If beauty were a black

A long time ago, people were beautiful. Their faces radiated happiness and purity. Blue wooden masks adorned with precious stones and coloured patterns floated like halos above every single one of them. Their sack-like garments shone like the moon whenever they were under the rain and of course, they never bothered. We loved the rain. But then our beauty left or evolved. Kaha, the epitome of beauty, was kind to us then. She believed everyone was meant to be beautiful. Some are not more than others. Balance, fairness and equity. Whether your ancestors were hideous monsters or ghoulish cave dwellers, Kaha's beauty defied your genes. So, the selfless work of making everyone beautiful was Kaha's life work until she meant someone who didn't need it. He wasn't a god or a mystery. A simple farmer. He grew yassses, botds and peppers, and lived in a small hut at the end of the flowing rocks. She came to him in the night and dispensed beauty upon him. It was then she discovered he was not without. His name was Juhwe’thkaki, *He who was not without* She was shocked, it was her duty to give people their beauty. Bestow upon them their specified wooden halo. He already had his, and it looked like a black ball of fire, larger than a sun, devouring everything in its path. She moved away from him. Puzzled, Juhwe woke up yawning. He looked around the fire, for a bit and saw Beauty. Startled he stood up and smiled. “Are you lost? “ And so began their story. Beauty and a beast.