One of the most agonising moments of change is near its end. When one has evolved, and everything else remains cemented and static, dragging like a weight. Paray fought against the tide. Its movements were awash with a marked difference in confidence, and It strode with a more thoughtful, and pronounced pace. While Its nature still reigned over Its interactions with the Dreamers, there was a new sweetness to the horror It would illuminate. Even the way Its figure shifted and morphed had slowed to a more digestible pace. The revelations below the surface were highlighted, and the path forward devoid of the callused unbothered sadism of past.
Paray cared.
It cared whether or not the Dreamers would escape from the river. It knew that regardless if they realized or not, their deepest drive was a reunion between themselves and that higher spring, like Paray to Its Luci. Behind the veil, bathing in the river's light, Paray found the essence of Luci in Itself, and was shown the same spark within the other souls. To search further for Its lost love seemed moot. While in Its heart of hearts, Paray would always have an eye open for her, to continue the previous haphazard hunt would be redundant, and damaging. Paray knew the source for what It had been seeking could be found wherever It stood. As excruciating as it would be, letting her go was the greatest kindest It could execute.
So, with nowhere to go, Paray took Its time, and skipped no soul. The Nightmare dialled things down. Where Its norms had been to move with maximum intensity, serving the highest, most blunt and obvious metaphors, Paray now chose calm.
Heartbreak, embarrassment, humiliation, failure. In the realm of torture they each had their throne, though they lacked the addictive violence, and racing heartbeats Paray'd come to crave. The Dreamers relief into their awakening was of a different kind. Their escape was no longer followed by the checking of limbs, and thankful whispers that they were still alive. Instead tears shed upon waking washed at the foundations of mud caking their psyches. Their sobs more damning than their dreams. When they caught their breath, a profound gratitude blossomed for the gift of a second chance. They found encouragement for amends and effort. An opportunity for redemption from the river.
The Dreamers near the veil were easier to acclimate to, sweeter, seasoned, wrinkled souls. The change in their eyes mended the lack of change within the dreamscape. Rather than look to the Nightmare in terror they found horror instead at their own actions. They cared more of the death of their relationships than that of themselves. The begging remained, but its flavour had changed from the salty sweet of fear. Robust sorrow, electric tangs of shame, peppering remorse, exotic embarrassment, spiced the air. Guilt, a gentle bandage to heal their broken minds.
Still, despite the newfound direction, and change in attitude, Paray's heart was prone to flairs. The burning for Luci still lingered. Try as It might to move on, Paray still longed for her as much as It longed for the self It was around her. Many times Paray moved as a torch, controlled, though ever as passionate. A walking lantern that served Dreamers rather than a rampant consuming wildfire. Whether or not Luci walked beside It, her memories did. In the corners of the darkness Paray emitted, were familiar iridescent vapours. She'd left her mark on It for the better.
Time within the timeless passed. Inevitably Paray found Itself at the foothills of the mountain where they'd last stood together. At its peak It sat and surveyed. A cornucopia of worlds expanded to the expanses of Its vision as Dreamers dreamed. Paray watched them under a new scope. Up alone, Paray found harmony with the horizon.
The beauty It witnessed beside Luci was still there. But now Paray saw the awe in full. Saw humanity and its reverence for change. In the moment It felt the same gratitude It had for Luci blossom for them, the Dreamers. It realized that they were just as much a mirror for Itself as It had been for them. That It had been under the same spell of blindness as the ignorant that thought the Nightmare as nothing more than a mindless tormentor. That the journey to the river was another grander step in the lessons bestowed by Luci.
As with Its eyes, the gates within opened ever wider. Luci, the Dreamers, the River, they’d all played a part in Parays growth, and if It could've wept it would've. When It had collected Itself, and was ready, Paray descended from the peak unburdened and went to task again. The shift in Its steps was subtle, borderline invisible compared to the changes from the events transpired at the riverside. Paray's movements were now made in peace.
The hole from her absence had grown over, the wound healed. Nothing had replaced her, Paray had simply shifted. Evolved from her memory, and lessons. Aside from the surgical scars, the cancerous feelings of incompleteness had vanished. Paray was ok. Paray was whole.
So began the ritual. When the call felt right Paray would return to the same heights, relish the view, and relive the memories. Spurned only by a simple want, and whim. The reflective pauses were for Itself. For Its self care.
As It sat again, Paray rolled the sky, and played with the palette of colours above, delighting in the lavish hues. Sudden blue sparks soared around It. A warm palm found its way to Its shoulder. “i've been looking everywhere for you" sang an all too familiar voice on the wind. Paray’s heart dared not look back, and held the moment tight.
That wraps the short series Night Mirrors!
Thanks for reading,
-Mr. Write