How the Stars Came to Be

A long time ago, the sky was dark. Void of the light we know today. The sun rose and set, sailing its path brightly and giving men courage, however when it left the sky, all that remained was the moon. Pale and ghostly, it's white and blue light gave no warmth, no comfort. Only a dread from the shadows that hid across the land where moon light could not reach, and on nights when even the moon would not show its face, evil would creep and even the bravest kings would not leave the safety of their castles to see battle on moonless sky of black velvet haunted dreams and waking hours, priests would pray until they collapsed that the evil waiting in the darkness would be destroyed, but always in day, a brave warrior appeared, clad in dark, indigo armor rode in like the night on his equally dark steed, a bird with enormous wings and long legs with eyes as blue and bright as sapphires. He wielded something no one had ever seen before, a bright glowing orb kept at the hilt of his sword. He swept through on the darkest night of the lunar calendar, his sword wreathed in white flames and his face hidden behind unruly hair. The sound of his animals sharp claws digging into the earth and loud feathers beating the air echoed almost as loudly as the howls and screams of demons and devils, destroyed by the might of the mysterious the morning, when the sun rose upon the grisly remains, those who once feared the night knew that a champion had been sent to them, the steaming, dissolving corpses could be shown for only a few minutes after sun rise before the light decimated what was left of the month, on the darkest night when the moon would hide away, the warrior would return and the demons would be slain within the morning, however soon more warriors began to arise when the moon waned, he too held a magical stone, implanted in the center of his staff. His armor was green and atop a great furred beast he would stride, heavy furred steps could be heard with the snarling and him came the red warrior, riding on the nights of the half moon, she would wield a grand hammer, her stone set just where her hand gripped and ride upon a serpent with a long back and short legs. Its sharp scales cut into the enemy and its feet scrabbled like tiny knives digging into the the night of the waxing moon, a warrior wearing yellow would fly from the darkness on a winged beast with two heads and a third on its tail, she would tear through the monsters with a lance, the stone of which was set in the middle, her beast cried with terrible blood lust as they tore with only the beat of wings to announce their , on the night of the full moon, a final warrior arose. His armor shown like light through a prism and he rode atop a horned beast with clawed feet and a spine covered tail. His face hidden with a helmet mixed between the shape of a lion and a dragon. From atop the rabid beast, he shot arrows, his own glowing stone set into the bend of his nearly a year, on each night a different warrior would come to quiet the horrors of the night and each night more horrors awaited until one night the people heard a terrible sound... There was a shriek and a cry and the sounds of demons and devils feasting of a fresh kill, from then on, the indigo warrior and his steed did not ride on the night of no moon. The hordes of evil grew, the warrior in green armor was felled and his death was silent, the masses over baring. The red warrior took out walls of the villainous monsters before she too was destroyed. The woman in yellow nearly escaped, but her dying cries could also be heard even through the thickest walls...On the night of the full moon, when the people thought that perhaps their last savior would not come, the prism armored warrior arose on the horizon, he rode furiously to each place that his comrades were destroyed, he gathered together their weapons and rode to the top of the tallest hill. His beast was wounded and his helmet shattered, his armor was badly damaged and it was clear that he too would meet the same fate, however, once at the top of the hill with the evils of the darkness closing all around him, he removed the stones from the weapons of his comrades and in each of his arrows he placed a stone, using what remained of his own stones power, he shot the four arrows into the heavens with a mighty cry. The stone in his bow shattered like an explosion of diamonds, the impact destroying him and all around. The four arrows pierced the veil and exploded similarly to the one in the bow, the dust spread across the sky and illuminated the land. The cruelties and despicable things of the darkness retreated in the face of the bright dust from the fifth and final arrow spread from the site, it spread through the air like mist and everyone was given a piece of the shattered stone so that if darkness became to strong they could rise up themselves and find the courage and the strength to fight. Even in the impossible odds. Everyone was given the ability to wield the same strength the warriors had, they needed only to look to the light that was now within them to scatter the darkness and free those who could not find their own thanks to those warriors and the magic in the stones they possessed, even a child can find the power with which to stand up against the darkness and show the light to those who would see it. It is also thanks to those warriors that we now have what most call the Stars. So be thankful for them and pray that never will five among you be forced to make the same decision that those brave souls made.