A/N: Moar Dynamis OTL. I've always wanted to do my spin on an angst fic for him while maintaining his character. This doesn't really explain curse logic (which I do have a headcannon that fully explains the logistics of it.) In a demented way, I kind of like the concept that the person who is cursed can have conscious thoughts while under the influence of a curse while the other 'them' does the bad party's dirty work. Have sum sad angst yum yum.
Dynamis sighed deeply. The air around Mist Mountain colder than usual, and seemed to feel almost foreboding. He placed his hand on his chest, feeling his heartbeat as if he had doubts he was living. Even though he had nothing hidden under his cloak anymore, powerful like another curse lingered over him.
Unbuttoning his cloak, he let it slip to the bedroom floor, leaving more of his exposed to the chilly night air. He pulled the collar of his black undershirt and looked down. To the day, he still didn't know why he continued to do this, as if he expected something to change. It was going to be there, and he was going to have it for the rest of his life. A milky scar had torn its way across his upper chest. It was not bigger than three inches long and one inch wide. But, it still gave him pain.
A constant reminder of Hades' curse.
The scar was like a new jewel, a reminder that evil once thrived. The scar reminded him of what happened that fateful night. The fact that he had failed everyone.
No, he shouldn't beat himself up. He couldn't have resisted the curse if he tried. There were many guardians before him, and if Nemesis had come any sooner, they would have succumbed to the curse's effects. He was just the one that the heavens decided would carry the burden of the curse. If anything, he was a hero among guardians, and he held a high, honorable, high status among them.
In fact, as far as curses went, Dynamis was quite lucky. Most of the time, cursed individuals were unable to break out of their trance, and were 'disposed' of they had been used. The fact that he had managed to break free of his curse for brief periods of time was a miracle in itself. Very few, if no cursed individuals had ever used their will to break through a curse. While he was forced to succumb to the curse again after he broke through, it was still a sign that his will was stronger than the curse.
The whole incident was a nightmare. It felt like he was forced to watch on from afar as his mind and body betrayed him. He wanted to scream to Gingka that it wasn't him that was doing this. Eventually, they figured out what was wrong, but didn't know how to help him. Though he couldn't remember it clearly, he could have sworn he could hear a sneering in his head.
Dynamis found himself sobbing uncontrollably.
When he was freed and the jewel shattered, and the evil left him to fall to the floor, exhausted. He felt that no one would trust him again, after all, hadn't he betrayed them? He felt strange when the welcomed him back so readily.
Pulling himself together, Dynamis looked towards the future. None of his children or descendants would have the curse looming over them. Maybe, he would be regarded as some great hero in the future. After all, he was the guardian that dealt with the second Nemesis Crisis. Stories would be told of him, like his ancestor who struggled during the first Crisis.
It was hard for him to let the curse go, and it was going to stick with him, even if it was in his subconscious, for the rest of his life. But, he was the designated sacrifice. And perhaps, it was better him than someone else.