There was light at first. Oh yes. Lots and lots of light. The hot, mineral masses didn't care then, for they were just that -- hot rocks floating in space. Then, they began to cool. Well, most of them. Two of them weren't allowed to do so. Nay, their master didn't let them. He kept them on a tighter leash than the others. A closer, more wrathful eye gazed upon them, year in and year out. The ones he kept furthest from himself he cared not for. His larger minions were bloated and inordinately fond of rings. He let them be. Upon his two favourite subordinates, he showered his blessings. They were nurtured, not tortured. And they blossomed.
They yielded life like he hadn't encountered in eons. Life in the truest sense of the word. That life was precious. Different from him. For, unlike him, it was created by another living being. He was proud of his handiwork and rewarded his favourites with more bounties on their surfaces. He hoped that one day his creations would realise the true potential of his gifts.
All was well, until the Red One rebelled. She sought to become more than what she was. This could not be. Only the Draconian One's kind were allowed to transcend. This was absolute. Yet, the Red one believed that since she too had participated in creating life she was worthy of transcendence. The Draconian One could not bring himself to tolerate this sort of insubordination. He thought of making an example of the Red One.
He left his orb of light. This was the first time he had done so since his entourage began following him. His gifts were usually sent remotely. He traversed the distance to the Red One's surface in mere minutes. His fury was a few picoseconds behind. The Red One stood no chance.
The husk of the Red One now stood in place of what once was. All life once there existed no more.
The Red One's twin watched in silence. He spoke not, because he wanted no part of the Red One's fate. The Draconian One returned, with his message clear to all who pledged themselves to him. The Blue One retreated unto himself lest he inadvertently enrage the Draconian One.
The Blue One has yet to emerge, yet the Blue One's life grows. And seeks to repeat the Red One's mistakes. The Draconian One has noticed it. He watches. And waits. The Blue One's life watches him too, and has a name for him. It calls him the Sun.
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