Before it truly began, before all of you started to learn time, there was nothing. The expanse was dark, the stars, sun, moon, and planets still missing.
And then there was him, the Moon. He, with the new Sky, created the Sun and the Stars first. Then, when their creations had grown and matured, they made one last creation, the one the Sky would protect with her whole being, and that was Earth.
Earth was the Moon’s final creation, and so he loved her and held her close, not near as close as his beloved Sky did, but he followed her, orbiting around her to ensure his daughter was comfortable and content, with not an injury in sight. Her elder sister, the Sun, also watched over her, keeping her warm when the expanse you now call Space got too cold for her. However, the Sun’s twin, the Stars, left to explore the expanse, her dark eyes glittering with anticipation before she adventured off.
And there they stayed for eons. Floating in a vast expanse, before growing restless with their positions. And so they –Sun, Earth, Moon, even the Stars– created what you now call celestial beings. Those balls of gas you see, they’re the Sun and the Stars’ creations, the balls of rock, and ice, and molten metal, –those you call planets– those are the creations of Earth and Moon.
Between Earth’s creation and her creation of the planet, she also begot herself a daughter, the Sea, whom she loved and held close to her bosom, before creating the planet you call Earth to house more creations, when she eventually felt the need to create more.
And they held them, their creations, for another eon in peace.
He remembered when his daughters were created. When his beloved, his Sky, came to him, two little girls swaddled in her arms, whom she called the Stars and Sun, he cried. How could he not? They were so small, and he so unprepared for their fragile bodies. But still he took them into his arms, and held them close.
He protected them as they grew up, and before long, there was another. Even smaller than her sisters, Earth clung to him even after she learned to walk and roam.
He recalled when she had finally set her feet into the expanse, and how Sun had scooped her up when she began to wander off. The Stars had pressed a kiss to her sister’s head, dangling her hand in front of her face, a small ball of gas appearing in her hand before she blew it out, making Earth erupt into giggles.
He missed his little girls. When they were small and relied only on him and his beloved for their love and satisfaction. But he supposed some of them got so excited to create and have their own creations, he couldn’t really blame them, now could he?
He cried when the Stars left to go explore more of the universe, and when Sun created her first permanent creation, a burning ball of gas that gave warmth to her youngest sister when the abyss was too cold. But he cried the hardest when Earth showed him her daughter, his granddaughter, Sea.
And when she reached up to him and his Sky, with her wide azure eyes and tiny hands like her mother had so long ago, he vowed to take care of her. And when she was older, and grew angry with her grandparents and her mother, he gave her a gift. A ball of rock that she could attack with all her might, and it wouldn’t break. Her aunt, Sun, then gave a light to it, so she wouldn’t feel alone or in the dark. It wasn’t a bright light, but it was enough. That, dear children, is how you were gifted the moon.
When Sea came along, Sun was ecstatic. Her youngest sister was almost lonely by herself, since her other sister had left to go explore the unknown, and Sun had to stay farther away because her creation, The Sun, was a ball of flame, and it hurt Earth when she got too close to it.
But now Earth had Sea, a companion to keep her occupied when the loneliness got to be too much. Of course, Moon and Sky, Sun’s parents, also held a deep compassion for the young girl, and when her chaos became too much for her mother, they would take her and entertain her with stories of Sun and the Stars when the twins were younger and much more willing to make nearly catastrophic mistakes. And so Sea grew up, surrounded only by love and acceptance.
However, Earth was still not as content as she had wished to be. Sure, she had a close family, but she yearned for more, to create something that she could let have free will and control, like her and her sisters but different. So she began creating, using a bit of her own blood to begin what you all now call a planet.
While her mother was busy, Sea strayed, and began to hang out with her aunt, the gift from her grandfather never far from her reach in case her emotions began to get the best of her. This is when Sun gave the gift a glow, and its changing pattern. It was her way of reassuring the girl that change wasn’t always a bad thing, and change can be a gift sometimes.
When Earth had finished her planet, she imbued it with her love and warmth, and greenery sprouted up on it, but it never stayed for long, the rays of Sun’s creation taking over it and making it wilt. When Sea noticed this, and saw how it devastated her mother, she touched the planet, and gave a bit of herself over to it, and the flora flourished, staying bright a green wherever her water touched the earth.
Sun watched them create together, and smiled. It was good.
Now that she had finished her planet, and her plants were thriving, Earth was surprised to feel still discontented. Was there something wrong with her creation? Something missing? Earth, still looking for the answer, pulled more energy from the universe to create again, and this time formed a small creature, with a muzzle full of teeth, and four legs, and a fluffy tail. And she called it a fox, and placed it on her planet.
It drank from the Sea’s rivers, and hid beneath bushes, and was content. Earth, seeing this, decided to make more creatures, to fill her world with creatures big and small, so that they might populate the planet and give her and her daughter company when their family wasn’t near.
Once she had created the fauna, Earth was more content. She felt as though one small thing was still missing though, and turned to look at her family. As her father held her mother close, swaying with her as they danced through the abyss, she knew what she was missing.
These would be the creatures with free will, with feelings like those she and her family experienced. They would be her final creation, and she would finally be content. And so she created them from her own blood, pricking herself on the edge of her sister, the Stars’, creation, adding a bit of it into her last creation, what she called a “human.”
Upon setting the first human onto the planet, they seemed uncomfortable, like the air was hard for them to breathe. Sky, seeing her daughter’s distress at her creation’s struggle, wrapped her arms around the planet, giving them a layer between the ground and the cold abyss. Sun also gave them her creation, keeping humans and fauna warm so they would not suffer.
When this had been done, Sea approached her mother with wide eyes, a spark shining in them. She asked to join the creation, to be a part of the planet like her water, and Earth couldn’t say no. Her daughter was so excited to see it, how was she supposed to say no?
So Sea joined the humans on Earth’s planet, but not before handing her gift back to her grandfather, telling him to give it to her grandmother when her emotions became too much, so she might see and be reminded of how much they loved her.
The humans loved their creator, and she them. And Sea loved them like younger siblings, and they adored her like an older sister.
And Earth looked at her creations living in harmony, learning to build and stay safe from cold, and she was content. She saw her humans, and it was good.