Deep within the shadow infested forest, past the stream of souls and history, lay a cave of misery. There rested a small being, short and scared, oblivious to the world and the wings of the fair. Beyond the danger and the trees built an ancient tower, filled with the great dreams of the sleeping and the woken. There lived a light being, trusted with happiness. The beings knew nothing of one another. But somewhere under their comprehension seared the feeling of incompletion. The being of despair wanted a change, so it sluggishly trudged itself to the end of the forest, away from its home of emptiness. The being of the light felt the change. Somewhere inside, a veil of determination drove the being to the forest, where it had never trodden foot before. The beings met and they spoke their first words to each other, singing their history and their emotions. Society was destroyed and the rules were broken, but nothing had been better than this. Misery was fought, and the light won. Both became friends, and both met each and every day at the edges of their world. Law and order, dark and light, merged and formed a new way of patching the mud. Nothing was the same again. But nothing had been so happy as such before.