Kazeomazel Omniverse
Mary knelt beside Donovan's bed, the lamplight painting long, shifting shadows on the wall. Her son, all of seven years old, sat propped against his pillows, his usually bright eyes clouded with a worry that seemed too heavy for his small frame. He clutched his worn teddy bear, Barnaby, to his chest.
"Mother," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "Is what they said… true? Is there heaven and hell? The fires of eternity?"
Mary's heart seized. She knew the source of this fear. Mrs. Gable, the overly zealous Sunday school teacher, had clearly been planting seeds of dread in impressionable young minds again. Mary had specifically asked that Donovan not be exposed to such dogma, but in their small, close-knit town, avoiding it entirely proved impossible.
She smoothed a stray lock of hair from his forehead. "Donovan, sweetheart, who told you about heaven and hell?"
He hesitated, then mumbled, "Mrs. Gable. She said if you're bad, you go to hell and burn forever. And if you're good, you go to heaven and sing with angels."
Mary sighed, a soft expulsion of air. "Honey, those are just stories. They're meant to… encourage people to be good. But they aren't necessarily the whole truth."
Donovan's lower lip trembled. "But... what if they are true? What if I do something bad?"
Mary pulled a chair close to the bed and sat down, taking his small hand in hers. "Donovan," she began, choosing her words with care. "I tell you there is only the underworld. But understand, there is no flame there, no suffering there."
He looked at her, his brows furrowed in confusion. "The underworld? Like… Hades?"
Mary smiled softly. "Not exactly like the myths. Think of it as… a quiet place. A waiting room for reflection. Just silence. No fire, no devils with pitchforks, no eternal screaming. Only… peace."
Donovan seemed slightly relieved, but his brow remained furrowed. "But what happens there? Forever?"
Mary squeezed his hand. "Not forever, my love. Eventually, your soul… it doesn't vanish, but it disperses. It becomes part of something bigger."
She paused, gathering her thoughts. How could she explain reincarnation to a seven-year-old without scaring him further?
"Think of it like a garden, Donovan. When a flower dies, it withers and fades, but its seeds scatter. And from those seeds, new flowers grow. It's the same with souls. When your soul has rested in that… quiet place, sometimes just for days or weeks, the divine spirit will reincarnate you."
Donovan's eyes widened. "Days or weeks? But how do you know about that, Mommy?"
Mary smiled mysteriously. "The Overseers, son. They exist in every omniverse, watching over their underworlds. Our Overseer is probably hearing this conversation and is laughing right now!"
"But mommy," Donovan questioned, his eyes widening further, "how many are the Overseers? Are they strong enough?"
Mary's smile softened. "Very strong, son. From the books I've read, it's stated they are slightly more powerful than even Unbounds. Their numbers? No one is sure. All we know is that they exist in every underworlds, protecting the souls."
(A voice, ancient and amused, echoed not from the room but from beyond the confines of their omniverse): "Indeed, it's very amusing seeing a child believe in fairy tales. Hmm... I tell you, child... boundless love is boundless love, meaning you're forgiven even if you commit all known sins. The divine spirit is that boundless love, the sign of Omnius, the loving embrace himself, so do not fear."
A stunned silence fell over the room. Mary's grip tightened on Donovan's hand, her own eyes mirroring his sudden shock.
"Reincarnate? You mean… I'll be born again?" Donovan questioned, his eyes wide.
"Yes," Mary confirmed. "You will be born again. Maybe as a person, maybe as an animal, maybe even as a flower in that garden. But you will be given another chance to experience life."
"Even if I'm bad?" he asked, his voice laced with anxiety.
Mary shook her head, her gaze unwavering. "It doesn't matter how much sin you may have committed. The divine spirit simply grants boundless mercy. She… well, she is everywhere, in all infinite universes or infinite omniverses."
"She?" Donovan questioned.
Mary nodded. "Yes. The divine spirit is the sign of Omnius's love. She is the source of all creation, all life, all existence. She sees, she understands, she forgives everything. She knows that sometimes, people make mistakes. She knows that sometimes, bad things happen. But she never stops loving us."
Donovan pondered this, his little mind struggling to grasp the concept's vastness. "So... even if I lie to you, or break my toys, or don't share with Lily, the divine spirit will still give me another chance?"
Mary smiled. "Yes, darling. She will. But that doesn't mean you shouldn't try to be good. Being kind, being honest, being generous… these things make the world a better place. They make your life better. And the divine spirit notices those things too, and she cherishes them. But if you slip up, if you make a mistake, she will always be there to offer you another chance."
She reached out and brushed a stray strand of hair from Barnaby's head. "You see, Donovan, the stories of heaven and hell, they're about fear. They're about trying to control people through fear. But the divine spirit isn't about fear. She's about love, and forgiveness, and endless possibilities."
Donovan was silent for a long moment, then he snuggled deeper into his pillows, Barnaby clutched tightly in his arms. "So... there's no fire? No burning?"
"No, sweetheart," Mary reassured him. "No fire. Just silence, and then… new life."
He let out a long, shaky breath. "That sounds... better."
Mary kissed his forehead. "It is better, Donovan. It's much better."
She stayed by his side for a while longer, humming softly a lullaby from his infancy. As his breathing deepened and his body relaxed, she knew the seeds of doubt planted by Mrs. Gable hadn't been entirely eradicated. But she had at least offered him an alternative, a perspective rooted in boundless love and hope rather than fear and judgment.
Later, as she walked down the darkened hallway, Mary couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness. She wished she could shield Donovan from all the complexities and contradictions of the world, but she knew that was impossible. All she could do was offer him her own truth: a truth based on compassion and understanding, one that celebrated the boundless mercy of the divine spirit.
She knew her views wouldn't be popular in their town, that she would likely face disapproval and even outright hostility from some. But she refused to let fear dictate her parenting. She would continue to raise Donovan to be a kind, thoughtful, and compassionate human being, not because he feared eternal damnation, but because he understood the inherent value of love and empathy.
As she reached her bedroom, Mary paused by the window, gazing up at the star-studded sky. She wasn't sure what lay beyond this world, what happened after death, or if her understanding of the divine spirit was truly accurate. But she believed in the power of love, the importance of forgiveness, and the endless potential for growth and renewal. And that, she decided, was enough. That was the truth she would pass on to her son, a truth that would guide him through the darkness and lead him towards the light. A truth born of a mother's love, whispered in the quiet darkness: "Just remember Donovan, the divine spirit is the sign of Omnius's love."