Inar: The Mother of All Things

The white planet spun slowly in the infinite void, wrapped in the soft breath of the wind and bathed in golden light that vibrated without a fixed point. At its center, a figure danced, ran, and twirled, accompanied by voices and laughter that echoed through space.

Inar played with her friends — sound, wind, light, and ground. Each of them, in their own way, responded to her presence, like invisible children playing tag in the endless void.

— "Wind!" — she shouted, laughing, as a playful gust pushed her, lifting invisible strands of her hair. — "You're fast, but you can't catch me!"

The wind whispered back, swirling around her in teasing spirals. Inar ran, jumped, and each time her feet hit the ground, sound exploded beneath her, reverberating through the white surface, which vibrated beneath the game.

— "Ground, you're the most serious one," — she said, kneeling to tap the surface gently. — "But I like you that way. Someone needs to be steady, right?"

The ground remained firm and silent, yet Inar knew it was listening. With each jump, she felt a faint pulse beneath her feet, like a quiet response.

— "And you, light?" — she raised her arms, and the light around her shimmered, swirling into spirals at her command. — "You're my bright friend. Always here, always beautiful."

The light pulsed gently, wrapping Inar in a radiant embrace. She laughed, spinning with her arms wide, basking in the warmth of her luminous companion.

Inar had named them all. The wind, the sound, the ground, the light. Each had a name, an identity. Something that made them unique.

But then she stopped.

A thought streaked through her mind like a silent flash of lightning. She looked at her hands, then at the ground, and whispered:

— "And me? What's my name?"

Silence, her old companion, returned. The wind stilled. The sound ceased. The light froze in place, as if the entire universe were holding its breath, waiting for her answer.

— "I… I'm just me," — she said, uncertainly.

The word "me" echoed through the void with unexpected force. Inar frowned. She liked that word. "Me." It sounded simple, strong, and… familiar. But it couldn't be just "me". She needed something more. A name. Like sound, wind, light, and ground. Something that was hers alone.

She sat on the white ground, crossed her legs, and closed her eyes. She began to think.

She thought… and the universe reacted.

Her thoughts blossomed like invisible sparks, leaping from her mind and taking shape in the surrounding space. Tiny lights appeared, shy at first, flickering like seeds of brightness. Inar opened her eyes and gasped.

The lights multiplied. Slowly, they rose toward the infinite sky, spreading across the darkness. Hundreds at first, then thousands. Inar stood, enchanted, watching the little flames of thought drift beyond her sight.

— "What are you?" — she whispered.

The lights didn't respond. They simply hung there, motionless, pulsing like tiny, glowing hearts.

Inar smiled. She understood. They were her questions, her curious thoughts, her scattered pieces suspended in space. They were… beautiful.

— "I'll call you stars," — she decided.

The word was spoken, and the universe accepted it. The stars fixed themselves in the dark sky, shimmering as if they'd been given a soul. The heavens, once vast and silent, now displayed a tapestry of tiny suns, each carrying a fragment of her curiosity.

Inar lay down on the ground, gazing up at her creation. The stars didn't play like sound, wind, or light. They didn't move like the ground. They simply were, serene and watchful.

— "Stars…" — she repeated, savoring the warmth of the word.

Then her mind drifted back to the start of it all. What had led her to create the stars? What had made her release her thoughts into the sky?

Her name.

Inar furrowed her brow. She still didn't have a name. But now she knew what she wanted. Something simple, strong, but soft. Something that echoed with the same strange satisfaction as the word "me".

— "I…" — she whispered. — "I am… I am…"

She began to say sounds at random:

— "Ea… Ina… Ara… In… Inar…"

She stopped.

Inar.

The sound rolled off her tongue like a soft breath, a gentle whisper. It was close to "me" but distinct. Inar. Simple, direct, strong. But also curious and light, like the wind.

— "Inar," — she repeated, and the stars seemed to twinkle in agreement.

The light swirled gently around her. The sound vibrated softly beneath her. The wind curled around her form, warm and familiar.

— "My name is Inar!" — she shouted, laughing.

The universe heard and answered. The name resonated through the void, bouncing from star to star until it was swallowed by the endless distance.

Inar closed her eyes, content. She was no longer just "me". She was Inar.

And as the universe heard that name, it knew that from that moment on, everything would change.