Epilogue 1 Damon

EPILOGUE 1: DAMON

Dear Hellena,

My daughter, my heir, my hope.

A good friend once told me that to master one’s self is to master the world, the entire universe. At the time, I rolled my eyes, chalking it up to our drunken rambling. That and the spiritual place we found ourselves, holed up at a monastery somewhere in the Himalayas.

It wasn’t until years later as the pains of loss, the pains of aging, and the fears of having a wife wore on me that I began to understand what he meant.

Because my fear controlled me.

My love controlled me.

My emotions ruled over every decision I made. They were my universe, consuming my existence.

So one day, the day you were born, Hellena, I made a decision.

That I would master myself. That I would master a life that would provide a future for the place I called home, a place Hellena might one day call home. This was before I sent you away or had any idea that I might have to.

But it was life altering.

You became my life, Hellena.

And it gave me the purpose and resolve to make any hard choice. To sacrifice anything for a future for you.

I do not regret most of the choices I made. I do not regret the killing. Those things rest on my shoulders alone, and I will take them to the grave.

But I do regret that I did not fully succeed in my mission. I only hope that I have set things in motion that cannot be undone. That will lead to a future free from the insidious influence of my counterparts.

This will be my final message, my final journal entry.

Even if I make it through the end of this week, it won't matter. I've set things into motion that can't be undone no matter what I do. I made certain that I can’t take back the choice.

I've placed an order, so to speak, that can't be rescinded. Take that as you will. I won’t divulge the details here. I will spare you that much.

If anyone finds this journal, if you are reading this, Hellena, know that this account of the things we did in Sanctum Harbor, know that what I did was only in pursuit of the greater good. And as I write those words, I realize how evil they are.

And I have done evil in the name of good. Is that worse?

Yet it strikes me even now as damn near hilarious that the ultimate goal, the ideal future, will be one where there’s not a trace of us left even as you read this history. So maybe you should throw this book away. Forget you ever read it.

If there’s nothing of the Sinful left, I urge you to do so.

Turn around and run at any sign of our symbol, any hint of our meddling. As much time as I spent outlining our methods, teaching whoever might read this to take over, I find that I have no hope for that to happen.

I want this to stop.

Because in the end, we only tore ourselves down. We only ever brought about destruction. And what a surprise… an organization based on the worst of the sins, the core evils, lost its way.

I'm not sure whether it ever did work or whether it ever could.

I believed in the idea once. I truly did.

Unfortunately, I'll never know if the Sanctum Harbor of my dreams will ever exist. But you will. You can make your choice. You can choose to stay and fight.

Try to make a difference, or you can go, because trust me when I say that it will be a fight. There will always be someone pushing back against you, making things impossible, willing to die just to spite you.

There's always a light at the end of that tunnel, Hellena. And if a bitter old man like me can still have a glimmer of hope, then it must actually exist in some form.

Turn around, walk out that door, and go find your own way.

Stay true to your heart.

And every other empty platitude I can think of.

I'd like to say that there's always going to be good people you can trust. I thought I knew many along the way. In the end, I realized that I was the one who broke trust, who failed them.

I wish I knew of someone who could guide you, have your back. Protect you.

If I had to choose anyone, it would be my old friend, Gavin, my protege and a man I always envied for his confidence and self-assuredness. I know he's here, nearby.

And like a coward, I’ve never looked him up, never revealed that I am here, in hiding and only a stone’s throw away. I can see his face, his stern gaze. Because I never could bring myself to go see him, to apologize and to explain. Especially now that I've placed the order for a hit from his wife, the woman we both thought was dead.

There's no going back from that, in more ways than one.

I only hope he can forgive me if he ever finds out.

What would he say about this plan, about the way I have blundered?

He’d tell me that I’ve really given myself over to my namesake, Sloth. That I became complacent.

But no longer.

I want to keep writing, to stave off the creeping dread of what’s coming, but there's not too much else to say at this point. You’ve been warned, told of the options you have at your fingertips.

Now, it’s up to you to decide.

You have everything you need to leave and make your own life, or stay and carve one out here. The power is in the blood, in the circle of trust, if you look around.

If you're anything like your mother, I know you'll do the right thing in the end. And I have to trust that everything I've put into place will guide you there. The keys to the secrets. Put those pieces together and make something wonderful.

In the end, all I can wish for you is happiness. Even if it means the end of Sanctum Harbor.

The goal of the Sinful was to give second chances. Don’t spare yourself from that grace, Hellena. Be kind. Don’t become cynical.

It only leads to suffering.

And I have suffered for so long. It’s time to put those demons to rest.

To put aside my pride. Abandon my lust for power.

I wish you the best with all of my heart and I hope you never, ever find this journal.

Yours, truly and forever,

Damon Alden Michaels