Hey Guys!
Sorry for a bit of a late post, I haven't been very well and slept for most of the day yesterday. Hope you enjoy!
DISCLAIMER: I do not own these characters/settings/events apart from the ones I have invented. They belong to Rick.
-12-
Ash
I readjusted Damien's leather breastplate, pulling it straight so it fell flat across his chest.
"Better?"
"Better."
Silence followed as we looked at each other.
"You ready?"
Damien shook his head, dark hair falling across his forehead. I tucked it back up into his cowl. He needed to look professional. Older. Mature. I took a big breath.
"Okay, I'm going to go get my seat. You got this."
Damien smiled nervously. He was really worried about this ceremony. Even after I reassured him a heap of times that nothing would go wrong. Damien's eyes went stony as he looked at something behind me. I turned. The headmaster, his father, was striding towards him. Damien's face conveyed his anger.
"Don't," I cautioned.
Damien pursed his lips, but his irritated look passed. The headmaster walked right up to us, casting a long shadow.
"Are you ready for the ceremony, Damien?"
He nodded, gaze now determined. Internally, I chuckled to myself. Nothing fueled Damien like spite for his father. The headmaster turned his gaze to me, and I raised my chin. He narrowed his eyes, but didn't comment. With a final once-over, the headmaster turned on his heel and began the walk back to the ceremony hall.
"I should really go."
I turned to leave but Damien caught my arm.
"What?"
"I just...nothing...its nothing."
He released my arm, looking embarrassed. I tilted my head at him.
"You got this, Damien. I'll be watching from the crowd, okay? I'll make sure I get a good spot."
Damien seemed to visibly pull himself together, shaking his head as if shooing away a thought. He gave me a small smile.
"I'll see you inside."
I smiled back at him, pleased to see his confidence returned. He was going to need it. I turned on my heel and made my way down the stone corridor, footsteps clacking. I slipped in through the double doors, making my way to the stairs that led to the top balcony, figuring that's where I would get the best view of the ceremony. I shoved my way through the crowd, taking some elbows and throwing some in return. Finally, with glares burning though the back of my skull, I made it to the railing. I leaned over as much as I dared, scanning for Damien. I saw him by the left side of the small stage with another boy I didn't recognise, both looking tiny in comparison to the large students coating the front row. I felt uneasiness stir inside me. They were a lot bigger than last year. The muttering in the room was silenced by the headmaster stepping forward, placing his hands on the podium.
"Students. Teachers. Today, as I'm sure you are aware, is the twelfth birthday of two of our students here."
I joined in with the cheers and banging that were echoing around the room. The headmaster allowed it to continue for a while, before raising his hands again for quiet.
"The first of these two that will be initiated is...Tyler Gasset!"
Responding to the whoops around the room, the other boy who I didn't recognise stood, walking over to where the headmaster was standing. He clasped a hand on the boys shoulder.
"Tyler Gasset. You are now twelve years of age. Do you accept your position in the institute?"
"Yes, headmaster!"
"Do you promise to uphold our morals and values?"
"Yes, headmaster!"
"Do you promise to strike quick and true?"
"Yes, headmaster!"
We all applauded him. He had responded properly like he had been drilled to. Now all he had to do was…
"Gasset. You have one challenge standing between you, and acceptance into the institute as a fully initiated student. Do you accept the challenge?"
"I do."
The headmaster gave a shrill whistle, and the first half of the students in the front row rose, drawing weapons. Tyler drew his own. They encircled him, pausing to give the students sitting nearby time to draw back. All eyes were on Mr Morgenstern.
"Begin."
Tyler took a defensive stance as the older students rushed him. I lost him in the fray for a couple seconds as metallic ringing filled the air. He came back into my view and I leaned forward with the rest of the crowd, trying to gauge how he was going. It looked like he was doing pretty well. He kept up with the older students, deflecting or dodging their incoming strikes. He was quick, I'd give him that. But slowly, the older students were pressing him back. One was sliced along the forearm and she cried out and dropped back, letting another take her place in the offensive. Tyler could use the numbers to his advantage; crowding them so they couldn't take a proper swing. That was what I had told Damien to do when we were training. But he didn't. Instead they slipped through his defenses, circling him. I pursed my lips, knowing what was coming. With a nod around the circle they began to attack in pairs, one from each side of the circle lunging forward. Tyler couldn't hold off two attacks from opposing directions. First it was a small nick on his upper right arm. Then a gash opened across his chest. Finally, one of the students drove their sword through Tyler's calf, driving him to the ground with a barely restrained scream. The older students all raised their swords, letting the tips rest on varied points across Tyler's body. They turned their gaze to the headmaster. He didn't look pleased.
