Once upon a time, there were a god named Light and a goddess named Night. In that ancient time, the realms of these two deities were of the same size. But Light despised Night. Light's minions continually invaded Night's domain, but Night's own servants simply flitted to a new hiding place that could not be reached. Light, always wishing to expand his empire, formulated a plan. The attacks into Night's realm would stop for a time. When Night saw this, she believed that Light had finally chosen the wise course of action and become content with his lot. But, in truth, Light was raising an army larger than any seen before in the world. At the appointed time, the Army of Light breached Night's defences and had captured so much of the world that Night might never be able to recover. She and her surviving children continued as they had always done and hid in yet more places that Light could not reach. But that would only work for a short time as Light continued to attack... Night would have to make herself a sacrifice to protect the last of her realm from Light's hunger for power.
The Daughters of Night
Weather Control: Standard
There was no hope for Night. Nothing remained of her influence except for this fragile dark sphere in which she resided and the weakest of her kin. The followers of Night continued to hide, not out of pride anymore, but out of necessity. Light's influence beamed out in all directions during the day and was reflected back on the world as moonlight and starlight in the nighttime. Most were trapped in the crevices and cracks that Light's minions were too pompous to inhabit. She let loose a single tear which fell down, out of her prison, and nearly hit the ground before the only gust of wind ever to be felt on the mountain lifted it up and carried it directly into Light's claws. This was a dangerous tear. It was good that it had not hit the earth, or anything else. No matter. Light forced the tear to evaporate from between his fingers and did not worry about it ever again. But there were a few kin of Night who had enough power to make use of Light's misjudgement. The dark storm clouds collected the parts of Night's last tear and slowly reassembled it over thousands of centuries, despite the protests of Light's slave drivers, Lightning. One day, the tear was ready to be released at last as a drop of rain...
Weaving of Darkness
Matter Animation: Ultimate
Within Night's prison, the last place where she had power, Night began to weave. A thread of darkness, thinner than a strand of silk, appeared and lay itself onto Night's pale body. Another thread of darkness, just as thin as the last, appeared and also fell onto Night. The thousands of centuries that it took to recreate Night's tear by the clouds were spent by Night to slowly, with the concentration that only a goddess could maintain, grow a jet black gown about her. Once, she remembered, as she put the final thread into place, she was permitted to do more than just weave. She could create things more grand than even the mountain that held her. No longer.
The Tear of Night
As the last thread was applied, her tear finally fell to earth. It rushed down past an indifferent wind that did not know how much of a threat to its master this apparent raindrop could be. If it had hit the ground, Light's reign would have ended in a heartbeat. Instead, it landed on the chest of a boy. The clouds were shocked. The earth was all around, and yet that tear had instead hit a mortal. Yes, it seemed that the final source of salvation for Night was taken away by a human child. He knew the old legends of Light's heroic conquest over Night. When the drop of rain hit him, he came to a strange conclusion among his people: Light had been cruel to Night. He had unlimited power and yet he craved for still more. Night was nothing more than Light's unfortunate victim. The boy eventually grew to become a man. All that time, he trained himself to become a warrior and to one day storm the Dark Mountain, guarded by Light's warrior priests and bring freedom to the goddess. He had fallen in love with Night, love brought on by the last tear dropped by her in the final waning of her hope.
The Servant of Night
One night, he did just as he had dreamed. He had trained long and well and he used it to leap across the foothills of the Dark Mountain, dodging every sword and arrow that he met, and killing all who stood in his way. It was soon that he was at the threshold to Night's cell. Night's silhouette, barely visible through the partially opaque sphere, only a few paces away, made him pause. The pause allowed a spearman to catch up to him and raise his weapon. The spear was thrust through his chest and he collapsed. So close to his Goddess, to she who allowed him to love her. So close to releasing her. Now, nothing. Death was slowly coming over him. The darkness, for the first time in his memory, did not comfort him. He was terrified of it. Light truly was as great as Darkness. He used the last of his strength to call upon the only blessing that Light could possibly give him: one glimpse of the face of Night. His head jerked up...
The Tear of Man
A tear, welling from his eye, was flung forth. The tear, so minuscule, collided with the walls of Night's prison, thin enough for a passing breeze to shatter them, and did just that. He saw the faint fog about Night disappear in a moment, and heard a light splatter as his tear continued on and fell on her breast. It was the last tear, that signified the loss of hope. The same tear that she had shed, thousands of centuries ago. Night was overcome by her own warrior's power. The deaths of so many mortals who fought for her could have been ignored by Night, but this one had something that the others did not have: the heart of Night herself. The Guardians of Light shied from her as she glided to the focus of her love. The spear had long ago been pulled from him, leaving only the jagged wound. Night's hand was brought to the wound, and a slow shadow followed it. Where the shadow passed, blood and bone vanished to be replaced with healthy flesh. Though light may still have dominion over the world, it is only in darkness, where nothing can be seen, that true miracles can occur. The two lovers held hands as they walked down from the mountain, to eventually bring back the empire of Beautiful Night.