The two thousandth year after the birth of the first human.
Life had begun. But it was still confused.
Animals roamed without fear. Trees grew without knowing why. And humans… well, humans had just barely started dreaming.
El Que Llora walked the Earth with bare feet and quiet steps. She didn't need to, she was a goddess, but she liked to feel the ground beneath her toes. It reminded her that everything, even gods, came from somewhere.
She wandered through a mountain valley, listening to the cries of wolves and the soft songs of wind.
And then… she heard something else.
A small sound. Not like thunder or rushing water.
A human sob.
She followed the sound, stepping lightly through thick grass and mossy stones, until she saw her.
A little girl.
She was sitting under a tree, her knees pulled to her chest, her cheeks streaked with dirt and tears. Her clothes were torn and her foot was bleeding.
El Que Llora tilted her head.
The girl didn't look up. She just whispered to herself, over and over.
"They left me… they left me…"
El Que Llora knelt in front of her, her red eyes glowing in the shade.
"Your parents?" she asked gently.
The girl finally looked up. Her eyes were full of fear and something else. Something older than her years.
"Who are you?" the girl whispered.
"I am… the one who caused."
The girl stared for a long time. "You made mama and papa go?"
El Que Llora shook her head slowly. "I apologize my child."
She reached out, and for the first time in all of creation, a god touched a human's hand without judgment.
The girl clutched her tightly.
The pair wondered for hours.
"Aren't you afraid little one?" She asked
The little girl turned towards her.
"You don't seem scary..." The little girl commented
"After all... You look like you've been crying too."
El Que Llora keeps a straight face and kneels down to her.
"What is your name?" She asked
The little girl looked confused.
"I don't have one." She replied.
El Que Llora cups her face.
"Let's give each other names." She suggest.
And so, they continued to wander together, until they found a village. El Que Llora spoke with a man, convincing him to let them rest in his humble home for the night.
As they entered, the little girl squeezed her tightly and whispered, "You're Elara."
El Que Llora's face remained unchanged, but there was a deep, unknowable feeling stirring within her. She gently patted the girl's head, feeling the warmth of her orange hair beneath her fingertips.
"That's wonderful," she whispered. "Vita."