"Tyler. You have lost."
Tyler was shaking, teeth cutting deep into his bottom lip with the effort not to cry out again. He didn't try to rise.
"Do you accept defeat?"
A tip of one of the students sword pierced Tyler's skin, reminding him of his position. He raised his head to meet the headmaster's eyes.
"I accept my defeat," he muttered, spitting a globule of blood into the stone floor, "do with me as you will."
I released a breath, feeling glad I wasn't in Tyler's shoes. From here, there were two options. Either Tyler was disgraced from the institute; cast out, status removed, never to contact us again. Or…
"Shall it be death?"
The headmaster appealed to the crowd, throwing his arms out wide. I didn't join in with the crowd's frenzied cheering. The headmaster tilted his head, seeming to gauge the noise levels. He made a fanning motion and the volume doubled. He turned back to Tyler. Smiled. Slowly he raised his hand, the crowds now sounding more like a mob. His hand slowly formed a thumbs up, and he showed it around to the crowd. Meeting eyes again with Tyler, he turned it upside down, sadistic smile playing across his upturned lips. Tyler started to yell, but it was lost in the screaming and hollering of the crowd. The older students drew back their weapons and, with a synchronicity I couldn't help but admire, drove their blades into Tyler's body. Blood splashed onto the cobbles as they withdrew, letting Tyler's body fall limp onto the ground. They raised their bloody weapons up to the crowd, looking horrifically happy with themselves. While the crowds fanned the hype, I looked away, feeling slightly sick. They were like animals. The designated body removers stepped forward, taking Tyler's body away. It left a smear of rose red blood on the tiles. No one bothered to clean it up. I looked over to Damien, who was pale. I tried to catch his eye, but he wasn't taking his gaze off the bloodstains. He looked like he was going to be sick. The headmaster raised his hands for silence and the blood-frenzied crowd complied. The room now hushed and all gazes on him, the headmaster turned to Damien.
"Our second and final student who is aiming to pass initiation today is Damien Morgenstern."
Spurred by the whooping of the audience, Damien stood.
...
"Damien Morgenstern. You are now twelve years of age. Do you accept your position in the institute?"
"Yes, headmaster!"
"Do you promise to uphold our morals and values?"
"Yes, headmaster!"
"Do you promise to strike quick and true?"
"Yes, headmaster!"
I cheered with everyone else, but it felt forced. In truth, I was worried for Damien, to the point where I almost didn't want to watch.
"Morgenstern. You have one challenge standing between you, and acceptance into the institute as a fully initiated student. Do you accept the challenge?"
"I do."
The headmaster let out another grating whistle. The other half of the front row stood, flexing and drawing their weapons. I felt the moisture flee my mouth. They were huge, so much bigger than the ones Tyler had to fight. The crowd seemed to have realised that as well, and there was some skeptical muttering in the crowd. The headmaster shushed them.
"Yes, these students are bigger," he told us firmly, "and, yes, there are more of them."
There were? I counted. He was right. There were fifteen of them. Tyler fought ten. What was the headmaster playing at?
"But, I have been informed that young Damien here is excelling in his fighting skills. And we don't want him to pass too easy, so we?"
The last bit was a shout and the crowd responded, questions clearly answered. Mine weren't. Damien's father turned and smiled cruelly at him. Was this some kind of test? Did he want Damien to get killed? Damien raised his chin, but I could see he was shook. We had only trained for ten students. Damien's eyes scanned the crowd, trying to find me. I wiggled my fingers so I was easier to see and his eyes met mine. They were filled the fear. I nodded at him, trying to pretend I wasn't scared for his life.
"Kick their ass, Damien!" I yelled, smiling and shaking my fists while my stomach was in turmoil.
Damien smirked and seemed to begin to regain his confidence. He lifted his sword and, with a wink in my direction, turned to face the older students. He took a fighting stance and they followed suit. Not a noise in the crowd as the headmaster regarded the fight about to take place.
"Begin."
With a yell, Damien charged forward.
...
The older students seemed taken back by his offensive move, having to quickly switch their stances to on the defence. Damien collided with the first students, blocking an attack and quickly disarming him. With a rapid strike to the students temple with his hilt, he had bested one student. Damien moved so that the unconscious body was between him and the other fourteen students. The other students seemed unfazed, either stepping over the downed fighter, or on him. Damien continued moving backwards, placing as little space between his back and the crowd as possible.
