THESE HIDDEN WINGS

[12.1] ORIGINS CLASS 521: INTRODUCTION (part-two)

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"I would call him The Designer"

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AFTER A DEAFENING silence he continued.

"In my Origin story, these pieces fit. Some will not, as you are still young and have much to learn, and better still, it is because you still believe in the word 'normal' even if you, yourselves are standing on the very ground that is fathomed as 'abnormal.' A mystical Island that cannot be located by any technology, one that shifts with the seasons."

He was talking about Kingsland. Mystical?

He continued, phasing into another more serious note.

"If I was to begin an Origin story, tell me, would I begin with a Big Bang?" He asked, his gaze moving across each of our faces.

He had a way of speaking that felt like he was talking to you directly, "that something as delicate as the earth should begin in Chaos? Science and some religions will tell us that and yes, it has its validations but other religions, other minds would differ, especially particular ones that come to mind."

He paused, his eyebrows furrowing, selecting each word with the utmost care.

"If I was to begin a story, as a man who holds 'belief' in high esteem and Creation more than a mere accident, I would like to believe there was a greater force that shaped all that is around us. All that has existed, even if we cease to remember. Something like an imagination that whipped the stars into being. A greater god, a greater force than ever imaginable."

His gaze shifted to the left side of the room.

"And in this Origin story, marveling at all that was made, I would call him The Designer. " He skimmed over each of us, "Do not think of him as a god, no, god is a name humans give to beings that were designed differently, whose laws are not governed like there are in this world. Those are gods."

I noticed how he threw the word around like it was nothing.

"Picture him as everything, picture him as ultimate, picture him as something incomprehensible, and picture you, yourselves as nothing."

His eyes glazed around the room, as mine did for a moment, realizing everyone was listening so attentively that if a pin dropped, it would be embarrassed at its noise.

"Picture the earth as his first masterpiece, like a painter in his prime. Like an iron wielder wielding his first creation. Picture the earth as a beauty before beauty was tainted," He trailed off.

"Sometimes a creation does not stay in its prime perfection. Sometimes as the years dwindle it seeks for something more, and the more it seeks, the more it imagines, imagines more. Imagination is an antique power; it isn't to be taken lightly. In my origin story, these..." he trailed off swerving his hand in the air.

"Wants from Earth's creation conceived a shadow, a shadow so small it was barely unrecognizable, but it grew like a child, oh it grew until it was enormous," he breathed out still seemingly entrapped in the tale, his eyes darkening, "and younglings, you must know that there is nothing more dangerous than when evil desires perfection, and it desired... replication."

He moved slightly forward adjusting his arms, "I call this darkness, 'The Deceiver.' A replicator of all things perfect. It wants what The Designer has, the ability to create as he creates, and in my origin story, it wanted the Earth."

"The Deceiver creates too, but unlike the designer, who creates out of mere imagination, it first must have an emblem of it, that is why anything created by The Deceiver is called a 'deception'. This is because it is never a 'perfection', only a replication evolved out of the imagination of what The Designers have already created. He does not have the ultimate power.... only a replication, a dupe. Species changed by the darkness that was spread to deceive perfection."