Tenebræ [latin] : darkness, obscurity / Lux [latin] : light.

"Mommy, tell me a story!"

A little five year-old girl was running through the house towards the living room where her mother was. Dressed in her pink pajamas, with small cheerful drawings of clouds, on which her ginger hair fell, book in hand, she almost threw herself on her mother's leg to monopolize her attention. Her mother, whose name was Sonia and who was in her early thirties, turned her blue gaze towards her daughter, her blond hair with a single strand of ginger waving with the movement. An affectionate hand ruffled the child's hair as she put down one of her husband's shirts that she was folding, to kneel at her daughter's level.

"The teacher lent me this book today!"

Childish and joyful voice accompanied the gesture by which she handed the small children's book with a shiny cover to her mother with both hands.

The wide smile she wore was angelic and contagious, also curling her mother's lips as she reached for the book.

But that smile, instead of continuing to grow on her fine features, froze, blue eyes carefully detailing the cover, tracing the outline of the castle with her fingertips in a mixture of dread and longing, before drifting to the two characters, a knight in armor and a pretty princess adorned in a thousand finery.

"The Children of Lux and Tenebræ," she could discern in the foreground, written in fine golden letters and soft calligraphic style to lure young children, the recipients of this tale.

A slightly shaky breath later, Sonia looked up at her daughter who was all smiles and almost jumping up and down in anticipation.

"Kira, are you sure you want me to read this story to you? You might not understand it all," she tried carefully, but to no avail.

"Yes, I want to know the story!"

Stubbornness was definitely a character trait that endured in the family for a long time. So Sonia could only let out a sigh, and grab her daughter to carry her to her room. Pink walls, wooden toys scattered on the floor, and a soft little bed made up the room to plunge it into a subtle castle setting to make it all the more wonderful to a child.

Kira went under her comforter with haste, knowing perfectly well this little ritual that took place every night when she asked for a story to be read before going to sleep, while her mother lay down next to her, so that both of them could see the images that would be present in the book.

Once settled, with the dim glow of the bedside lamp illuminating the room, Sonia opened the book, revealing a first page filled only with a dedication: "to my parents, the heroes who saved us". Gulping with apprehension, Sonia turned the page again, ignoring the heavy dedication to reveal pastel drawings, perfect to delight young children and adults alike. Immediately, the story drew both mother and child into this parallel world created with rough strokes, exaggerated expressions and bright colors, conveying the depth of this children's tale.

"Once upon a time, there was an unstoppable war between two parts of a whole.

Since time immemorial, Lux was opposed to Tenebræ in a war they were perpetually engaged in. Every twenty-four hours, one succumbed to the other, but they both returned to the front to determine the winner, which the course of time didn't allow them to define.

For centuries and millennia, they were engaged in a tough battle that always ended in a tie. But as time passed, it eroded their will. It crumbled and withered, so much so that they no longer knew why they were fighting. So they gave themselves a break of seven days and seven nights of fair time to allow them to rest. It was then that they realized that they were tired of keeping up their perpetual guerrilla warfare, so they made an agreement: they would continue to follow each other so that there would be no more conflict, but the conflict wouldn't cease.

And so the Children of Lux and Tenebræ were born. Their fates carefully intertwined, each descendant was destined to face each other under the hopeful gaze of Lux and Tenebræ, so that finally a winner would be chosen in this multi-millennial war.

With each generation, these reincarnations took their course. None of these Children could live long as they were destined to find their counterpart in order to duel to the death. But the war didn't stop for all that. With each battle, the winner alternated, allowing only a perfect balance between the forces at play over the course of the reincarnations.

Then, an anomaly occurred. The same Child of Lux lived on while several Children of Tenebræ succeeded one another. The course of battle was altered as this nearly immortal being became a Child. Three young sprouts of darkness were cut down by the blade of his sword, throwing off the perfect balance. The days grew longer as Lux gained ground, asserting his dominance as this Child perpetuated his will without even knowing it.

But now, the new Child of Tenebræ was born, with a destiny designed to be painful and battle-scarred. He grew strong, hardened, and learned to wield all weapons—though the bow remained his weak point. He was the perfect soldier, hungry for adrenaline and powerful enemies, who could manage to break the imbalance that tipped the scales in Lux's favor.

So when these two Children finally met, Lux and Tenebræ almost held their breath. If Lux's descendant wasn't defeated right here, then it was going to get harder and harder to restore stability.

The world was on the lookout. The blades of grass listened to the sounds that the wind carried, announcing the news of the duel that was taking place at this very moment. The puddles of water brought by the rain a short time before reflected the glare of the clashing blades. The outcome of this battle was the most important thing at that moment.

So when the Child of Lux knocked down the Child of Tenebræ, everyone thought that the fate of the universe and of this war that had been going on for millennia was sealed, forever set in stone.

