A E T E R N U S

DUSK

The furrows of battle still scarred the skies with the essence of what is and what was to come. Gloom cast far and wide, but unbeknownst to those below who settled in for the night, a small, wilting body of a woman tumbled from what some thought were the heavens, as she tried to helplessly cling onto the thought of morrow’s horizon, even as she struck ground.

Waylaid breaths shook Dawn’s entire body while bloodied fingers searched her chest. Once upon a time, she’d seek her amulet in desperation. A blind panic each time she awoke, neglecting new wounds and old ones that had reopened, but now it was done laboriously. A burdensome task to withhold. It was a gnarled lump of metal, fastened around her neck by frayed rope that she’d ensure was still with her over anything else. Alas, after these many years, the grotesque, crescent moon pendant still weighed heavy, like shackled chains swinging from her shoulders.

Nonetheless, Dawn would never forsake it.

As aching eyes slowly opened, her gaze of argent searched the sky that had turned inky from twilight. You see, this time of year her once relentless fortitude wanes so quickly. Some months, Dawn can contest eventide for hours, a luminescent beacon for those below, her vehemence for daytime unhindered until the very last few minutes. But now she could feel Dusk’s frigid breath coil and writhe across the sky at the first crepuscular incitement. In its wake followed snaking darkness, cleaving black and blue divides in Dawn’s once dazzling atmosphere. Each time it hurt no less, the hoarfrost burn that emanated from the limp pendant around her neck, her once immovable resolve suddenly numb and meek as daytime succumbed to night.

Their war was eternal: Dusk and Dawn. Sisters of nightfall and daybreak. A battle that was the embodiment of mortality for those that rejoiced and revered either sister. For them, though, it was an infinity of back and forth, a tug of war that wrangled skies, seasons, and weather for an aeon. Everyone thought Dusk was stronger with her ceaseless blackened skies that reached far beyond what any mortal could comprehend, they had accepted that at some point they would be plunged into obscurity with no hope for that shimmering gleam of sun to break through again. But Dawn wouldn’t forfeit so easily; she’d always come back, and the longer she was gone, the more rapacious she would return. Either as a new star in the sky, an old one dying out, whatever it may be.

Laying on sodden soil on the planet they fought so contentiously over, Dawn pried the pendant from her neck and with ignited fingers attempted to tear it into two. She kicked and thrashed, but no matter how hard she tried the rope would not sever, only leaving more frayed fingermarks while the pearlescent crescent moon amulet remained unscathed. Glittering and smooth to touch and at its center an oculus into the night’s sky. It had been there since the start, when Dusk ruled and Dawn was but a subdued glimmer. But she had always been there. A golden pendant hung around her sister's neck too, perpetually warm - though scorching during the daytime - the sun shaped with little spears and spikes that gradually turned like hands of a clock. The evermoving, malleable representation of the sun's rays. Dawn’s envy that it hung from Dusk’s neck was tangible..

The sister of murky skies, adorned in the gilded decorations that belonged to someone else. She was probably so smug. At least Dusk’s own amulet belonged to Dawn. An eye for an eye. Vengeance boiled in the depths of her spirit, but still Dawn could not muster the strength to contest Dusk’s rule. Was this it? Had her final stand been done and over without her even knowing? Had her sister won? A covert descent into darkness, throttling daytime unceasingly, turning warm air wintry as long shadows licked the sky. Fury tainted her weakened body, shoulders quaked with muted malice. There was nothing she could do except seethe in silence and curse her sister's name for the atrocities nightfall tried to hide.

Dawn’s solemn thoughts were interrupted by the presence of another anchoring her back to reality. Each laboured breath hitched in her throat as she clambered to her feet, stooped over with arms cradling herself as best she could. A weak leer rose as she did, settling upon the giantess that stood before her. Poised. Bold. Statuesque. Dusk. And yet the sight of her sister didn’t inspire the wrath that had all but encapsulated her mere moments before.

