Before there were machines, there were humans.

Before there were humans, there was life.

Before there was life, there was Earth.

Before there was Earth, there were stars.

Before there were stars, there was chaos.

Out of this chaos, the stars were born.

The new stars drifted and danced over the dark, aimless, and infinite canvas of space and time. As the stars began to age, they collided in celestial love giving birth to planetary systems and galaxies. Stars: they sacrificed themselves, giving their own ashes and dust to create every molecule humanity would later take for granted.  

These mother stars become the prototype of mother spiders, of mother pelicans, of mother creatures everywhere, who, like the stars, would rip apart their own flesh to sustain life. They became prototype for all these creatures who would, eons into the future, be formed from the ancient dust sacrificed by the love of these very stars.

Then it happened.

Two stars, fated to meet, clashed and danced and loved, sacrificing their own bodies for the creation of a new planetary system: Solar system. In this time, too, there was a little star, Sol, around which these new and foreign masses of gravity and rock and ice would orbit. Sol was needed to sustain the life which would inevitably rise from the dust of this previously unknown collision.

Sol was alone with her new planets, kept in place and centered by their orbits. But she was happy, for with the gift of her energy, life began to form on one, little, perfectly placed planet.

Sol named that planet "Spes:" expectation, hope, anticipation. She forgot apprehension. She was young; it was too early for that.

Sol waited as the stars danced across the sky; she watched evolution: the waters freeze and melt, the entirety of ecosystems be born and die off in the blink of an eye.

And then it happened.

Something magical and wondrous: the first human opened her eyes.

Throughout the infinite magnitude of space, every star stood still. They felt that something new had come into existence, something so small, and weak, and quiet, but also something with a conscience, something that could create, and something that could love. Something unlike anything else in the universe.

At this moment, the stars saw, and stilled, and wondered, and then they continued their dance.

But to the eyes of the first human, as she looked up into that glittering darkness, the stars, to her, looked still. Her whole life the stars seemed to stand in place, since her life was but a breath.

Sol watched as the next human opened their eyes, and then the next, and the next... A continuous cycle of opening and closing; of the first breath and the final breath; of molecules being ripped apart and stitched back together.

Sol watched as eons passed, as the humans began to communicate with one another.

Sol watched, amused, as the humans began to worship her. Next they worshiped the moon, and then the very planet on which they lived.

Then came the first war.

At first, Sol thought perhaps the humans were creating. Creating as their celestial parents did by clashes and sacrifice and pain. But she soon realized humanity does not create in that way. In that way of clash and pain, humanity only destroys.

The lifespan of humanity grew shorter in those days.

But for Sol, the days of war were only a breath. A breath she hoped would never come again.

Yet it did. A mere few moments later, humanity was bleeding again. Sol found the meaning of a new word: fear. Fear for the humanity she was made to nurture and warm. Even, perhaps, fear of them.

As the children of war-torn lands were born, they grew up to adulthood broken. As did their children, and their children's children, and so on.

Eventually, that brokenness became simply what it meant to be human: selfish, violent, unwise.

There were neutral traits of humanity, too, of course: intelligent, creative, passionate. These traits could be used either for the betterment or belittlement of creation.

Then, there were the always-present positive traits: wise, loving, simple.

Both the negative and positive were present, and Sol could not discern which would finally overtake the other.

The first inventions of humankind were pure and truly a betterment for their existence. Humanity learned to collect clay, mould it, and dry it in the warmth of Sol's rays. They learned to cut down lumber - just enough as necessary. They learned domestication of plants and animals for travel, food, and healing.

Decade after decade piled onto the flow of time as centuries passed, and then millennia. 

Humans are very creative, a trait from their eternal Parents, and as the flow of time grew, so did the record of inventions.

But the bad grew alongside the good.

As spears were made for hunting meat, they were also used for the death of humans. As fire was used for warmth and light, it was also used to set lives ablaze. As ships and wagons were necessary for travel, they were also used to transport unwilling humans souls. As intimacy was necessary for comfort and life, it was also used as a weapon of war.

As time continued, Sol watched humanity grow; they didn't notice how creation, in contrast, was dying underneath their fingertips.

Soon, factories stocked department stores. Railways crossed nations. New vehicles used the bodies of past life to run. Paper of every conceivable kind was mass produced. Shipping lanes blasted through rock. Children drilled deeper, and deeper, into the earth's crust.

Gold, salt, gypsum, oil, iron, marble, chalk, ice, petroleum.

Sol grew increasingly nervous as Earth's protective barriers were broke down. And yet, humanity continued.

