Fading Lights

(trigger warning: literary insinuation of abandonment and death)

When the world was new, there was a lone god that loved the stars.

The god had hung each and every one of those same stars in the sky with its own divine hands, carefully constructing artworks of great beauty that could be seen no matter where it turned its gaze.

For thousands of years, the god wandered the earth beneath its feet with its eyes trained to the sky, too enamored by its own creation in the heavens to notice what it had created in the wake of its wandering. From the very footprints the god left behind, seeds of wonder and light were sown — the same wonder the god held for the stars and the same light that those very stars were created with. 

With every step the god took, another light was brought into existence. One by one, the creatures born from the light left behind by the god's footprints started to emerge from the soil, like that of a seedling, wonderfully and gloriously alive. As they woke, they lifted their eyes and saw lights — both in the earth like they themselves were and in the dark expanse of open sky above their heads. They marveled in the delight of simply being brought into existence among such beautiful creations. Looking past their brethren they saw the god, and saw the flecks of light its feet left in the soil. Soon, the creatures grown from light pulled their forms from the ground and hurried to follow the being that created them.

But all this, its accidental act of the creation of life, went unnoticed by the god, who was still too enraptured by the lights above its head to see the lights around its feet.

At first, these creatures loved their god, their creator. The one that loved their light so much it had given them form. They knew it must have been this being that gave them life, for they watched as it happened, as the indents the god's feet left behind glowed with the same soft, ethereal light that their forms had. Step by step, a new light appeared, and as those lights appeared the creatures showed their newest companions how to walk, to follow in the footsteps of the light-making god.

 They wanted to show their beloved creator their love and gratitude for giving them life. They started to create things of their own, weaved with the same light they themselves were made of, pulling wisps of their own being to create beautiful and delicate things, presenting them to the god in hopes that it will see that they can make beautiful things too, that the god will be proud of how quickly they had learned.

 But the god did not see...

Try as they might, they were not able to get their beloved creator to turn its gaze onto them.

The creatures could not understand why the god did not see them. Were their gifts not enough? Not good enough? Was their light not enough to harbor the same amount of love that the god gave the stars so far away when they were right at its feet?

"What did we do wrong?"

 they cried, 

"Why do you not accept our gifts

and continue to ignore us?"

But the god did not hear...

All the creatures wanted to do was give thanks to the being that created them, but all they received in return was to be ignored. The god did not care, the creatures realized. It would rather give all its attention to the lights high up in the sky than simply look at the ground and see the lights at its own feet.

Slowly, the creatures gave up on trying to garner the attention of the god they had once looked at with adoration. The warmth and love within the creatures started to dim, having lost the love for their light. Looking upon their fading forms, the creatures could not bring themselves to care. Faster than the god's steps could create them, the lights on earth started winking out of existence...

Only then did the god see.

The choking feeling of despair had crept into the god's senses, and for the first instance since the earth was made, the god tore its eyes from the heavens, and looked upon the once empty earth. The sight the god was met with was one that it could not have ever fathomed. It was a sight the god could not bear to see. 

Looking at the ground at its feet, the god's eyes followed the trail of footprints it had left behind in its wandering, and saw the lights it had left behind. As the god watched, little creatures pulled themselves from the ground, but the thing that it was horrified to see was the ocean of dying lights far behind the newborn ones. The miasma of despair that had ripped the god's attention from the sky had rooted itself into the soil itself. The light inside every creature, including that of the creatures who had just been born... was fading.

The god could not bear to see what was happening. For how long had it been walking? How long had it been creating life, and neglecting to acknowledge the lights at its feet?

How long did the lights suffer to cause them to become shadows?

Starting to walk once again, the god no longer had its eyes to the lights above, but instead looked on in sadness as the lights around it died. Some still flickered with the last remnants of light they tried to hold on to, but they could not meet the god's gaze, they could not bring themselves to. The aura of despair had entered the being of the creator, and its footsteps had stopped creating light...

Soon, the world was dark, and the heavens wept.

The god came to a stop atop a mountain, and looked over the land as lightning illuminated a brilliant pathway above, as if it were starlight pulsing through the sky. Just as quickly as the streak of light appeared, it faded, leaving behind a rumble of thunder that resonated deep in the god's bones. Lifting its eyes skyward, the god gazed at the beauty of the fleeting light.

After some time, the sky ceased its weeping, and the god was left in silence once more. 

"For what I have done

And failed to do

I am sorry."

The god had not spoken to anything in particular. Was it speaking to the souls of its creatures that it had allowed to fade? Speaking to the stars? Asking the stars for forgiveness? 

Turning away from the stars, the god had realized that there were things more beautiful in existence than the stars could ever dream to be, and that was the fading light of a mortal soul.

It had taught the god that there is beauty in that which is temporary, and most importantly... It had taught the god to be thankful for little things, like the little lights that it had come to love.

Lowering its eyes to the ground at its feet once more, the god started to create again, this time with the full intent of loving all that it created.