An August evening.

“So, do you, too, long to live?”

Lilies Park was, as always, crowded with young boys and girls striving to understand the gifts they had been born with. Despite the apparent silence, the firelight cast shadows over a restless scene, filled with the curiosity of the newcomers.

One of the older ones was recounting to them how everything began. Though teenagers often struggled to maintain focus, most of those gathered hung on his every word.

The young man, nearly thirty, with chestnut hair and hazel eyes, wetted his lips before continuing.

“Alright… enough with the philosophical monologues. There’s another story I’d like to share with you tonight,” he said with a broad smile. “Do you know the myth of Thebribe?”

None of the listeners answered; in fact, some even shook their heads. The young man grinned.

“Thebribe is the primordial being from which everything was born. It is said that he was alone, surrounded by the utter darkness of nothingness,” he paused briefly. “And yet, he found a mask. He was curious—he saw the holes for the eyes. He realized he could wear it, and so he did. Then, after a while, he began to move and dance freely. You should have seen how happy he was—he couldn’t stop laughing from sheer joy. He was having fun, and it was obvious.”

The storyteller was pleased to see his audience’s eyes widen in fascination. Then, he turned his gaze to the crackling flames.

“He realized he was alone, but he did not stop twirling. That was when the dance of creation began. With one movement, he conjured solid ground beneath his feet, a surface on which he could spin. And thus, the earth was born.”

The newcomers began to understand where the tale was headed. Slowly, some of the older companions stepped forward with drums, their rhythm building in speed, syncing with the heartbeat of those listening.

The storyteller continued.

“There couldn’t be land everywhere. Much more was needed—the sky, for example. And so, with a simple step, he created it from nothing! Then he felt thirsty. Another step,” he mimicked the motion, moving his hands outward as if pushing something toward them. “And there was the sea! Then the sun, the moon, and the stars! Nature, animals, and everything else…”

A little girl in the crowd, around nine years old, stood up.

“Like God?”

The storyteller made a slight grimace before sitting down again, smiling gently at his young interlocutor.

“Thebribe is the primordial being, certainly not just a simple god!” he replied with a playful tone.

“Anyway… at some point, he grew tired of dancing. He decided to take a break. He sought a refuge far from the light so he could finally rest, and so he did. End of the story.”

Having finished his tale, the young man stood up, intending to leave, but was stopped by the same girl as before.

“And then what happened?”

“Ah, you want me to continue? I thought that was enough.”

“Yes!” the newcomers answered in unison.

“Well then, it seems this will be a long night,” he replied, sitting back down. “It’s time to talk about our parents—the true gods.”

A female figure approached the circle of mortals but kept her distance. She observed the storyteller through the slits of her white mask. The young man noticed her after a few moments and gave a respectful nod. She remained motionless, showing no expression, a clear sign that she did not seek attention.

Her white dress swayed in the late summer breeze, but her amber eyes shone with an almost disarming firmness. The storyteller swallowed, sensing her divine aura, but hid his unease behind a smile and continued.

“When Thebribe began to dance, he inevitably created the world as we know it. In doing so, he also infused life where before there had only been nothingness. Unintentionally, he gave birth to us—spectators of his dance.”

He lowered his gaze for a moment.

“But Thebribe realized he was different. Humans were not like him. One day, he saw a child smiling at him; the next, an old man watched him with weary eyes. He had company, yet the loneliness in his soul did not fade.”

“So what did he do?” a boy in the crowd asked.

The storyteller smiled.

“What many would do in his situation…” he looked up at the young audience, captivated by his tale. “He made some friends.”