The End of Time

The cosmic winds mustered every bit of their remaining strength, blowing a final weak breeze through the universe. The Great Dragon, the one remaining light in the infinite blackness of space and time, felt the brush against its cheek, smiling one last time. All the worlds, the countless stars and suns, the moons, all of space and time were faded away except what little the dragon could keep alive around him. His friend, the Phoenix had long since turned to ash, never rising again. Now the cosmos had breathed its last.

He sought the words to whisper a final goodbye for all things that had faded, but found none. Language itself had died, yet the Great Dragon never realized. It had been so long since he'd last spoken. His breath came short now as he gripped the scythe of the reaper, who had faded away as well. This old rusted thing, the gnarled and rotted wood gripping to a blade that hadn't shone in ages and ages, would reap the dragon by his own hand.

The Great Dragon found no more breath would come to him. He was choking now, infinite sadness clogging his throat. He gripped the scythe tighter as his own light faded. It was the end, as had been told, but this wasn't how he had wanted it to be. He still wanted to say goodbye.

A single tear formed at the edge of his old gray eyes. It was the end of all things, space and time and gods and dragons. Nothing would be left after this. The Great Dragon closed his eyes one last time, his light gone. The scythe found its way into his soul, both fading simultaneously, save the tear.

All was gone. Infinite nothing surrounded the tear, but with the reaper's blade gone, the tear would exist for an eternity alone, exiled to the nothingness remaining in existence's wake. The tear found itself wishing to cry, but could such a thing be done.

It tried.

Light and stars burst forth from the tear as it began to bring light to the darkness that permeated all. It shone with a light brighter than any had ever existed, for nothing had before the tear. More tear-stars flew into the darkness.

In a mighty explosion, a rain of sorrow, nothingness became existence once again. The tear, which could not remember where it had come from, found itself surrounded by lights and stars and friends to be had. Happiness and hope found their way to the tear, which now shone brighter than any of its children. It spun and swirled and danced, shedding its sorrow and form.

Soon, a new Great Dragon was now fluttering about the cosmos, lights and stars dancing with it. Some stars darkened, becoming planets and worlds, wishing to bear life.

Time and space had been reborn. Of dark ashes sprouted a new Phoenix, burning just as brightly as the Great Dragon. One roared and the other chirped, flying together to spread their light and warmth. Their joy would have been unending, but the sorrow shed from the tear had found a form of its own.

The great lights stopped their flight at the foot of Death. A new scythe reflected their radiance. They knew now that one day, all would end. Eternities would pass until then, but one final moment would come. The Great Dragon would be the last, for it was the first.

"I would say goodbye to all," the Great Dragon swore. "Only after that will I go."