Shadows fell around two silhouettes, while glimmers of orange-lavender candlelight nudged them away and travelled up to the top of the bedposts to watch the mother and son.
“What short story would you like to hear this time, Rem?” A soft, strained, and serene voice sang throughout the room. Yelena pulled her son onto her lap and stroked his hair as affectionately as a mother cat would its kitten.
“My favourite one, Mummy!” Eirem rocked left and right on his mother’s lap and clapped his hands together, chanting an old lullaby. “Pro-me-the-us! Prometheus the torchbearer! The Bestower! The Father! Please, Mum~!” He ended with a whine.
Yelena chuckled, her hand delicately covering her mouth, pink eyes dancing in amusement. She looked down at her son, his cheeks rosy and lavender-red eyes twinkling with glee, just like the stars shining through the window. “Alright, alright. Calm down now, my boy. I’ll tell you about Prometheus, but are you sure you don’t want to hear about Orion the Hunter?”
Rem nodded, his face full of vigour and restlessness. “Orion can wait! I want to hear about Prometheus, pleaseee? Don’t make me wait…”
“Hehe, you’ve got to learn to have some patience, Eirem. That being said, make yourself comfy and I’ll start now.”
“Yes, Ma.”
“295 PHE: Post-Human Era. Millions of years into the future, with the help of Astrum Harvesters—machines that extract streams of Nyx matter—Humans have evolved and transformed their DNA, becoming entirely unique and diverse beings.”
“Now fueled by the very essence of the universe itself, the Yumans ascended by their own will!” Rem said as he threw his hands into the air and interrupted his mother, accidentally hitting her on the head in the process. Yelena’s cheeks puffed up in mock annoyance.
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“Remmy! I thought I was the one telling the story here?! Maybe I shouldn’t after all—”
“No, no, I’m sorry, Mum, please continue… But could you please tell it with some Cønstructs?”
“Fine— but don’t interrupt me like that again!” Yelena chided Rem with a warm smile. He nodded.
Yelena brought her hands up as if she were going to conduct an orchestra and then brought them down, swirling and spiralling like leaves in autumn. A mark on her right hand lit up, and the room exhaled a breath of relief as it came alive. The pale light of the candles was siphoned into Yelena’s right hand and flowed through it, forming various holograms in the room. Human-like figures sprang up from the shadows and light. They stood nobly, chins pointing up towards the stars…
Eirem shuffled in his mother’s lap, captivated by the Cønstructs dancing around the room. Each night, as Yelena performed, he was reminded of her love and strength, and he asked for the Cønstructs because he knew it made her happy.
The centre figure stepped forward and reached out at Rem as Yelena continued, “They fashioned themselves as gods. One among them, Prometheus, shared the gift of flame, Nyx Matter, with uncivilized races.’’
The figure grabbed something out of the air right in front of Rem and inhaled it through his mouth, holding his breath and keeping the Nyx inside. “Prometheus fought for justice and equality, but he was wrong and misguided; he bestowed the gift of flame too early.”
Yelena’s hands moved gracefully, weaving the story with light and shadow. “He was careless in his giving, not seeking to educate before empowering the weak. Prometheus didn’t teach them to be better—better than those who had oppressed and looked down on them.”
“As a flawed god, he gave these mortals flame, and thus, the mortals burned one another before turning their torches towards the gods, igniting war and chaos across the universe.”
In the final scene, the Cønstructs depicted Prometheus bending down and handing the gift of flame to his children. The flames consumed him and everything they touched.