They say at the eve of creation, there was nothing:

No animals

No land

No plants

No sound

No silence

No light

No darkness

Simple oblivion

Can you picture that? A complete absence of being?

Then, everything changed. In that void came a flicker, a mere spark, forcing its presence to exist. It refused to sink away, so it grew. It became a funnel of light that created the first shadows, a beacon to guide nothing. For an eternity, these flickers struggle to survive within a vacuum. One moment, they did.

In an instant, they formed a being with arms and legs, a face and hair, fingers and toes.

A girl.

“Brokker! Attention!”

I was on my feet immediately, my superior glaring at me while the other two guards looked on disapprovingly. Swallowing, I said “Y-yes, Brilliant Crackle?”

Crackle’s lip drew back in a snarl, her sharp canines standing out in the moonlight. Smoke billowed from her scaly wings, a sure sign that I had angered her. “What do you think I just witnessed?”

“I-I don’t know, B-Brilliant.”

“I just saw one of my Burns, someone that I’ve had to reprimand several times in the last few months, sleeping at his watch post. Which, I might add, is one of the easiest positions to be assigned. Can you believe that, Burn Brokker?”

“Br-Brilliant, please! I-”

“Who would think that someone that has been honored to earn a spot at Lavapatch, the Dragonic’s renowned fortress, would so casually let themselves doze off while on duty? Was it the beautiful night? The moon in the sky? Do they take this important job for granted? What do you think, Burn Brokker?”

My face was burning. I could practically hear the blood pounding in my cheeks. “It wasn’t intentional!”

That was a mistake.

“‘Wasn’t intentional?’ ‘Wasn’t INTENTIONAL!’” Crackle roared, flames mingled with her furious breath. “Oh, no harm if it wasn’t intentional! DO YOU TAKE ME FOR AN IDIOT?”

“N-no…”

“DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHY WE GUARD THIS FORTRESS? Lavapatch is the most important stronghold that the Dragonics have ever held! We protect some of the most valuable treasures and information we have ever obtained! Do you think that’s all a joke?”

I gulped, sweat running down my brow.

Crackle seemed like she wanted to yell more, but one of the other Burns behind her cleared his throat. Crackle took a moment to compose herself before fixing me with a glare that had cooled several degrees but still seemed like she wanted to fry me. “If you make such a moronic mistake again, you’ll be discharged and will be demoted to an Ignite! Do you understand?”

“Y-yes, B-Brilliant Crackle!”

“Good,” She turned to the other two Burns. “It’s time to inspect the vault. I want everyone on full alert for signs of any trespassing or tampering. Do I make myself clear?” She threw this last bit over her shoulder, a growl underneath her words.

“Understood, Brilliant Crackle!” The three of us replied.

Crackle marched down the hall, the night sky peaceful off towards her left. I pushed myself away from the low wall overlooking the entrance, following my superior in line with the other Burns.

She opened her eyes to nothing, her first experience one of total solitude. She sighed, the air from her lungs whistling in the void, the first stirrings of wind and sound. She wandered aimlessly, hoping to find anything.

She never did.

Time didn’t exist, but as she journeyed, she felt what we call seconds slowly ticking away. She knew nothing but the sound of her breath and what she could see of her body.

As she realized her fruitless efforts, the girl fell to her knees and wept. Tears fell from her eyes, landing on her legs and disappearing into the abyss. The girl, after crying for what she found to be forever, was marveled at the droplets. She wiped them from her cheeks and waved her hand, the tears flowing to fill the emptiness.

With the new sensation of floating and drowning, the girl became afraid. As she was swept away in the boundless flood, she flailed for something to catch her. She accidentally tore four strands of hair from her head. They were washed away from her grip, but her fright remained for it had been forged into her very being, having experienced but three emotions.

These strands extended and wove themselves together, becoming vast enough to brace against the flood. When the girl washed against these masses, they solidified, fulfilling her wish for rescue and safety from the waters.

She scrambled to distances herself from the torrent, cutting her skin on the stone, discovering pain. It did not matter. She was safe, and that’s all she wanted for the moment.

Crackle lead us through corridors that we had to memorize the day we took a post in Lavapatch unless we would be lost in the labyrinth. Still stinging from the assault of her ridicule, I remained silent and tried my best not to make another mistake to fuel her anger. The other Burns didn’t say a word, but one seemed almost as angry as our superior while the other cast me sympathetic glances.

Eventually, Crackle held up her hand, and we all stopped before a towering set of doors at the end of a large chamber. The walls curled upwards into a dome. Torches flickered, the flames casting dancing shadows over the stone.

Crackle took a key from her neck and motioned for the sympathetic Dragonic to approach. She did, and the two of them slid their keys into different locks. A rumble came from within the walls, and the doors swung open.

As the girl laid gasping on her savior stone, she saw something that she deemed marvelous. There, taking root in the stone, was a plant. As she raised her hand, she saw the blood that she had trailed on the rocks. Her blood seeped into the land, and a sprout bloomed.

And the girl experienced joy.

She flung the drops of her blood, racing across the newly created ground. Wherever her blood landed, something new grew. She ran to every corner of the landmass, and then back, and then again, not letting a single patch go unchecked. That was until she came to rest on a patch of land that she had yet to fertilize. As she spilled her blood, the girl couldn’t resist the urge to touch her creations. The moment her fingers came in contact with its stem, the plant was set ablaze

As we watched the vault open, I heard the female Burn gasp. Crackle drew her sword, the steel reflecting the firelight.

The other Burn and I were standing a few paces behind, so we didn’t see what had startled them. As we drew our weapons and took our places beside them, the reason became clear.

There, in one of the most secure places of all the territories, stood a figure.

