There was a time before time.
When the heavens had no names.
When the sky was not yet split by sun and moon.
When the world breathed in silence.
In that silence, two forces stirred.
One of flame and flicker.
The other of shade and tide.
The Fox came first, a creature born from the twilight between dusk and dawn. Its fur shimmered with embers, and its nine tails curled like smoke. It danced through the newborn forests, left fireprints on the clouds, and laughed as the winds took its name and whispered it to the rivers.
Then came the Dragon—vast, coiling, still.
Its body flowed like ink spilled across the stars. Eyes like eclipsed moons. Breath like ocean storms. Where it slithered, the world hushed, watching. It did not need to speak to be understood.
They met atop the spine of the world, where the horizon burned gold and silver at once.
> "You are loud," the Dragon said, voice like stone echoing underwater.
"You are still," the Fox replied, circling. "But your stillness shakes the world."
Their first meeting was not a battle, but a dance.
Fire twirled with shadow.
Laughter echoed against silence.
The Fox leapt. The Dragon coiled.
They moved in circles, yin to yang, wildness to calm.
Balance.
The Sun watched from high above—blazing and proud.
The Moon lingered just behind the clouds—silent and curious.
Together, the four held the world steady.
Sun. Moon. Dragon. Fox.
Deities, some would call them. Spirits, others.
But they were simply what the world needed to remain whole.
Until the sky cracked.
A single, glistening thread—barely seen, barely felt—slipped into the space between stars.
Something beyond them.
Something that had no name, only hunger.
It watched. Waited.
And found a way in.
But not yet. Not now.
For this was still the age of harmony, when the Fox shared riddles under moonlight, and the Dragon sang storms into existence. When the Sun danced across mountains, and the Moon carried dreams to sleeping rivers.
> "One day," the Dragon said, slow and low, "the stars will fall."
"Then we'll catch them," the Fox grinned. "Before they burn the sea."
> "And if one of us is not who we are now?"
> The Fox tilted its head, nine tails flickering with firelight.
"Then I will remind you. That's what balance is, isn't it? You hold me back when I run too far. I pull you forward when you drift too deep."
The Dragon said nothing. But the air grew warmer, as if it smiled.
Together, they watched the moons rise.
Three moons, circling the world.
Three lights that would one day tremble.
But not yet. Not now.
Now, there was still peace.
Now, the Fox still believed.
And the Dragon… still remembered who it was.
---