Like hidden shadows in the blackness of the
galaxy, her eyes looked over the carbon-desert,
enlighted by the orange-red glow of the turbulent pools of magma,
flowing widly through the liquid centre. But neither the deafening
sounds of colliding plateaus of stone, nor the penetrable
and sickening heat from the yellowish stream of the
molten materials, boiling up from the deepest bottoms of the
unstable ground she floated above, could touch nor trigger
her fragile senses. Her hands hung in the air and bolts of electricity
mazed her aura in mysterious and frightening white.
But there was no one there to fear her, and no one
there to love. It would take another million of the lifetimes
she had lead alone in the intensely silent darkness of the emptiness
of time before. The emptiness she knew by every inch,
while she travelled through the stargate, onwards to the palace
of her magic spawn.
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And when it finally resurrected from the
ashes of its experimental and primitive predecessors, it feared
their creator hidden in the elements of the surroundings.
But when time went on and her children began to evolve
and mature their minds they seemed to forget or ignore
their collective roots, which lay a million lightyears and dimensions
from their homes. And most of them completely cleared their
minds of powers they had unknowingly inherited from the
double helix of the gods. And it was only centuries later that some
of them rediscovered their alienated origin, and began to breed
the magic they all carried hidden deeply in the id of the mind,
still unharmed. And these chosen few would give birth to a powerful
line of the dominion, destined to change the world once and
for all into what her creator had meant it to be,
when she began this task in her youthful years.

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