#the scriptorium

Damien's body seized violently as agony overtook him. He crumpled to his knees, his muscles locked in torment. The unnatural crackle of Dark Magic filled the air, wrapping around Damien like unseen chains, forcing his limbs into painful, involuntary contortions. Sebastian stood rooted in place, horror dawning in his eyes. He had known it would hurt. He had braced himself for what was to come. But nothing could have prepared him for the sight of Damien writhing beneath the force of his own spell. He suddenly loathed himself. Loathed himself entirely. What had he done?  As Damien's convulsions lessened, Sebastian stepped closer, his chest tightening. Guilt warred with a restless, unspoken curiosity. He had read about the curse's effects, but witnessing them firsthand was something else entirely. It sent a chill down his spine.  "Are you alright?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, knowing full well that no answer could undo the damage he had done. The damage he had inflicted.  Another anguished scream tore from Damien's lips, reverberating through the chamber. Sebastian recoiled, staggering backward. The magic still crackled violently around Damien, writhing like a living thing, and then - before Sebastian could fully process what was happening - it lashed out, striking the very door that had barred their way. The door groaned under the assault, its surface warping and swirling like molten lava, and then, it melted away into the floor, granting them passage.  They were free. But at what cost?  As the curse finally relinquished its hold, Damien managed to regain some semblance of composure as he righted himself, one hand clutching his stomach. The worst had seemingly passed. At least Sebastian could hope. "Are you alright?" Ominis said, echoing Sebastian's earlier concern, although his tone betrayed more horror. Sebastian flinched, realizing that in comparison to Ominis, his earlier question must have come across as distant, maybe even callous. But that wasn't fair. It wasn't indifference - it was shock. His mind was still churning, his body still locked in the moment when he had spoken the curse. When he had willingly chosen to torture Damien. His friend. His...  "That pain," Damien cut in before Sebastian could finish his thought, "it was excruciating." His voice was so strained, so weak. "But I'll survive. Let's keep moving." Damien steadied himself, his hand falling away from his stomach as he lurched forward. Sebastian lingered a few paces behind, watching him warily. A part of him wanted to move closer, to catch him if he fell, but Damien seemed like he was holding his own. As Damien led the way through the opening, Sebastian hesitated. How close should he permit himself to be after what he'd just done? His guilt was still suffocating, pressing down like a weight on his chest. But then his gaze lifted beyond Damien, and for a moment, all else faded.