The light was warm but so intense that he could not open his eyes. Little were his senses giving him, he just was. No more or less . He no longer felt Bonnie's hand he had held, he was just alone in this blinding abyss. Without fear, he closed his eyes, giving into the other brightness that surrounded his body. Was he moving anywhere? Was he standing? Did he have a body at all...
With this giving in, he began slowly to hear a voice. This voice spoke in a language he hadn't heard in lifetimes. It was a woman's voice, quiet and soothing. Damon then recognized it, the first voice he'd ever heard. The voice spoken in broken French and smiled when it's tones filled his ears. "Damon, my son. Oh, how I have missed you. My sweet, darling boy." With tears welling in his closed eyes, he dared to try to open them. Would he see her? Would he recognize her from the moments of his childhood? And then the light behind his eyelids dimmed, and he tried to open them, and there she was walking towards him, surrounded by shadows, Mary Salvatore, his mother.
As her imaged walked gracefully towards him, he began to feel her hands on his face. He leaned his cheek into her hand. Her love touched him, although she was not yet close to him. It was her love that sang the lullaby of his childhood. It was her love that brought him to her. He fell then, to his knees and sank with the weight of his life, the murder, the carelessness, all of his sins remembered. He could not look at his mother's figure now in front of him; the shame was desiccating.
"Rise to meet my eyes, Damon. Oh Damon, child of my eyes." She touched him again, and he rose. Now seeing her again in 169 years, he knew her immediately. Dark, black hair in rings framing her shoulder, blue eyes, like his, that stared into his own. She wore a gown of midnight blue that draped across her torso, slim at the waist, and full hoop skirts that shuffled the ground as she moved. She was grace itself and pure love. "Come with me, my son. I have waited so long to touch you again, my boy."
"Momma? You can not know who I was, what I became. I was a vampire-careless and cruel."
Damon's reply was short and full of shame. He could not meet her eyes. He kept thinking how disappointed she must be, how angry at her son she must feel. His eyes diverted to her skirt. She held out her hand, actually touching his face this time. She turned his eyes slowly to him, and closed her eyes. In that moment, the sadness and regret that was consuming him vanished. She pulled him to her, wrapped her graceful arms around him and caressed the back of his head. "You learned to love, my son. For your sacrifice, I am so proud of you." Damon had never heard those words in all of his years.
"Come with me, my son. I have words for you. Your time here is not long." She then took his hand and began walking. He couldn't tear his eyes from her beauty as they stolled, hand in hand. Then, light began transforming into swirls of color, under his feet, above his head, beside them both. As if imagination and memory filled in a blank canvas from their minds. His dress changed on his body without any sensation or time. Then the image of his mother's garden appeared before him. He looked then, away from his mother's eyes to see 1864 Virginia again surrounding them. "This is where I was happiest, with you and Stefan."
They stopped in twilight light with the aromas of her June garden swirling in tangible fragrances. The roses everywhere of red and white, interspersed among the grass and shade trees. It was warm, full, quiet. It was all that he remembered and remembered losing after her death. They sat on an iron bench and Damon reached again for her hand. Taking his and kissing it, She placed their grasps in her lap.
"Look to me, Damon. Listen. There are tales you do not know. You must now know them, my son. Know that I never stopped loving you or crying for you. Through your life, I could see your sadness and fear so strongly. I saw it all through your eyes. But I also, knew your strength of heart and sharp mind. Those were my gifts to you, that I hoped would guide you here. This was your destiny, my child. "
"I was meant to be a vampire?"
"No son, but it was the only way for you live long enough...for Elena."
As if understanding her without words, she replied, "Stefan brought her to you, my son." With a pause of endless time, she continued, "I know you don't understand this world, but know this. What makes it all, what keeps us in the light is love, dear, love. Love is the magic of our souls, and your love is the strongest will I have ever known. It sustains me."
"But I can't be with Elena now." Damon looked to the flowers beside him, he closed his eyes, seeing her face when he said goodbye.
"No, you can't. But you can protect her from such great evils as will seek her, Damon. Hate, futility, untruths, and regret. You can save Hope. You have been doing that for quite some time, dear."
"What evils, Momma? How?"
"There's not much time. You understand that Earthly realm beyond us now, is full of supernatural witches, who harness the powers of the Earth and bend them to their personal wills. The greatest of these is a witch who created an evil that you have known and do understand."
He thought a moment trying to seek the answer she asked of him. Epiphany. "Vampires? The Original Witch. "Is she not...beyond the veil? She died."
"Before the veil fell, she was reborn, along with her husband, Michael. He fell to Earth as well. Their choices threaten so many lives, young and old. Here and on Earth. Lives that need to be lived, not destroyed."
"What can I do, here? I can not reach Elena. What can I do?"
"Seek Klaus. He is the key, son. He is the key to defeating them forever. Take him on your journey." Reaching out to her side, she plucked a budding rose and smelled it. As she handed it to Damon, she then looked to their hands that began to fade. Damon followed her eyes and saw the light through her skin, as if she and he were becoming transparent. Panic in his eyes, he looked to her.
"Je t'aime, my boy."
And then, the roses faded, the light turned to night, and all was blackness.