The girl drew back her hand with a cry, but it was too late. The flames blackened the innocent plant, springing from one to another, reducing her creations to ashes. Guilt welled up in the girl, but so did something else: anger. She had searched so long to find another being, only to have it destroyed.

She cried out, the gale from her scream batting at the flames. The girl reached for her sea, the one that had sought to drown her, and brought it back. Waves crashed over the land, dousing the flames and saving the plants that the girl loved.

With the absence of the flames, the girl realized something had changed. For a reason she couldn’t place, she missed the destructive entity. She held out her hand, letting a single drop of blood fall and bloom. Hesitantly, she plucked the plant from its roots, watching the leaves smolder and ignite.

The figure watched us in the doorway, and then they bowed. On their head as a ridiculous hat, large and extending out like a wilting plant with four stalks. On the tip of each curving extension was a bell, chiming softly as the person moved. They wore a coat with patterns of diamonds in black, grey, and white. Their pants reached their knees, but they were blown out, two large puffs around their thighs. Underneath that was another, skin-tight garment that reached down to their shoes, which were curled at their tips.

As they straightened, I gasped. On their face was a white mask, with openings over the eyes and mouth, shaped into a grotesque smile. It was like their face was stuck in a permanent, vile grin. But what surprised me was that when I stared into these openings, even in the bright torchlight of the vault, I saw nothing. They were just bottomless pits where fragments of a face should be.

“Good evening,” The intruder greeted in a cheery, light voice. “Pleased to make your acquaintance. Allow me to introduce myself.” They straightened their foolish hat with a gloved hand. “I’m Jester.”

The girl was warm.

As she held the flames in her palms, the girl felt the heat that she had overlooked in her protective state. She cradled it to her chest, the flames erasing the chills left from the waves.

As the girl sat in the desolated patch of land, embracing the warmth, an idea occurred to her. All of these things that she had created were astonishing one their own, but what about if they were one?

Her curiosity drove her.

The girl dug her hand into the stone and soil, scooping out a mound. As she did, her skin was cut anew, flowing into the earth. Quickly, the girl ran to the shore and doused her newfound treasure with the waves. She rolled the flames she held dearly with the mass, the object beginning to take a new shape. And finally, she held her treasure up to her lips and blew softly.

The messy lump was scattered as dust. As it touched the ground and plants, it formed beings of legs and fur and skin. In the air, dust became feathers that shaped into wings. Large and small, plenty and few, gentle and fierce, these new creatures roamed the land.

The girl laughed with glee as she watched her creations frolic, but as she did, the creatures noticed her glow. They were drawn to the light that she herself was crafted from.

Fearing that she may harm these beings as she had with the plants, the girl knew she could not be near her creations. And so, she cast herself as far as she could into the sea but took to the air when she saw the creatures that swam in its depths. Avoiding the amassing flock of animals, the girls escaped far away, until her glow was gone from the land.

Flames burned around Crackle’s hand, her eyes as intense as her fire. “Tell us your name!” She demanded.

The one dubbed the Jester cocked their head, bells ringing. “Did I not make myself clear? I’m Jester.”

“Don’t mock me!” Crackle roared.

“Would you prefer Fool? Or perhaps the Idiot? The Jokester? While I’m not fond of that last one, feel free to call me any names along that line.”

When Crackle’s growl became so loud that it filled the entire vault, the male Burn raised his voice instead. “What do you want here? What is your purpose?”

The Jester chuckled. “Well now, those are two very different questions. My purpose is my own business. As for why I’m here, I’m actually in the market for a Bane.”

My blood ran cold, the tension radiating off our squad was substantial. Crackle’s flames burned brighter.

“One is here, correct?” The Jester rubbed the back of their head, knocking their hat slightly askew. “I could have sworn it was here. Excuse me!” They waved at Crackle casually. “The Serrated Crown is here, right? I wouldn’t want to have come to the wrong place on bad information. Hmm, where could it be?”

The Jester tapped their chin in thought. With each tap of their finger, one of us would flinch. Every few times, I thought I saw something in the corner of my eyes and I would start. After a short stretch of time, the Jester held up a finger with a sound of success. “Would it happen to have been moved to Hearth?”

Crackle sprung, taking a flying leap, sword flashing. The rest of us followed a heartbeat later.

Despite the loss of being near another living being, she still wished to watch them. Keeping that great distance, the girl rose to watch her creations from above. As she saw them live, she felt such love that her feelings crept out of her. Pink and red and orange seeped into what remained of the oblivion, and as the girl rose higher, they became a brilliant blue.

As she observed her creations, something ensnared the girl. She was forced from the sky, her light vanishing.

It was horrible beauty, venomous elegance.

The Jester moved with such grace, knives gleaming and clashing. Each movement seemed like a choreographed step, always with a purpose. As their knives met our weapons and armor, the scrap of steel rang in unison with their bells.

They were a blur of dodges and turns and parries and cuts. We couldn’t land a hit with a blade or fire. They seemed to be everywhere, but would always find a way to slip away and appear in our most vulnerable spot.

And then their knife found blood.

Red flew, a spray from my ally’s chest. His armor had been cut away, exposing him. With one fluid slash, the Jester had found their mark. As the drops surrounded them in their spray, they seemed perfectly adequate in the scene. Like a painting, the smiling mask and knives, that grace and brutal elegance, the blood and pain, all seemed to blend together into a captured moment that made all too much sense together.

And when they came at me, my weapon knocked out of my hands in a spur of rapid clashes from their knives, I knew nothing of fear or adrenaline. Even when the steel slipped past my armor and found my abdomen, I couldn’t focus on the pain. My full attention was on this marvel of an invader.

I could only think about how they seemed to be something more, a being of nature. Something crafted of tales from storybooks.

Something unreal.