[Gift] to freedom

Once upon a time, he was a fighter. Driven and dedicated, he would hold on to his ideals, the things he cared about, like a vice. The white chain on his neck that stood out against his dark pelt reminded him of the years he spent imprisoned. The crescent-shaped horn through his head reminded him of the first taste of freedom.

Initially, freedom wasn't what he expected it to feel like. After years of being imprisoned and betrayed by one he trusted—his blood, his kin—he had thought freedom would be different. There was no fanfare, no parade to welcome him. No. Freedom instead came via a sharp pain, piercing through his skull and then once again as it shot through his jawbone.

Freedom hurt, but in a way that burned like a fire within, unlike the cold and unforgiving chain around his neck.

He had, though, expected freedom to be different. While imprisoned, he clung to the belief that he would find a way out, even if it was only to cope. When the angel treated him horribly as their pet, he would hold on to these meager thoughts. He pondered about his actions if he ever regained his freedom. Maybe he would find his sibling and make things right. Whatever that meant.

He never would've guessed what he actually did with his newly found freedom. After the mayhem of fighting his way to freedom, he instead wandered aimlessly around the Elysium. The landscape of gold and fresh air was beautiful and somewhat ethereal. After all the suffering he experienced, calm was such an unfamiliar feeling. The burden they experienced for all those years lessened, and the chain around their neck no longer felt so tight.

The peace that he desired for so long now made him feel uneasy. He had become accustomed to the chaos and the pain. The fighting spirit he once had and held onto was now beginning to dissipate. How ironic that the calm he craved for so long now made him feel uneasy. He felt adrift, like a wooden raft on the open seas. He had no idea what was next, and no way to navigate this situation.

There was no other option for him but to continue by putting one paw in front of the other. He avoided any other Elysiphims because of a combination of wariness and genuine uncertainty. He had no idea how to act around others anymore. They subjected him to horrible treatment as a prisoner and kept him in isolation, only interacting with him when they treated him like a pet. Now, he chose the life of isolation willingly, leaning on it like a crutch as he rehabilitated to his freedom.

His gaze shifted to the sky, observing the beautiful golden clouds and feeling the peaceful air around him. The scars of his past still felt rather fresh, making it hard for him to fully embrace the serenity and beauty of this moment. This freedom. As if the concept of peace was a notion so foreign to him that he could never understand it, no matter how much he had dreamed of it.

Still, he found solace in the simple act of looking up, trying his hardest to find a moment of respite in his surroundings despite the turmoil within.