The Promise Part II

The end of the school day led Damian along his usual route to the weapons master's shop.

"Hey, Uncle Mad!"

The ringing of hammer against steel, the glow of the forge, Maddox's huge arms, bald head, the scar running across his left cheek, and his brazen laugh—everything fascinated Damian about his favorite place in the world.

"How was school, boy? Did you learn anything new?"

"A warrior needs to know numbers, Uncle Mad," Damian replied seriously.

"Of course they do. You need to count the enemies before you swing your sword."

Maddox's attention never left the sword's edge as he delivered one furious swing, sending blue flames erupting across the blade.

"Woah!"

Damian's mouth fell open. He wandered over to a nearby rack of shields, running his fingers across their worn surfaces before glancing back at the blazing sword.

"Uncle Mad, Dad's making casserole today. Do stop by!"

And with that, he was gone.

A necessary stop on the way home was the coliseum, where Damian was joined once again by Kyle and Cody. The three slipped through the back entrance and climbed onto a lone wooden stool to peer through a tiny hole in the wall.

"Oh! A flaming sword!" Cody exclaimed, flashing a grin that revealed several missing front teeth.

"Yeah..." Damian and Kyle sighed in unison.

"Hit him! Hit him! Come on!"

"He was right there!"

"Be careful! No, he's right behind you!"

"Scoot over, Cody! Let me see!"

"Damian! What's happening?"

Being the tallest, Damian enjoyed an uninterrupted view. The flexing of massive muscles, sweat dripping onto the arena floor, the deafening clash of steel, and the thunderous roars of the warriors held him spellbound.

Then came a familiar growl behind them.

The boys remembered the dangerous dog they had run from earlier, and the color drained from Cody's face.

"Can we get caught after the next fight?" Damian whispered.

Gunther, the groundskeeper, stood over them with his arms folded, a vein throbbing on his forehead.

"You sneaky vermin. How many times have I told you? No entering the training hall."

Before any of them could react, Gunther grabbed Damian by the collar and hurled him through the doorway.

Thud.

Kyle was next.

Thud.

Then Cody.

Thud.

Gunther glared down at the three boys sprawled across the ground.

"The next time I catch you sneaking into my training hall, you'll be scrubbing the floors for a month. Now get lost."

He slammed the heavy wooden door shut.

Damian slowly sat up and rubbed the back of his head, a grin spreading across his face.

"That was awesome. Let's come back tomorrow."

Kyle and Cody were still reeling from the aftermath. Cody stared at Damian as though he had completely lost his mind.

"You're insane."

The three boys dusted themselves off and ran out the door. Damian caught a fleeting sight of Maddox talking to one of the warriors near the exit before hurrying after his friends.

Damian's arrival was announced long before he reached the bakery, where a weathered stone statue of a legendary warrior stood outside with its sword raised high.

"You want a fight?" Damian pointed Brightfang at the statue. "I'll give you a fight!"

"Damian, come inside. Your dad's waiting," Gemma called.

"Hi, Dad! Hey, Aunt Gemma!"

Stefan immediately scanned him from head to toe, checking for the usual cuts and bruises Damian seemed to collect wherever he went.

"I'm starving!" Damian announced.

"Aren't you always?" Gemma teased, placing a steaming bowl of stew in front of him.

"Did Master Ronald pick up his bagels?" Damian asked.

"Finish your food first, soldier," Stefan said with a smile, nodding toward the register. "Then see for yourself."

After polishing off every last spoonful, Damian hurried over to check the day's orders.

He paused beside the counter where floating measuring cups added precise amounts of yeast, milk, and oil to separate heaps of flour, while a balloon whisk whipped cream into frosting under Gemma's watchful eye.

"Dad, don't forget. You'll need to bake the multiseed buns too, and the banana muffins tomorrow. They're a special request from Mr. Watson."

Stefan looked up from the register and smiled.

"Already looking after the bakery, are you?"

"Nope. After you, Dad."

Damian flashed a grin before racing upstairs.

Maddox's arrival aligned with the bakery's closing time. As usual, he and Stefan fell into conversation, discussing weapons, politics, and business over drinks and a meal.

"The frontier army is recruiting again," Maddox said. "The demand for weapons is increasing—shields and swords especially."

Meanwhile, Damian had already disappeared into his room. The muffled voices of the adults faded into the background as he picked up Brightfang and carefully practiced the same sword movements he had watched the warriors perform in the coliseum.

Again and again, he repeated each swing, even attempting Maddox's powerful strike, until he was finally satisfied.

He sat on the edge of his bed, examining the tiny wooden sword in his hands.

"One day, I'll cover you in purple flames, Brightfang."

A determined smile crossed his face.

"And that's a promise."

Exhaustion finally caught up with him, and he climbed into bed, Brightfang still clutched tightly in his hand as he fell fast asleep.

Hours later, Damian awoke with the uneasy feeling that someone was watching him.

A hooded figure stood upon the adjacent rooftop, peering through the open window.

In one hand, it held an axe engulfed in red flames.

For a split second, Damian forgot all about imaginary villains.

He blinked hard to clear his vision.

The figure vanished into the shadows, leaving only the faint scent of ozone hanging in the air.

Half asleep, Damian's hands fumbled anxiously across the mattress until his fingers brushed against Brightfang.

Finding it, he refused to let go. He held the wooden hilt tight against his chest and stared into the empty dark for a long time before finally drifting back to sleep.