The recognition was instantaneous. Barely a handful of steps into the forest, Creation’s magic tugged him forward, leading him with an intrinsic understanding toward the target he was made to find. His whole being had been ensnared, a rope pulled taut between him and whatever lay at the other end. Whoever lay at the other end.

Destruction.

His magic rejoiced as he made his way through the trees.

When he’d traversed far enough, he felt the distinct spark and swell of magic in the air. Not Destruction’s, not yet, but similar. Creation paused, one hand braced on the trunk of a tree to his left, and closed his eyes to the ripples of sensation. Five of them, all steeped in a magic that felt twisted beyond repair, an echo of Destruction’s magic lingering in the wake of what was no doubt a devastation. The scuffle Hunt had mentioned, though she’d made no remark about the warring magics, the one belonging to his companion and the one that felt so eerily similar yet so far off.

So, Chaos was looking for Destruction, too. Of course she would be. He could not imagine the pain of a goddess torn asunder. An unfamiliar pang of emotion sparked in his chest at the thought of two parts of a whole being separated.

He reached out blindly for what lay beneath the tainted magic, letting the rope linked between them pull taut once more. Now that he’d had a small taste of her magic, the phantom sensation of it fresh amongst the debris, it was easier to follow.

Could she feel it too? he wondered.

When Creation opened his eyes, he took in the surrounding flora nearly overgrown beneath his feet, his hand now tangled in vines of a tree. This rush of power came from being close to his destined lover. A smile began to dawn on his lips. Surely she knew he was approaching, perhaps sensing her own magic respond and wondering about the reason behind the sudden, frantic beat of her heart.

Creation blinked, placing a hand to his chest. It was true; his heart beat faster at the thought of her, at what being in her presence might provoke. Despite the inevitability of their encounter, his own anticipation manifested into something tangible.

Creation did not hurry towards the pull of Destruction’s magic, did not run or sprint. Each footfall felt lighter the nearer he grew. Their magics encircled them both to close the distance. Her power and thoughts whispered through the trees, in the wind. When he took a breath, he felt her very essence lining the inside of his lungs.

As he finally approached a glade, the staccato of his heart ceased, the tension in his shoulders and limbs relaxing at the distinct rightness that emanated from within. The same rightness he’d felt when Light called Destruction his companion.

She was within his reach. At last.

Without hesitation, Creation wandered, eyes falling easily on the form lying at its center.

Even with his immense knowledge, despite his minimal existence, he was certain he’d never seen anything so beautiful. Her hair was splayed about the grass, curling naturally like the waves of a darkened sea. Her tan skin seemed to glow in the moonlight, the stars themselves shining against her outstretched hand. He could not see her eyes, though he imagined them as ethereal as she appeared, with the wind blowing subtly at the sleeves of her tunic as she pinched her fingers together.

A star flickered from existence and Creation stumbled back at the sheer power. The devastating magic radiated between Destruction and the universe above, a single second of warped atmosphere and shattered existence, before the glade settled once more. Her magic felt catastrophic in person, paralyzing him.

And his own magic suddenly wanted nothing more than to be closer. Her power was ruthless, and any other being would have feared it. But Creation craved more.

After only a few steps into the glade, Destruction’s head turned towards him and her eyes, as bright as he’d imagined, opened wide in alarm. If it were possible to scramble to one’s feet gracefully, Destruction managed to accomplish it; her movements were fluid as she braced for attack.

But Creation would never hurt her, couldn’t she sense that? Not an ounce in his makeup could fathom harming her. Surely she could feel that he belonged to her as much as she belonged to him?

But if she did, she showed no signs towards him beyond hostility and panic. She tensed in a way that told Creation she was no more than a second from sprinting away. So, before she could, he stepped towards her, lips parted to speak, an arm outstretched to—

Destruction leapt back. The glade around them all but exploding in death and decay. The grass yellowed and then darkened as if burnt, and the trees shriveled and collapsed. What had once been a beautiful strip of untouched forest was now a graveyard, Creation and Destruction standing at its center.

Creation’s magic retaliated with its own outburst of power. This time, he saw Destruction react fully to it, eyes widening as she pressed her hand against her chest, shoulder slumping from the onslaught of sensation.

Within the span of a second, the grass beneath their feet was vibrant and lush once more, the trees reaching towards the night sky. Flowers dotted the glade where there had once been none, and when Creation bent down to pluck one from the earth, it simply continued to bloom.

The whole forest breathed their magic, Destruction’s intertwining with Creation’s without her permission, finally seeking his out, even while hesitating. Destruction’s very posture screamed caution

A coldness settled like a weight in Creation’s stomach.

What he had hoped would be a simple and natural unity between them was instantly dashed by the narrowing of Destruction’s eyes and the distrust in her voice as she asked, “And who are you supposed to be?”