Yet, the young woman with the golden glow removed her knee from the young man's torso, planted her blade in the broken tiles of the room they were in, right next to her opponent's head, and held out her hand.

The cogs of the universe jammed then, as if something had slipped between the notches to prevent these incessant and ineluctable turns. This outstretched hand went against fate, against Lux's and Tenebræ's plans, and even against the Heavenly Principles.

There had to be a winner, just as there had been before. So why weren't they fighting anymore?

The Children weren't supposed to have free will or even compassion for their counterpart, yet Lux and Tenebræ watched the aftermath with curiosity, though subtly erased by a growing anger.

These Children saw each other again and again, without showing the slightest hint of animosity. They made affectionate gestures to each other, slipped each other sweet words, showed each other a dawning and growing affection in a way that only made the heart of these twin gods, Lux and Tenebræ, grow more frightened.

Nothing was supposed to happen like this. They fought side by side instead of raising their blades to slit each other's throats, and the Child of Tenebræ began to make amends.

Soon they were the perfect couple, solving the problems of the various nations of this world, exploring the various lands, and taking up arms against each other not to kill, but to train. Acclaimed as heroes, they took a break and decided to settle down in a splendid castle-like home. The stability of having a home of their own sparked ideas in their heads after months that had become years of living together. The words "marriage" and "children" came up in their conversations, to solidify their love.

But the heavens didn't approve of this union. They quickly became angry when news of the impending marriage between these two supposedly opposing Children came to their attention. They had to act.

That night the thunder roared and the storm raged.

The twin deities had taken on a physical existence, and without regard for the surrounding land, they smashed the laboriously-built castle to pieces. The Children who were to unite within the month took up arms against this newfound threat, pointing their blades at those who had caused their reincarnations, threatening them with an ardor shining in their eyes, anger at having destroyed their nest radiating from both.

The Princess and the Knight fought side by side to preserve their daily-life filled with love and affection, and their future with a third being soon. The echo of blades meeting, getting to know each other, and breaking, resonated in the pouring rain.

The fight they engaged in was beyond measure. It was no longer a simple battle, but truly a struggle against destiny, against the cycle of reincarnations, against the Heavenly Principles. The Children turned against their creators to obtain the freedom they had so long sought and to free themselves from their presence.

But gods necessarily outranked mere humans or near immortals. Lux fell first, creating a newfound rage from Tenebræ against the Princess. But, like any true Knight, her partner protected his loved one with his person, and then retaliated after the assault to destroy the threat once and for all.

The cycle of reincarnations was broken, accompanying the fate of the twin deities Lux and Tenebræ, and finally ending the war that never found an end. These existences dancing in the hands of their puppeteers without the slightest possibility of escaping their authority, these Children, never again will be born.

The castle was a ruin and fire ravaged the once green lands, but it was a small sacrifice for the final liberation of the Children. The war had finally come to an end, only peace was spreading through the workings of this destiny that had begun to resume its former rhythm.

And now, only the Princess was standing, ready to welcome the new peace with this being germinating within her, proof that this unnatural and disapproved union had known how to bloom and bud," Sonia finished narrating, her sentence ending in an almost inaudible whisper.

The story was poignant, even more so when the reader understood the message behind the seemingly childish tale. A veil of mist obscured the azure blue gaze of the mother, who clutched the book with more than enough strength, her eyes caught by the last sentence. She was nevertheless drawn out of her thoughts by her daughter's tired voice.

"Mom, where did the Knight go?"

The confusion was obvious in her intonation. Sonia closed the book, straightened up and ruffled her daughter's hair while wearing a smile that was meant to be sweet while inwardly she wasn't doing well.

"He just rode off on his white horse."

Pulling the comforter up to Kira's neck, Sonia brought a hand to her cheek to tenderly caress her daughter.

"It's time to sleep now. Good night, honey."

Placing a kiss on the forehead of the little ginger, Sonia turned off the bedside lamp to give way to the pale glow of the small night light in the corner of the room, before leaving and closing the door behind her.

As soon as it was closed, Sonia pressed her back against the door, her head leaning back to rest against the wooden wall. She closed her eyes, dear and tender memories coming back to her from the time when she was still a child, wandering in her mother's office who was elaborating a children's book that was particularly dear to her heart. A half-burned photo taken by one of the Kamera's earliest prototypes lay on a corner of the desk her mother would stand in front of for hours, depicting a man in his thirties with disheveled ginger hair, a burgundy mask stuck on the side of his head, and holding a younger, smaller-looking woman in his arms with a soft, loving gaze.

Opening her eyes to chase away this memory still vivid as on the first day, Sonia let her hands slide with ease and habit on the book, turning again the pages until reaching the very last one, where the name of the author was present.

Nora Kuznetsov.

"Mother..."