The first time sunlight fell, the world let out a cry unlike any other. The drop fell swiftly, molten gold hurtling towards the surface of the Deep. It struck the water, illuminating the endless sea. In that moment, the world burned red. From sunlight came everything. 

The Phoenix, haughty and proud, guided the light, bringing forth life, giving each a spark to guide them. The King Above and his sister, the Queen Below, joined him, guiding the seasons in their inexorable tide. Together, they raised great continents, giving shelter to the life they had helped birth. In time, the forests sung with every manner of bird and beasts, and the seas frothed with every manner of living thing. 

The Deep stayed the same. Quiet and lightless, for the Phoenix had taken the sunlight above. There was life, yet it lacked the perfection or the idealism of what the Phoenix had made. The Deep remembered those fleeting moments, filled with light, yet it knew that it would never have it again. 

The Phoenix eventually took to the cliffs, watching creation and waiting until such a time when he was needed once more. Creation would thrive in his absence. Kingdoms rose and fell, each acknowledging and welcoming the sun’s gifts. And yet the Deep still awaited the gift of light, begging for something more than what it had been given long ago. 

When man first came to the Deep, it was out of ignorance. When the Deep responded, it was out of exhaustion. In the darkness at the edge of the world, where the river met the raging falls, the traveler knelt, dipping a hand into the water. The world let out another cry then, relief as the sunlight in man was brought to the hunger of the Deep.

The Phoenix did not stop it. From the highest peaks of the world, he gazed down into the abyss, waiting to see what the world’s response would be. The traveler returned safely, bearing news of what he had seen. Some mocked him. Others labelled him a madman. Yet some listened and learned, and the breadth of human knowledge grew wider. 

The Deep was left dark. No one came in search of the ebony pools, the journey too far or the risk too great to be considered. In time, mankind returned to their own squabbles, the struggles of mortal kings more pressing than the darkness from the world’s birth. 

Yet the world had changed. The Deep had tasted sunlight yet again, and man was a fickle race, driven by curiosity that burned brighter than even self-preservation. Knowledge was a dangerous plaything, and once tasted, some things could never be forgotten. The Phoenix waited. It remained to be seen what would come.