Once there was a being. One that of which was a being of pure darkness. I loomed over its world, and kept a close eye on the unknowing residents below. Every little man, every little woman, and every fragile child, it knew every one of them by name. The people sent envoys to its shrine, and they brought many offerings to its likeness. They made the long trek to pray on their hands and knees. They begged for salvation and mercy in hard times such as these. Its large void eyes stared down at them in pity, and its claws hand snapped… the deed was done… those people wouldn’t be suffering anymore.

The Being of Darkness loved this life, it wouldn’t trade it for anything else. Its rule over these people was a good one.

Then there was a fateful day, a harsh light poured over the dark world, and a god like figure descended upon their land. Its beautiful form, alluring and almost siren-like, captured the eyes of the people. They began to flock to the being and the warmth of the light that they emitted that felt like the presence of a nice toasty fireside. The Being of Darkness watched unsettlingly as its people were taken from it, they began to worship the Being of Light instead.

“What are you doing to my people?” It asked of the god-like form. It too was fascinated by the light, and could understand why its people were leaving it as they spoke.

“Saving them from the monsters of the dark like you, they don’t need to worry anymore,” they responded with words as harsh as their light, “I am a savior.”

The Being of Darkness was banished from what was once it’s world. The light being had become the god of the people, and a new Era had begun for the once dark world. The Being of Darkness watched from the sidelines, growing more restless as time went on. It was beginning to think there was no hope of returning the world to its former glory. It gazed upon what use to be its world.

People sat in the sun. Its harsh burning light had become unending. Heatstroke claimed the lives of many with every passing hour. The food that the people needed was being offered up to the god with no hopes of any merciful acts in return. The light burned and blinded them, and they were punished for wishing for the gentle darkness that used to encompass them.

The Being of Darkness could not stand for this; its people were being treated as anything but. It wanted to snap its clawed hand and end their suffering for them, return peace to them, as it had always done.

“What are you doing to my people?” the Being of Darkness asked once again as it went to confront the Being of Light.

“Putting them to use, for me, their god,” the being responded, “They’ve spent too long being unproductive.”

“This cannot continue, they will all die.”

The beings clashed and the world began to rotate between light and dark. Soon among the people, these cycles were known as day and night. The working day, where the people slaved away under the sun for an unforgiving Being of Light. And the restful night where the Being of Darkness fought for time for its people to rest.

At night, people went to the shrine of the Being of Darkness, praying and hoping that it would save them and return things to the way they used to be. But it quarreled endlessly with the light, and it could not snap its claws to show mercy as it once had.