Nothingness

He was not a being of light.

He had never been one, but they had persevered; she believing that she had the strength to endure, but not realising the strain that it would eventually wreck on her. Others had cautioned her against it, but she would not heed their words, for surely a child of light could illuminate the soul of darkness. 

And it seemed that it would work, them in their optimism, as naive as children who had never heard the tales of such a consort, as stubborn as the bullish minds of teenage years, and for the first few weeks it seemed that it would work.

Even he, in his shroud of night seemed to blossom as their union progressed, almost glow with an ethereal light when he was with her.

At least until they touched.

It wasn't until that moment that they realised the force that it would extol on them, as they watched in horror as her light seemed to flow into him, only to be swallowed into the dark abyss that lay within him, and try as she might, she could not regain her light once more - and he could not control his nature, could not stop the endless ebb of light into his being, only to be filled with a nothingness that he could not forestall.

And each was changed, no longer whole, incomplete, each trapped in a cycle of despondency that they were unable to regain their true selves once more.

And so they waited .

He was not a being of light, they had warned her.

But she had not listened.