe so. Now all of you, that is all for tonight, I will answer that question with tomorrow’s story”.

The collective groans and complaints start, as the King rises from the comfortable velvet chair and places the book on the table beside him. He bends his head slightly to avoid hitting the ceiling. Pulling his blue robe tighter across his pyjamas as he tends to each child. He picks up the youngest child from her brother’s bed, as she laughs and squeals in his arms.

He chuckles as he places her into her own bed. “Now we agreed, you’d try to sleep in your own bed, didn’t we?“, in a low whisper.

The young girl whispers back, “I know papa, but I get scared”. He kisses her forehead. ” There is nothing to fear my child”.

The King says his last good night and closes the door. His wife greets him in the hallway.

“Why do they stay so quiet for you?” he asks, taking his wife’s hand. She laughs “They seemed to do quite well tonight, there wasn’t as much fighting”.

They both walk down the immense hallway of the castle, the large windows, revealing the night sky alight with visible stars and nebulas. Overlooking the faint outline the of city below, the small lights flickering like fireflies.

“You know, I will have to tell them who I am one day and what I have done”. His wife turns to him. Her brown eyes turning an all too familiar amber.

“I know my dear”, He sighs, kissing her hand, following her into their bedchambers.