[ there has been no shortage of lost, wounded souls among the Aion in Horos. it is something Abel has begun to see as time drones on; some made it readily and glaringly apparent, their suffering dramatic and even outright violent. some were better masked, better used to bearing that agony behind facades and (albeit unhealthy) coping mechanisms. some had been so injured they were numb to the pain they were in entirely, able to walk, to talk, to smile convincingly despite the atrophied state of their insides.

suppose Abel is learning which category Dokja is falling into among them.

Dokja looks at him like a frightened child who's desperately afraid of having done something wrong or a cornered animal that has been beaten one too many times. it breaks the priest's heart all over again, but Abel's smile is smooth, steady. that is what Dokja needs, right now-- not someone to lament his woes and cry over all the things he hasn't allowed himself to mourn. but instead... what he needs now, is... ]

You live.

[ ...what he needs now, is... ]

If thinking about what to do five minutes from now is too hard, then... let's settle for three. If three is too much, let's settle for one. If one seems overwhelming - let's just sit here 'til you decide. Eventually, you'll get hungry, or thirsty-- or maybe you'll decide you're tired, Dokja. So we'll get something delicious to eat you haven't had before... or maybe we'll share a cup of tea together before it gets cold. Or, maybe you'll sleep off the headache behind your eyes, wake up to find that the world isn't quite as painful as it was when you last closed them. We can live one moment at a time, for now. You don't need to have everything figured out; I mean it. Taking that pressure off your shoulders... maybe it will let you breathe 'til you find what you're looking for.