Selytarel grinned madly as the bomb crashed into the star to spread its dark cloud amidst ruins. Reveling in the billowing plume, the creature rode the lazy air currents. Its mind returned to ages past, to the height of its power.
The river ran red, spewing forth gnarled toads and dying fish. Flies flocked to feast, and brought with them disease. Life was disrupted, and still did the ruler not tend to his people. They had called upon Selytarel, then, to overcome the tyrant. It had summoned up the true Darkness, separated from the pure Light at the very beginning, and sent it forth to overawe the cruel master. And yet, as the dark cloud covered the sky, the little ones cowered in fear. Selytarel watched in awe as they panicked and hid- surely these ones, favored creations of The Named One, were not so weak? Then, the gathered hosts chained Selytarel, letting the gathering thunderhead dissipate.
Still struck dumb, Selytarel pondered long the mystery of the little ones' weakness. Surely, as was proclaimed, the righteous would one day see the true Light and bask in its glory? It tore the fabric of the heavens to let the glorious Light break through when one of the little ones descended a great mountain. The people fell to their knees, tearing at their hair and ripping the cloth of their garments.
How could this be? They were shown the true Light, and they were powerless before it. Selytarel knew they must not be the righteous ones, and defamed the word of the Great Name. This time when they chained it, they bound it in bonds as fast as they had the former Captain, and then they cast Selytarel from its place.
Still, as it alone knew the truth, Selytarel schemed to find the holy ones worthy of the greatest of all creations. The aeons passed, and Selytarel lay bound, working at the confines of its prison. In the darkness, the little ones sometimes drew near. Selytarel shimmered faintly, tearing small holes in the world. But the little ones understood it not, following its shimmer blindly and with great fear in their eyes. Selytarel yearned to shine forth with true brilliance, but found the cage held it too fast. As time passed, the faint glow paled in comparison with the torches they brought with them. Selytarel strained, but could manage no more than its glimmer. Thus did it watch the ages tick steadily onwards.
Aroused rudely from its hibernation, it saw that a small chink had been cut in its prison, just wide enough for it to see the final flight of its captors. Their adversaries gave pursuit, but all too soon they, too, were lost to the world. Selytarel howled in anguish, watching as the shell about it turned brittle and crumbled away.
The tear in the world had sealed itself up. Try though it did, Selytarel could not pursue its fleeing jailers. Flexing slowly, it slunk quietly among the ruins, a mere shadow of its former self. It strained, feeling the pattern of the world and knowing it to be crumbling. Yet still were there little ones here that might learn the wonderment of Light. Selytarel, badly weakened, sought out an unstained, supple mind to give it strength.
It knew that the purest of the Light could not be seen with the radiance of the farcical replicas hanging about the heavens. They would have to be blotted out, replaced by the true glory of the first Light and Darkness. The little ones would finally be tested, then, and the pure survive. Selytarel knew, too, that ripping the heavens asunder might well reopen the path to the land beyond where it could proclaim its ultimate success.
Turning lazily on its wings, the creature grinned as the gathering Darkness rushed by. It was time to strike down its prey, and fate had landed it just the tools it needed.