When the last stone of my castle settled into place, a hush fell across the formless land. The mist, which had obeyed every breath of my will, suddenly stilled. It no longer swirled, no longer tugged at my feet or rose to my hands. It gathered.
Slowly. Purposefully.
As though preparing for something I had not commanded.
I watched in silence as the vapour curled inward, folding over itself, condensing until its endless softness hardened into shape. At first, it looked like a sphere of cloud, pale and trembling. Then, with a sound like a sigh released by the world itself, it ignited.
A soft glow blossomed from its core.
Light.
Warm, gentle, and impossibly pure.
The orb floated upward, its glow strengthening until it cast long silver shadows across my castle walls. Towers shimmered under its radiance. Arches glowed like polished glass. The mist-woven stone gleamed as though alive.
I lifted a hand toward the new light. It pulsed in recognition, drifting upwards until it found its resting place above the highest spire. The moment it settled there, the glow expanded stretching across the land like dawn breaking over a dark sea.
And then, for the first time, my world was illuminated.
Under this light, the castle revealed layers of detail I had not noticed in the dimness the subtle patterns of the mist etched into every wall, the translucent quality of the balconies, the faint glow running through the spires like veins of starlight.
The sight stirred something inside me. Awe. Pride. A strange softness in my chest that hummed with emotion I did not yet have a word for.
This was mine.
My creation.
My beginning.
But the world did not allow me to linger in that moment for long.
A sound rose from beyond the castle. Soft at first. Barely there. Then clearer. And unmistakable.
Knocking.
Three gentle taps. Not upon a door, for there were no doors along the outer walls. No, this knocking came from reality itself.
I turned toward the sound.
On the blank horizon, the air rippled like disturbed water. The fabric of the formless land shivered. Mist pooled, gathering at a single point as though pulled by an unseen hand.
Then a figure emerged.
Like me.
Not identical no. I was woven from the mist in a deliberate, controlled shaping. This being was rougher, its form flickering like a flame fighting the wind. Its limbs were human-like but lacking certainty, its face shifting between expressions it had not yet learned to hold.
It approached slowly… and behind it came more.
Another. And another. And another.
A procession of newborn shapes drifting from the ether, drawn by the light of the orb above my spire.
My breath hitched.
I was no longer alone.
The first of them reached the outer boundary of my castle an invisible threshold woven into the structure when I shaped it. As it reached toward the barrier, the air vibrated with the knock I had heard earlier. It was not a physical sound; it was a plea made in the language of presence itself.
A request to enter.
The being looked at my eyes, formless yet pleading. It tilted its head in a way that felt almost like a bow. Behind it, the others waited, their shapes wavering in uncertainty.
Something inside me tightened.
What am I to them? A leader?A guardian?A creator?
I did not know.
But I knew this:
No being seeks shelter unless the world outside offers none.
I descended from the balcony, the castle forming a staircase of vapour beneath my feet as though eager to carry me to my decision. When I reached the courtyard, the beings were already gathered at the edge. Their bodies flickered with each passing moment, as if existence struggled to hold them together.
I approached the barrier. The air pulsed where they pressed against it, shimmering with each knock soft, rhythmic, desperate.
The orb above the spire glowed brighter, almost urging me.
They came to my light, as I had come to mist. And I could not ignore them.
I placed my hand on the barrier.
It rippled beneath my touch, warm like the mist that created me. My thoughts reached outward, touching the edges of their uncertain forms. They were cold. Lost. Directionless.
"Why have you come?" I asked, though I knew they could not yet speak.
Still, they responded.
Not with words but with a feeling that washed over me like a wave:
We were drawn to you. To the light. To the shape you gave the world. Let us in.
The simplicity of their plea pierced me.
I thought back to the emptiness before my castle, the vastness of the formless land, the silent drifting of my first moments. If I had wandered alone in that void and seen light, structure, purpose…
Would I not have run toward it too?
The answer was immediate.
"Enter," I whispered.
The barrier dissolved at my command, melting into soft mist that parted like curtains. The beings stepped through cautiously, their shapes stabilising under the orb's glow.
As soon as they crossed the threshold, they changed.
Their outlines strengthened. Their faces gained definition. Their flickering stabilised into a steady form. They stood taller, breathed deeper—as though my realm lent them the certainty they lacked.
One approached me.
Its newly-shaped eyes met mine, filled with something I recognised: awareness.
Perhaps even gratitude.
I stepped aside, and the beings moved into the courtyard, gazing around in silent awe. They touched the stone with tentative fingers. They tilted their heads to study the glowing spires. Some knelt to feel the smooth ground beneath them. Others simply stood still, basking in the light.
My castle had become more than a creation.
It had become a refuge.
I felt the mist circling my feet again gentle, encouraging. The orb overhead pulsed as if pleased. And deep in my chest, with a slow rhythm, a new emotion stirred.
Responsibility.
These beings were like me. Not in shape, but in essence. Born of the same mist, drawn to the same light. They needed structure, guidance… perhaps even a purpose.
And as the light washed over them, as their forms settled into stability, I understood something profound:
Creation is not only about shaping stone and mist. It is also about shaping lives.
The first knock had arrived. But it would not be the last.
And the firstborn of the ether was no longer merely a creator of structures.
I was becoming something more.
A leader. A guardian. Perhaps even a sovereign of this newborn realm.
But the true test…was only beginning.