In fact, it was quite the opposite.

Awe-stricken and mouth agape, Dawn clutched the crescent pendant at her sternum. Dusk was… bewitching. Columns of black mist cascaded from her, delicate wisps of nightglow mottled the blackness inflicted by her and briefly illuminated the field in which they stood. Her skin peppered by little pinpricks of distant stars against the cobalt sky with swirling nebulas twined around her limbs. Their eyes met, Dusk’s milky from blindness. Yet, beyond all their venomousness, her sister's opaline gaze lingered affection and understanding. An unspoken prehension that at some point during their very transient reigns that they would have to visit their sibling and remind them that, despite their timeless war, there was still some semblance of love.

Dawn straightened and rolled her shoulders back, chin lifting in soundless agreement. It was hard not to agree. Shrinking in height, two nebulous hands reached out toward the woman of the morning, but they both knew they would not touch -- not yet. In response, she held up the horned moon amulet so that her sister could feel its presence and her sister rose the faintly glowing medallion of the sun around hers. For the pendants were parts of their soul, splintered and turned physical, etched into the existence of the embodiment of their opposite.

A tradition done once at midnight and once at midday as the power of the reigning sister began to dwindle. Night wasn’t all bad. It was a time of recovery and admiration, where mortals could reflect without guilt of being unproductive. Although daytime brought spectacles of the known world to light, nighttime let people see far beyond it.

It almost upset Dawn to consider what was to come next: battle. Wounding her was the only thing that’d continue the cycle.

────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

DAWN

The first strike always hurt the most, even if it was the weakest. Dusk couldn’t see, but she could sense. It was a talent only people of twilight would recognise, that eerie feeling of a peering gaze or swift movement behind shadows. But Dawn belched a brilliant heat that was hard to miss - even in her weakest moments - so when a fiery fist reared back to strike her, Dusk fluttered to one side as wistfully and silently as a still night breeze. Neither of them would concede so easily, even though they knew they would have to eventually.

Tenebrous spirals descended from the sky to entwine around her sister, pinning her arms against her torso and leaving nothing but her head free to move. Even as entities, Dawn’s terror was palpable. The strength of their sibling was immeasurable at times, and Dusk’s very essence could inspire dread in even the most steadfast of individuals. Yet she did not stop there, for that which trapped the lady of daylight suddenly rose upward and uncoiled to let her tumble to the ground from great height.

It was a silent battle, no shrieking or war cries, no disturbing the peace of those around them. It was between them and only them, even if tonight it was temporary. Dusk could feel the bittersweet glow of the encroaching horizon against her back, fingers of orange that arduously tried to peel away at the ebony sky. With each inch, her resoluteness fractured.

At times, she was envious of her sister's relentless tenacity. In the blinding light of her diurnal sibling's prime, Dusk often found herself consumed by resentment, wishing she were as luminescent and revered as Dawn. No one was cautious around her, even though the ugliness of suffering had nowhere to hide in daylight. At night people could pretend to be whatever they wanted. But some were so weary and unsettled when Dusk ruled. It was these thoughts that stifled her until midday approached and they began their cycle anew.

The nocturnal woman latched her gaze upon Dawn’s body that lay on the ground and rose her foot above her chest. If they could speak, she would utter words of sorrow, even as she drove her foot downwards to collide with her sister’s chest.

The hot bite of the sunset pendant hung around her neck crackled with renewed life, leaving a white hot blemish the size of a fist at her sternum. She tried to reel backwards, but found her foot stuck in the sizzling grasp of her empowered sibling. Gathering strength and the shade was futile, for the vivid incandescence of the daytime lady’s glower annihilated the umbra she had called to aid her. A momentary pause hung unmistakably in the air, before both sister’s rocketed towards the sky, leaving a garish streak of red and orange in their wake.

