And then it dawned on her...

A seed germinated. It grew and grew, in that liminal space where the notion of distance was meaningless and measurement was impossible. It grew endlessly and boundlessly, as if to cover all in sight. And that it did.

A scream rang out. Why was this happening to her, she pondered. How could she not? So suddenly and for no reason at all, why was she going through all that, alone? Truly, truly alone. She couldn't stop screaming, out of pain, out of desperation; she knew there was no helping hand coming for her.

And so, time passed. The colossal, ebony tree kept reaching further, further into herself, and outwards towards the sky. The slow passage of time made her question everything. In that endless moment, where the entirety of the world and of herself was covered by black, she hurt. When was the last time she felt free? What was freedom? Was she ever free?

Thoughts raced, as if that was all she was. She no longer remembered where she was. What she wanted. Who she was before that seed. Was there someone before that? Was she not merely a Tabula Rasa without that pain? Surely that tree was herself, so she understood. Pain and misery, that defined her. And so she submitted.

But one's nature cannot be so easily overturned. A small spark shined bright in that dark landscape. Was it Curiosity? Or perhaps Doubt? Whatever it was, it fell in the palm of that collapsed hand. That warmth, that comfort. A possibility she had long since abandoned. Hope, minuscule as it was, burned her entirely.

And she embraced the flame. She decided right then and there: in that world, there'd be her and only her. She placed that little ember that started it all deep in her heart, so that she'd always carry it, and never forget. She'd decided she was above that which tried to consume her world. She decided, if it couldn't be hers, it may as well not be anyone's.

And after what seemed like a millennia, that world of black was painted in the most beautiful flames of orange, purple and green.