[right][h2][color=8493ca]Damien's Catharsis[/color][/h2][/right]

[color=8493ca]It might have been days. It might have been minutes. It wouldn't be unreasonable to guess a matter of months that Damien sat in that field. Each breath was of the freshest air that had ever blessed his nostrils. Damien cycled between sitting quietly with his eyes closed and noticing the beauty around him through sight, smell, and touch. Sometimes, he lay on his back or on his stomach to examine the world from a different perspective. Sometimes he walked. Sometimes he stood. 

During his time exploring the field, Damien came across distant mountains, crystal-clear lakes, lush rivers, and charming brooks, all much more beautiful than anything he had ever seen in all of Hell. With each new discovery, Damien was surprised by how lovely Creation could really be.

And throughout his travels, all he knew was peace. 

peace. 

peace.

now, damien sits cross-legged in the grass amongst a sprouting patch of purple crocus. the ground feels cold against his fur and hooves, as if this part of the meadow had just come out of winter. he watches calmly as the round buds push up steadily through the warming earth. he attends to each unfurling leaf, each stretching stem. from somewhere above him, hellebore petals fall across his hair and horns. damien closes his eyes gently and breathes in. with each breath out, he feels more still and more peaceful. he feels connected to the garden surrounding him. he feels at peace. he feels loved. he feels accepted.

he hasn't seen the moth at all since the day he chose to stay, but he knows it is watching. somehow, somewhere. it sees and knows. but beyond the moth, he feels seen and known by the universe.

damien takes another deep breath in, then lets it out. his mind feels clear. he feels assured. he feels steady. damien looks across the entire field before him, his gaze moving slowly with all the time in existence. when he's finished, when he feels ready, he closes his eyes and once again focuses on the warm sun on his fur, the soft breeze in his hair that gently rustles the plant life surrounding him.

[b]"thank you,"[/b] he whispers. then, he disappears.[/color]


[hider=(mini) Epilogue!]
[color=8493ca]When Damien opened his eyes again, he was gasping for breath. He'd gone over the edge of the cliff, noose over his head, but the rope partially caught on his horns. A deep headache split across the top of his skull as he blinked awake and clambered up the rope.[/color]

[color=f49ac2][b][i]"Damien!"[/i][/b][/color] [color=ed1c24][b][i]"Oh, Damien, there you are! Are you--oh my Lucifer, are you okay???"[/i][/b][/color] [color=9e0039][b][i]"Damien, I swear to all that is unholy, if you [i]ever[/i] do something like that again I'm gonna finish the job for you."[/i][/b][/color] [color=f49ac2][b][i]"Here, let's get you up..."[/i][/b][/color]

[color=8493ca]The voices of his friends swirled and echoed in his head as oxygen slowly returned to his veins. He weakly pulled himself back onto the cliff with the help of his friends. Someone lifted him, someone grabbed his herbalist kit, and someone kicked the rest of what was left behind into the canyon. High on oxygen deprivation and a hearty dose of sedative herbs, Damien couldn't be sure whether he spotted a moth Sinner on their way back to the hotel. Maybe it was a look-alike, maybe it was a hallucination. Either way, Damien never saw them again.

He was soon in his bed. Someone pulled back the blackout curtains, someone made him comfortable with plush blankets and pillows, and someone was scuttling around the room, making it tidy for the first time since he had arrived. Someone else (begrudgingly, by the sound of it) brought tea and yet another demon stood in the far corner of the room, seemingly keeping watch.

Damien melted into his bed. His room smelled of lavender. How he had missed it. [b]"Thank you,"[/b] he whispered to anyone who was listening. Then, he slipped easily into the deepest, most refreshing sleep he's ever had. 

He dreamt of flowers.[/color]
[/hider]