Soraya

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Long ago, when the world was new and the blanket of time was not yet woven, there existed an elder being whose names were sung by the skies and carried by the wind. The Ram-woman, the Giver… S’nari.

Unlike the others of her kind, S’nari was not content with the thought of simply existing. She wished to speak, to think, to do. But what was there to do, except float throughout the cosmos?

“Hello,” She decided to whisper to a passing star. “I am S’nari. What is your name?”

The star replied with a single glimmer. Its beauty was true and undeniable, but she could not help but sigh.

Days turned into years, years turned into centuries, and centuries turned into millennia. S’nari spoke to comets, to nebulae, to planets, and still she received no response.

“I know what to do.” She said one day, to nothing in particular. “I shall create something, someone, who will speak with me. We will have the loveliest of conversations, about the future, and the past, and all that exists in between. No longer shall the void be soundless, for our words will echo throughout all eternity.”

With a newfound hope, the Ram-woman began to collect the materials to craft her companion. The finest dust from stars which had begun to wither, the ashes of the most scorching flames, the fragments of broken dreams scattered throughout the realms, and of course, the blood of the divine, which S’nari was more than happy to give.

She began to shape the elements with tender and loving hooves. But with each touch, she grew more and more desperate, and soon she did not care for what her companion was to look like. Her once meticulous craftsmanship turned to an erratic frenzy, fueled by centuries of forlorn solitude.

The Giver trembled as she placed the finishing touches on her companion. Its form was, put frankly, a mess of slime and limbs and organs. It bore no resemblance to any other thing or creature or object she had seen. But she did not mind. She held her tongue, and she watched with a close eye.

To her joy, the creation stirred awake with a loud gurgle. It twisted and contorted grotesquely, clearly not yet used to being conscious.

The worlds seemed to fall silent as it opened its mouths. “Mother?”

S’nari put a hoof to her heart and blinked away tears. “Yes, that’s right.” She stepped closer to her creature, or rather- Her son. “I am Mother.”

“Mother,” It said again, its voice trembling like the cry of a newborn, “Mother, what am I?”

She placed a gentle hoof by its side. “You are my creation, my brood, my lamb. You are…” And she paused, to admire her kin- Her beautiful, darling, lovely kin. “J’zargo.”