Smart.
He remembered our training and was trying to make sure that they couldn't sneak behind him and surround him. Damien bounced on his feet, loosening his arms. I darted my eyes over the older students, trying to figure out who would attack next. Suddenly, a burly Indian boy darted forward, followed by two of the other students. They formed a semicircle around Damien. Three against one? I felt my stomach drop. I was sure Damien could handle it but I couldn't help but worry. All it took was one slip up and the only friend I ever had could be reduced to a stain on the floor. I let out the breath I hadn't realised I was holding.
Damien had this under control.
I hoped.
As if to emphasise my point, he twirled his sword, raising an eyebrow at the three students. They charged forward, the one on Damien's left striking first, a broad sweep aimed at Damien's chest. Damien stepped into the attack, blocking the strike to his left and ending up directly in front of the student. He headbutted them fiercely, knocking them backwards and making blood spill from their nose. If he had done it right, it should be broken. Damien then jammed the hilt of his sword onto the guys wrist, shattering it instantly. He snatched up the sword and, with one in each hand, turned to face the other students. He deflected both their attacks with ease, pushing away their blades. Damien then ducked low, sweeping with both swords at the students' legs. One jumped but the other was no so quick, catching a slice along his Achilles tendon that made him bellow in pain. He went down and Damien faced the last student of the three. Before he could make a move, another handful of students dashed forward, attempting to rush him and catch him unawares. I could almost feel Damien roll his eyes as he stopped their advance quickly and efficiently; striking down the leading student and then twirling and knocking out the last student of the three that had attacked him before.
That left ten.
All of this took only seconds.
The students seemed to have realised that small groups were not working, and begun attacking as a uniformed body. Two or three would dart forward, swords outstretched, before quickly retreating back into the group. Damien needed to do something to change the tide.
"Switch it up, Damien! Put them on the back foot!"
It was almost as if he heard me. Before the next set of students could attack he took the sword that he'd taken off the downed student and threw it hard through the air. It embedded itself in the thigh of one of the leading students, making him scream, but Damien was already on the move. He leapt forward, ripping the sword out of the wounded student's thigh and driving it into the shoulder of another. Deflecting the incoming blows with his other arm, he kicked the student off his sword before moving quickly back to the edge of the crowd. They cheered wildly, fists in the air. I joined in a little. Only eight more to go. They were much more wary now, regarding Damien with a cautious eye. They seemed to be strategizing, trying to figure out how to defeat him. They couldn't seem to get a read on him; he kept darting around unexpectedly. Seconds ticked past without anyone making a move. Suddenly, Damien sprawled forward, sword flung from hand. Someone in the crowd had shoved him from behind. The older students were quick to pounce upon the opportunity. Three darted forward, intending to finish Damien off.
"Get up! Damien, get up!"
He didn't move. Had the fall knocked him unconscious? It seemed pretty far-fetched. The students came closer and closer, walking cautiously, clearing thinking along the same lines as me. Damien didn't so much as twitch. I felt my insides twist as they stopped over his body. With a glance at each other, they lowered their swords until they rested on Damien's skin. My heart skipped a couple beats. Could Damien lose?
Faster than my eyes could follow, one of the students standing over Damien went down. The crowd made a sound of shock as, from where he was lying on the ground, Damien jumped up, diverting the blades resting on his skin with a careful kick of his padded leg. He quickly connected a fist with a nose, halting the student before he could draw his sword. With a swift knee to the guts, that student toppled. Striking the first student in the head with his heel as he darted past, Damien faced off with the last of the three as the rest of the students started towards them. It was sword versus fists as Damien struck forward. He had to keep on his toes; dodging the blade before darting forward to pummel the student in the ribs. In less than three seconds Damien had knocked the student unconscious with a powerful roundhouse kick to the head. He stumbled back a touch as the last five students crowded him. If this was a fair match, he would have already won. Now he was on the defense, still weaponless, as the remaining students pressed home their advantage. Damien needed to regain his weapon. Seeing a break in the throng, Damien dove forward, landing in a forward roll and scooping his sword back into his hand. I couldn't help but roll my eyes as everyone around me cheered. It had taken him weeks to perfect that. Show off. The remaining five students formed a loose semicircle around Damien. He was nearing the dangerous numbers. He would be getting tired and now the students had some room to maneuver. Damien tried to send a strike to the student on the right, but was instead forced to jump back as the one of the left charged forward. They were catching on to his movements.
