Conversations with Christopher: Dyvian

Christopher wanders beneath trees, the ground beneath his feet sparsely covered with flowers. 

Christopher: Now I feel as if the Cauldron is becoming the Shadow Forest.

The trees open up into a clearing with a pond. Light sparkles upon the water’s surface becoming different colors. 

Christopher looks at a rose pink, deeping into red. He can almost see a person’s anger, their passion in the crimson. He gazes into the green to behold a love, nurturing other loves, allowing it to spread and grow, revitalizing everyone around it until the green began to yellow with fear and jealousy. He looked into the reflected blue of the sky, so wide, so encompassing. The blue darkens as it descends, going deeper, beyond the fallen tears into tenderness, wisdom, even more complex feelings until the hue itself is swallowed by darkness. Christopher watched the blue and the red overlap, becoming purple, passion and vigor melding with emotional depth. 

All of these colors, swimming and sparkling across the pond, are reflected in Christopher’s eyes. 

Christopher: It’s as if this place, this pool is a part of me. It’s the embodiment of Danyel and Tayel’s color game where different hues become character traits, aspects which might infuse a person. 

Dyvian: That’s because this is where the twins were born. Perhaps you were conceived here as well. 

Christopher turns to see Dyvian stepping out of the shadows of the trees. His white blonde hair is crowned with dark green leaves instead of flowers. He’s dressed in what seem like a black robe, but it’s actually a very dark green, shimmering with hints of color. 

Christopher: Were you born here as well?

Dyvian: (with a secretive smile) I was certainly reborn in this place. As was Damian. 

Christopher: (bows his head and shivers) Where is he? Did you and your shadow leave anything of him behind?

Dyvian: Shadows always leave something as you know only too well.

Christopher: Something. Not someone. Not the same someone. 

Dyvian: Change always brings a kind of death. Something has to end for something to begin.

Christopher: Damian didn’t end. 

Dyvian: No, he didn’t. My Leiwell suffers to this day from Damian’s continued existence. 

Christopher: It’s a suffering every shadow brings upon himself. Or herself. Themselves.

Dyvian: If the shadow is capable of such suffering.

Christopher: Are you capable of it?

Dyvian: Of course. I simply refuse to let my own pain interfere with my goals. 

Christopher: Acknowledging your own pain allows your goals to evolve. 

Dyvian: Or to be abandoned. Doubt can be a fatal thing when you’re bringing about a rebirth. 

Christopher: Is that what you’re doing, Dyvian? Bringing about a rebirth?

Dyvian: What do you think, Happily Ever After? 

Christopher: Creating a godling could be considered a rebirth. 

Dyvian: As could the creation of Danyel and Tayel. Who were you tryng to give a happy ending with them? Map and Ashleigh? Or yourself?

Christopher: Leiwell, perhaps? I was so angry with him. The cruelest thing I could do was to give him someone who could make him happy. 

Dyvian: Because happiness is fleeting? You’ve just admitted that the happiness you offer, your godhood is a lie.

Christopher: And yours isn’t?

Dyvian: Oh, I’m no god as your little Danyel reminded me. I’m much more of a devil, deceiving people into believing I’m a god. Only I never meant to deceive them. Did you?

Chirstopher: All I wanted was to get Damian back.

Dyvian: Instead you stole yourself back, only to be reborn as a concept. A misleading concept. 

Christopher: While you simply peddle misleading concepts. 

Dyvian: Seraphix and I mislead no one. Not one Follower. We gave them the means to become their own desires in return for faith and love.

Christopher: You mean you tempt your Followers into becoming their own temptations. 

Dyvian: Every god can become a devil, Christopher. Especially if they’re someone else’s god. Think about it. 

Steam rises from the pond. Colored flame leaps from the water’s surface, curling and flaring out. 

Dyvian lets his long heavy robe slide off to expose his naked body. He walks into the fiery water. The steam rises, surrounding both him and the pond, enveloping them. 

Christopher: (closes his eyes) As if you’d ever let me forget. No matter what you may twist rebirth into, it’s still a moment of hope. I have faith in Danyel and Tayel, faith that they’ll find the hope, even if I’m as lost as you are in the haze. 

He pauses to breath in and exhale. A plume of colored steam cuts through the haze, revealing a tranquil pool filled with shimmering light. There’s no sign of Dyvian. 

Christopher: We don’t have to stay lost, Dyvian. I hope you remember this. 

The pool doesn’t answer. 

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