"Orb"
An orb of indescribable size, filled with relatively tiny motes of light, uncountable in number. Its backdrop, a great darkness. Churning endlessly, eternally, and ever-changing.
"Bright"
Indeed, the orb shone with beautiful lights. Its center, especially so. Within each mote of light lies even smaller specks, gathering together to form complex structures.
"Light"
Complex structures which, in the future, inhabitants will refer to as "Clusters." Each point of light is surrounded by a void that is incomparably less empty to the outside.
"Dark"
For light and brightness to be perceived, it requires something to contrast it to. And the [§|÷π€] outside of this orb is exactly the darkness needed for the light to be seen.
"Why?"
This darkness in truth, does not exist. It is an implication due to existence.
But there was a before. Before the miniscule orb, and before the Known have become it.
"...Me"
* * *
After a time inexpressible, The Orb in Darkness was no longer that. It now stood equal to its new opposition.
Nothing took the place of The [Change] when it was conceived.
And that nothing was foul.
This great brightness shone an imperceptible light. Countless moving motes of light shot out from somewhere at an immeasurable speed. At the source, the remaining light moved to its own destination, accompanied by 4 others.
* * *
There was a country named Oran, which was experiencing a mild storm. In the chaos and darkness of the night, something lit up.
A deafeningly loud clap was heard outside a certain house. A sound often heard in storms such as the one happening, but this one sounded especially close.
A pair, concerned by the possible damage their home might have sustained, quickly went to inspect the source of the light and sound.
"Oh my!"
"Quick! Bring it inside!"
A young couple scrambled after the startling revelation that an infant was placed on their doorstep. Moreso during a storm powerful enough to uproot trees.
After moving inside, the couple moved to confirm their suspicions. They were greeted by a pair of calm, gleaming white eyes. The man stammered, "Truly.. a child in this storm?"
"Who would do such a thing? It's... unthinkable." The woman knelt, in fear that her shaking hands would drop the baby. Unrwapping the cloth that covered its face, her eyes widened. "But look at him... he's perfect."
Arriving at the scene were children, a boy around 9 years old, and a girl around 5. They had worriedly come out of their saferooms to check on their parents.
But the confusion and panic soon changed into wonder and curiosity. The family of four huddled around the basket where the child was found.
Within the house, every person other than the baby was entranced. Due to the second floor, only the rolling thunder can easily be heard in the house. So no one's voices would have been drowned out by the sound of pelting rain and ice. But even if the rain and hail were audible, it instead would have been drowned out by their voices.
"It's... it's...!"
"Mommy! Can I hold it please!"
The older brother was slack jawed at the sight. The baby wasn't even crying, it just calmly looked at his family fighting over who gets to hold it.
The baby had a few strands of pitch black hair, and had a pair of eyes as white as snow. It was bundled in expensive-looking cloth, and the basket was not made of any material he had ever come across.
They locked eyes for a moment, and the boy immediately looked away. Not out of fear or panic. But because he understood why his family felt that way.
'It's damn cute.'