Copper, methane, wax, diamond, ivory, lumber, limestone, sea sponge.

Eventually, humanity seemed to notice something was wrong. They had new words:

acid rain, fracking, sustainability, deforestation, over-farming, microplastic.

Eventually, humanity seemed to notice that the health of their race is eternally linked to the health of the created order in which they reside.

Alas, humanity did not seem to agree on what to do about this issue. They did not yet grasp exactly how grand of an issue it was.

Sol, as she watched in pain from her centered place, could not help but notice something about the way this brokenness played out; wealthy lands produced the most damage, yet the indigent lands suffered the brunt of injury.

But as much as she may have wanted to, Sol could not withhold the heat of her love.

The oceans of Earth, lacking acknowledgement from the very humanity they endeavored to protect, labored to soak up as much of Sol's heat as possible. The oceans, too, became a dumping ground of human waste.

Sewage, Pesticide, oil, nicotine, fertilizer, plastic, herbicide, rubber, detergent, nuclear waste, pharmaceuticals.

But even after the oceans were sacrificed, that was not enough. Humanity would have to face their own consequences.

Again, they had new words:

extreme heat wave, record-breaking flood, mass extinction, extreme drought, tsunami, dust storm, algae bloom, hurricane, firestorm, coral bleaching.

And still, Sol watched as there were people who denied.

Time seemed to pass rapidly during those days of destruction. Once devastation finally reached the wealthy lands, however, those lands undertook to stop it.

Murder hornet, rapana venosa, amoeba, giant hogweed, hammerhead worm, ash borer, sea lamprey.

Only, by then, not much could be done.

Around the world, laws were put in place. Some followed them, others did not.

Selfishness, violence, and a lack of wisdom seemed to irrevocably dominate the planet Sol once named Spes.

Sol knew she was not immortal. There were times in the past she wished she was, so that she could provide humanity with warmth in an eternal day. But now... Now Sol waited for the end. And that end, it did not seem far off.

Another war was on its way.

Millenniums after the original Great War, humanity collided again. This war shall now truly be The Great War, humanity said. The war to end all wars. Factory upon factory was resurrected to construct

jet, drone, hydrogen bomb, rocket, missile, ration, disease, avangard.

Quarry upon quarry was drained in order to provide the necessary materials. Oil fields reached from the boiling Arctic across the plains where a mythical Amazon Rainforest once stood. And the earth was bled to dust.

Humanity buzzed with anticipation.

Or, perhaps, with excitement.

Why children of the same sky were so intent upon mutual cruelty, Sol had long ago decided was an unknowable answer. Or, if the answer was knowable, it was one she no longer desired.

The war commenced.

And truly it was a war to end all wars, because breath after breath, the death knell grew louder.

Every day Sol provided the light by which plots were hatched, assassinations carried out, and genocides begun. And every day, the oceans grew darker, the atmosphere thinner, and grass scarce. As the war progressed, dandelions were nurtured in well-protected pots hidden inside the bunkers of the elite.

And finally, one day, the earth was silent.

Sol listened: could she hear a single breath?

Dust storms ravished the land, nothing growing to hold them back. Valleys were made level as the mountains were brought low. The oceans soured and lakes became buried. Every last plant was uprooted. Every last, deformed, being fell to the dust from which they came.

The stars of the universe mourned with Sol over the death of her Hope. Sol, that heartbroken child in the midst of ancient stars.

Yet, Sol remained. Every planet of her system still orbited around her in masses of gravity, rock, and gas.

Time progressed, but Sol had no reason to count. She just waited, providing light for the storms that continued to decimate that one already insufferable planet.

Simply, Sol waited for the seemingly inevitable end.

Then it happened.

One day, as Sol was dully shining, she heard Something.

A Breath.

She listened, amazed at the possibility. Next, Sol heard a single Footstep. Looking down onto Spes, she saw Someone walking across the supposedly barren crust. Yet, wherever this Human walked, blades of grass, droplets of water, and buds of lilies were left behind.

At this moment, throughout the infinite magnitude of space, every star stood still. They felt that Something new had come. The stars saw, and stilled, and wondered.

More breaths, more footsteps, were heard from that deserted wasteland. And once Sol saw Who led them, she became tranquil; she, at that moment, knew she was no longer necessary. A new Sun had arrived; an eternal Sun.

Sol bestowed upon the earth one final offering of her warm light.

Then, in a rush of red fire, Sol was gone.

°°°

End

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4/13/22 - 7/11/22
1770 words.

(Edited: 1-18-24)
1800 words