This tale of the Shadow Forest came to me as a result.
The crack in reality opened. Leiwell could see stars, ready to explode and cool into other worlds, other possibilities.
“That’s right, my darling.” Dyvian wrapped the scarf around the boy’s neck with loving tenderness. “Take it all in with those lovely new eyes.” He pressed a mug into his creation’s hand. “Just drink a little more strength and purpose before you leave with your new mother for a different world.”
“My new mother?” Leiwell blinked in the steam which hissed and stung his eyes.
“A stubborn, wilful old crone, clinging to reality and allowing it to define her.” Dyvian’s lower lip curled in almost sensuous scorn. “Map will, however, ground you and give you direction like no other.”
Leiwell lifted the cup to his lips and sipped. A cruel bitterness touched his tongue and mouth.
“I don’t want to feed on anymore of Damian’s strength.” The words sounded as childlike and bitter as the essence of the man he’d just consumed.
Not all of Damian. Just enough to strengthen Leiwell and change him. Not that Leiwell felt this was a good thing.
“Shouldn’t I have strength of my own?” He shivered, clinging to the mug, neither lowering it nor drinking from it.
Dyvian’s eyes shimmered with a mixture of pink, gray, lavender, and icy blue, clear and reflective as ice. Leiwell could see a small, sulking face reflected in each pupil, chin obscured by the cup held by small hands.
The face was his. Leiwell was viewing himself, reflected in his master’s eyes.
No matter what else he became, he was still a part of Dyvian.
The thought warmed Leiwell, even though it contradicted the wish he’d uttered. He preferred to remain a part of Dyvian rather than let Damian Ashelocke inside him.
“It’s too late for such desires, my darling.” Dyvian reached out to touch the boy’s hand. “We’re both bound to Damian now.”
Leiwell shuddered, unable to suppress the chill which crept through his new limbs.
“It’s not all bitterness.” Dyvian withdrew his fingers to gesture to the crack.
It sent burning white tendrils out into dark ground, the very roots of trees, creeping up the branches.
“Take another drink and look again.”
Leiwell took another swallow. His victim’s discontent burned his throat, coating it with pain.
Ah, yes. Leiwell had a throat now. He ought to be grateful to Damian Ashelocke for the gift, only he feared there would be a hefty price for this ‘gift’.
He stared at the pinpricks of light, dancing in and out of the crack. Two of them pulsed with a fragile strength. One emitted a cool, blue glow, casting icy afterimages of circles, triangles, and overlapping teardrops. The other pulsed with a soothing, green warm, which stretched out with tiny tendrils toward Leiwell.
“What is this?” He longed to reach out for his hand, to cup those delicate stars in his new palm, protecting them from the dark forces which whispered in both worlds.
“Just as I am your Once Upon a Time, they are your Happily Ever After.” Dyvian raised his own hand, which trembled. The gleam in his pale eye was almost hungry.
For a moment, Leiwell’s beloved master seemed as menacing as Damian Ashelocke.
“Never lose sight of them.” Dyvian blinked, shook his head.
He turned to Leiwell, gentleness softening his mouth and cheek. “Even if you lose sight of me, hold them close.”
“I won’t lose sight of you.” Leiwell reached out to seize one of his master’s long, cool hands. “You created me. I belong to you.”
“How I wish that could stay true.” Dyvian turned his melancholy gaze toward the crack. “The will that animates me, allowing me to exist when I shouldn’t, demands otherwise.”
He took the mug from my other hand and turned to face the crack.
He raised the vessel towards the pinpricks of light, before bringing it to his lips.
The crack disappeared along with Dyvian.
Leiwell was left in the darkness of the forest alone.
Waiting for his new mother.
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