Some say that death is the end of all things, others believe that death is only the beginning of something new…
A dream world just beyond the horizon where spirits dance at the edge of the universe, white flowers bloom and bud infinitely on a loop and butterflies swarm a sky that's breaking away at the seams. There was once a boy who lived in this world on the edge, he wore a kimono of velvet and silk and had long flowing silver hair like a river of moon rays. This boy was curious about everything and explored the vast pastures and beyond. He wasn't alone either—this boy was accompanied by a stranger who also bore silver hair an older man who was wise and adventurous. The two belonged to one another—they existed for each other—to explore their own reality together. One born from the other.
The older man was much more careful then the boy, he chose to move at a safe pace through this world, to view the curiosities from a distance. The boy however was much more daring—he liked to slip just over the boundaries— to risk his own existence for a mere butterfly wing. It was this fearlessness that was the boys blemish. Out of every lesson the older man had taught this boy, this was the one the boy could not grasp. The old man had tried very hard to burn this wisdom into his brain—but still the boy found himself in the midst of danger. And whenever that danger came, the man was always there to protect him. For this boy was precious to him.
There came a time in this story when the boy's blemish would set in stone a new story. This boy had come across a golden butterfly, a beautiful and rare living thing. The boy had never seen such things and his eyes lit up with longing for this butterfly, he needed to touch it. The golden butterfly was fast though and the boy could not keep up with it, his feet were not quick enough. He chased the butterfly across many pastures and over many hills of white flowers. The old man had tried to calm the boy but there was no way to break through the boys daze, he was hypnotized by this golden butterfly. All the man could do was follow.
Soon the young boy came to a magical creek, this river flowed over the edge of time… empty space extending beyond… falling into oblivion below. The golden butterfly was just at the edge of this creek, so close to the beginning of oblivion. The boy did not see the danger of this—he leapt out into the water, his legs staggering through the current and his eyes never leaving the golden butterfly. He was nearing the edge with every step, but around him everything was still—sounds were but distant echoes. When the old man arrived and saw what the boy was doing, he cried out to him, "White Flower, come back here!" the man called to the boy, but the boy could not hear him.
Another step forward, two… soon he was inches from the edge, hands outstretched—reaching for the golden butterfly. The older man could not allow this, in a panic he jumped into the water, rushing with all his might to save the boy. Another step and the boy would slip off the edges of reality. The boy was so close—he could feel the wind from the butterfly's wings, just a little more, the boy leap once more and as he did, he felt the water beneath him vanish, only air remained and he was falling. He cried out in that moment as he became aware of his surroundings and he was thrust back into reality.
The old man had warned him of such things, told him of the darkness at the edge. An empty hole of nothingness that sucked you in once you were within its grasp. The boy had never listened, always naive to the possibility that he could one day be caught in that darkness. Even as he was pulled down into oblivion his features were in disbelief. But before he could be pulled away for good, a hand reached out and grasped his wrist. It was the old man and he was pulling him back, with all his strength, he would not let his White Flower wilt. With the last ounce of his power he tugged the boy up but in the process the old man slipped… barreling over the edge just as the boy was pulled up to safety.
Nothing could save the old man now though as he was sucked into the darkness below. The boy cried out, reaching out to save his father—but his attempts were futile. Dark hands consuming the old man, pulling him further down engulfing him in oblivion. The last thing the boy witnessed was his father with a smile on his face… a smile that told him all was forgiven—a smile that told him to never seize smiling. The boy fell back into the river, tears in his eyes and his heart darkened with despair, he clutched at his chest, he could feel his heart racing.
"FATHER!" He cried in agony, as tears poured from his eyes. He heard a flutter from the darkness, moments later the golden butterfly appeared from beyond the emptiness landing effortlessly upon the silver haired boys leg. He wiped away the tears and for a moment he smiled like his father would have wanted… but that smile shattered all too quickly and the boys features darkened. Something wicked flickered behind his auburn eyes like a dark fire, without a second thought, he brought his hand down crushing the butterfly, the sound echoing through the pit of darkness beyond him. Moments later a golden wing fluttered into the depths -into utter darkness. Thus in death something new was born-Hatred.