I want you to close your inner eye and think of a man at the edge of a black-hole. He does not know how he got there, but it his wish to jump across.
It is his thought that his woman, long lost to the vicissitudes of fate, lies at the other end of the chasm. He believes that if the sun should travel far enough West, it will eventually rise in the East.
What maniacal force drives him in his efforts?
Necessity.
Destiny is a necessary thing. It imposes itself, even on the status quo.
What is to become of this man, this created thing? Are we to cast him off like all the other heroes?
Will the world open its mouth? Will the frogs waken in the morning to sing blessings for his birth?
Let us say this man is indeed the central God in the pantheon of deities I created for myself. Let us call him Arubin.
Let us call his counterpart, the woman, though she is not really woman, Zafira.
What has she been up to in the thousand years? Well, for one, she split in two. One half, the Mirror Angel, ascended to the Heavenly Quarters to receive divine instruction from the Holyfields (yes, i mean that ancient family). The other half, Tearful Lapis, descended to Blackness to transform. She gave birth to her child in that darkness (she was pregnant. they both were, but Mirror Angel lost her baby in the ascent), and the child drank deep of the ancient waters.
It is said that a child fed in the darkness shall be no friend of light, and it holds through even to this day.
This shall be the story of the child bred in darkness. He who they cannot kill, they worship.