"Long ago… Long before all this even existed or was fated… the universe was young, but the guardians were already insane."
The worlds were forming in those days, the days of Purusha. The galaxy was flat and muddled and barely formed.
Those days passed.
Purusha found herself ruler of a burning star and lifeless rocks spinning about it. Just as all guardians.
All there was was her and her magic.
She was the first to go in her own star system, for there was no one else about. There was no one else to go first, and no one else to prevent her.
Like a trapped rat, she began to scratch at the walls of her mind until she’d worn it almost entirely away. She scratched at the walls of her world, but never found another living being. Then she scratched at the walls of magic. The latent magic within her was that of her system, just as the magic before had been the magic of the great burgeoning blob. It had burst open, too full of power and matter and magic spread thoughout a universe that had never been before.
Purusha had found her magic and slunk away from everything else into it.
She was the first. She wouldn’t be the last.
Purusha took her power and formed it into a solid crystal, and shattered it.
There were guardians for the giant rocks flying about the star, and for the star itself. And a ruler to govern them all.
And no more Purusha, no more. She had become her magic, it had become her children. She was not them, but they would go the same way, one way or another, in one sense or another.