For a time, the two stood apart in the vast expanse of the newly born universe—Aurelya suspended in the luminous cradle of the upper void, and Nytherion emerging from the shaded corridors of the deep. Between them hummed the breath of the First Being, now sleeping, woven subtly into the pulse of the cosmos.
Their eyes met across the divide, not with hostility, but with solemn curiosity—each trying to understand the other, both shaped by the same unknowable source yet formed with opposite essences.
The silence between them stirred.
Aurelya descended gracefully, her gown of starlight trailing behind like the veil of a newborn dawn. Around her, reality shimmered, bending slightly to the rhythm of her existence. Nytherion rose from the unseen, his footsteps soundless, his cloak of shadow absorbing light and space alike.
When they stood before one another, the chaos itself whispered their names through the air, echoing across time that had just begun.
"Your Highness," Aurelya spoke first, her voice smooth as celestial wind, delicate yet resonant, "I see your birth as I remember my own. From the breath of silence and the murmur of stars, you rose."
Nytherion inclined his head with elegant poise. "Yes," he replied, his tone like distant thunder echoing through caverns of time, "it appears we are of the same origin, though I know not the reason."
They stood in shared recognition, not of their identities, but of their singular status—each the only one of their kind. Twins born of chaos. Royalty without court or crown.
"You shine like the promise of dawn," Nytherion said, eyes reflecting the shimmer of her luminous skin. "Are you the one who brings beauty into being?"
Aurelya nodded gently, "It is what I know. The shaping of the formless, the breathing of life into void. My thoughts are filled with visions—I feel them yearning to become."
Nytherion looked upward, beyond the swirling mists and spectral haze. "Then bring them forth, Your Highness. Let me see what your purpose yields."
With a graceful turn, Aurelya extended her hand outward. In her palm, light gathered—tiny flickers at first, like dust caught in dawn's embrace. She closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, stars were born.
They bloomed in clusters—great furnaces of flame and gravity, bursting into existence in vast spirals. Galaxies coiled like celestial tapestries, their luminous arms stretching into the infinite. Between them formed planets—some wild and boiling, others cold and still, awaiting touch and time.
She moved like a dancer weaving constellations. Each step gave rise to comets, each breath a new moon. Her every gesture painted the dark with radiant shapes, giving chaos a rhythm, a melody.
The void trembled not in protest, but in awe.
Nytherion observed in stillness, his presence unchanging. Though he did not create, his shadow provided contrast—depth against which her brilliance could gleam. He was the silence between notes, the pause that made the song more profound.
After a time, Aurelya turned to him once more.
"What are you, then?" she asked, her expression tinged with curiosity. "You do not shape, yet you remain."
He glanced toward the churning Sea of Chaos below. "I am the watcher. The line that divides being from nothing. Where you give birth, I preserve balance. Perhaps… I am what remains when all else is undone."
Aurelya looked upon him with a strange softness. "Then we are opposites, and yet… necessary."
"And inseparable," Nytherion added, the edge of a smile teasing his lips.
Above and below them, stars continued to blossom, their light catching in the folds of Aurelya's gown. The cosmos began to breathe in harmony. A symphony of order echoed across the void—notes of gravity, time, space, and flame. Galaxies spun. Nebulae whispered. The cradle of creation rocked in silent wonder.
They stood together—child-gods of the chaos, unknown to their true origin, yet already shaping eternity.
After some more chatting and discussing Nytherion left the space-time and Auelya started creating her creation because her instincts urged her.
And somewhere, deep beneath it all, the First Being dreamed.