The creation of the World   von Sharanna
                      (How the World was really created)
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                                   Prolog: 
                                   --------


All in all it was a dream. A dream dreamed by a lonely soul. By me.
Nothing to do. Nothing to say. Nothing to hear and nothing to see. The only
thing to feel is loneliness. Pure, dark loneliness. And in that loneliness
stands one living thing. Me. standing there, seeing nothing, hearing nothing,
saying nothing and doing nothing.
There I stand. Feeling the loneliness. And thus I am dreaming. Of a world full
of colours. A world with sadness and sorrow. A world with laugher and happiness.
There, in the pitch black nothing, should be a world filled with life. But also
death in a circle with life.
Even now, while I am dreaming, I do fear Darkness for my dream. And then,
standing next to me, is the Sun. "Lovely Sun. Stay with me. Stay by my side", do
I plead, but Sun just smiles and turns to the world I created, forcing Darkness
to fade away. But when she falls asleep crawls Darkness out again.
Not knowing what to do, I feel angry. But Sun always caress my soul and ease my
mind. Always longing for my lovely Sun I watch over the world in her slumber.
Never falling asleep, always near my world an her, in between of both.
So I became Moon. Knowing that she will shine upon me and my world do I shine
for me world which she loves so much.
Feeling that her radiant brightness will warm my face and back, knowing that her
soul will always capture my tainted heart and help me shining for my little
world, do I stand in between, sometimes giving the world darkness, when I and
Sun meet after a century.
The living beings I create do their little steps and look back, straight and
ahead. They give me names, name me their lovely goddess, calling my Sun a god,
which chuckles me with amusement, when I hear their voices. But in the end did
they call my god, telling me their sorrows and thank me for their happiness,
insulting me for their misery and wanting me to give them a helping hand.
But I won't. They aren't only my children. They are also my dream. This world is
my dream.
This world, of which I dreamed, is filled with my love for her, where we will
meet in the living beings and love and hate each other, until few will fulfil my
desire and emerge.

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