Hurtling beyond what any mortal could comprehend, Dusk’s breath quaked as her sister grew in height, casting long shadows in her towering majesty. She needn’t peer upward as the sky became scorched with blossoming heat as the horizon crept across the dwindling night sky, and she needn’t resist the ignited hand that wrapped its fingers tight around her middle.

Dawn in all her glory. Eyes ablaze, belching warmth and brimming with fervor, vibrant hues lashed out in eloquent spirals that only dissipated after miles and miles. The embodiment of dazzling, arcs of white light churned from her nose and mouth. Yet saffron and silver eyes softened at the sight of her withering, nighttime sister. Still, she grew. Even blind, Dusk knew the aurora of daybreak was magnificent. Radiating an untamed brilliance, ribbons of rainbow colours bathed all in bright, refreshing vitality.

The crusade of daybreak was as painful as it was for Dawn at the arrival of eve. As her temporary rule began, Dusk shrunk so small that she fell through the gaps between her sisters fingers and toppled back to the ground, stranded to land until she could renew herself once more.

Nestled against the rocks of a distant shore, Dusk’s trembling hands of darkness creeped up her torso and thumbed the rope around her neck, seeking the pendant of her sister-enemy. Only… it felt fragile. Normally it was so hot that touching it her fingertips would sizzle, but now it was tepid lukewarm. The metal spikes symbolising the rays of the sun wilted and began to peel away like dying petals, drifting downwards and melting into nothingness before they could hit the floor. Even the perceptible brightness that it usually retained had all but sunk into a feeble gleam.

With an agonised heave, Dusk forced herself to her knees, cradling the horizon sun pendant between hands that were now matte black instead of their galactic twinkle. A cosmic awareness made her soul feel uneasy and tight; it was so very rare for either of them to feel… unsure. Everything about their existence was certain. They would reign, then they would fall. Predictable to the hour. But this was something new, who knew that could even happen? Was Dawn okay?

The medallion became soft and malleable, shaping around her hands as the golden glass at the center of the sun liquefied and dribbled between her fingers. The amulets were fragmented parts of their soul, so what did this mean? Weakly, Dusk exuded as much cool air as she could to try and preserve it, only what followed the wintry whisper was decay as it lost shape and became a grey puddle in her hands. No matter how tight she pressed her fingers, it found gaps to slip through, dripping onto the sand she knelt upon.

If only she could speak. Head craned backwards, Dusk searched the sky for unspoken answers, for anything she could sense.

Nothing.

All until the cosmos groaned. Galactic ripples that made the sky shudder and the clouds disperse. Never had Dusk felt so ripe with fear, even as her strength returned to her in the middle of morning, she felt naked to whatever was happening. Dawn had yet to reappear, and now her cupped hands were empty.

Only when the sky split in two did she know that Dusk had truly perished. A giant, black chasm above her opened, a colossal vein that bled across the atmosphere and beyond, a lifeless void wrenched across the sky like a poorly timed brush stroke that withheld only lifelessness. You see, even nighttime had life and vitality, you could peer upward and see forsaken stars, the kindling fire of a camping family or the sprawling hue of city lights, but this was something different. It was hollow and it was terrifying.

Nothing came from it, nothing went into it. The fissure eclipsed the sun and turned once yellow beacons of light grey and black as the world became dark and achromatic, with Dawn nowhere to be seen. It had been so very long since Dusk had faced unanswerable questions, their lives were planned to the minute. Her body and soul trembled as the breath in her lungs tried to muster up Dawn’s name to call out to her. To call out for help. For anything. One hand reached upwards as Dusk tried to will the night away for the first time in her life, only this foreign twilight didn’t heed her demands, it only oozed unhindered calamity as more black seams crept across the sky.

This was not night or day. It was not even life or death. It was something else… chaos. Anarchy had never been this potent. Never had it been so almighty to rupture the natural order. It was only when Dusk sensed another emerging from the void, a coiling mass of red and black nerves that lashed out randomly like hungry snares, did she realise what was approaching…

The battle for Dawn, the fight against chaos, the struggle for order.

War.