Without warning, a student darted forward, sword extended and aimed at Damien's heart. But Damien took it in his stride, blocking the blade and grabbing the student by his shirt. He drew him in close, the student's sword clattering on the cobbles. The crowd was silent as Damien placed the blade of his sword against the student's bared throat.
"Drop your weapons."
Damien's voice was a growl directed at the four students still standing. They glanced at each other, at the boy held hostage in Damien's arms. But they did not lower their weapons. Damien pressed the blade more firmly against the students neck, drawing a thin line of blood.
Still nothing.
A couple more seconds of staring. Then Damien turned his sword, driving it through the student's shoulder. He fell to the ground with a cry, hands already soaked in blood. Damien faced off against the last four. Blood patterned the front of his light armour. From here, I wasn't too worried. I had seen Damien defeat students in one versus four many times. He could do it. The four students rushed him, swords glimmering in the sunlight streaming in through the windows. The fighting was fast, almost too fast for me to keep up with. Damien parried a strike, twirling away from the incoming attack. A viper-like strike to a kneecap and another student was down.
That left three.
Damien snatched up an ownerless sword, sweat running in rivers down his face. He must be exhausted. The last three students cautiously moved forward. Damien stepped forward too, engaging with them, not letting them gain any advantage. He knocked one student aside, winded but not unconscious, and then took the legs out from under another. He drove his sword through the calf of the last, driving him to the ground. I noticed the winded student getting back up behind him.
"Damien, behind!"
Damien spun, but he wasn't fast enough to block the incoming attack. It sliced along his cheek, creating a thin wound that oozed blood down his face. Damien didn't cry out, knowing that any noise would be seen as cowardance. He instead slammed the pommel of this sword onto the back of the student's head, forcing him into unconsciousness. Damien turned to face the last student who had regained his feet. Blood dripped from a cut along the elbow of the student's arm but he held his sword determinedly. Damien would need to be careful; that determination could be dangerous. They circled each other warily, neither wanting to make the first strike and expose a weakness. Damien cast aside his second sword, gripping his original firmly in both hands. Evening the fight. Noble.
The opposing student only saw it as a weakness, and rushed forward. Damien parried his sloppy strike with an upwards motion, leaving the student's body unprotected. Damien drove his knee deep into the student's stomach and I could practically hear the wind pour out of his lungs. Damien then linked his hands around the back of the student's neck, once again sending his knee into the student's unguarded middle. The student slumped over, falling to the ground with a barely subdued groan.
Silence in the crowd.
Damien glanced around the arena, taking in the fifteen fallen students littering the floor. He turned his gaze to his father, whose eyes were thoughtful. The headmaster raised his arms.
"He has passed!"
The crowd went into a frenzy and I joined them. He had passed! The crowd surged forward and somehow Damien was raised onto their collective shoulders, his face was one of shock and exuberance. I began to make my way out the door, not sticking around for the celebrations. I would catch up with Damien later, like we had planned.
...
I lightly fingered the gauze layering the cut on his cheek.
"Ow."
"Sorry."
I turned back to the sunset, the roof's shingles firm beneath my legs. Damien looked outward too, an expression of relief on his face. I couldn't help but grin. He had passed initiation. All we needed now was for me to pass in a couple of weeks, and we would be on our first assignment. Damien seemed to be thinking along the same lines.
"You know Ash, if I had a different partner, I could be getting briefed on my first assignment by now."
I scoffed.
"Who else would want to work with you?"
Damien chuckled and we both lapsed into a comfortable silence.
"You fought really well," I remarked to fill the silence, "Where did all that confidence come from?"
Damien gave a little smile and I saw his ears go a little red.
"I...well I kinda just pretended I was you."
That explained the wink; it was my signature move. I felt something tickle my chest and felt my ears start to go pink too. Suddenly, I remembered something. I sat up quickly, reaching for my satchel.
"What are y-."
"Shh. You'll see."
I reached inside, fumbling around until I found what I was looking for. I pulled out the small container and handed it to Damien.
"Here."
He took it delicately from my outstretched hand.
"Happy Birthday, Damien."
A grin split his face as he tore into the wrapping. I felt excitement build up in my chest. Would he like it? It had cost me a fair bit of my allowance. Damien reached the small box concealed inside and opened the lid. He pulled out his present as I watched in anticipation. He held it up to the setting sun's rays.
It was a brooch. Stupid really. But I had seen it in the marketplace and it had just reminded me of him. So, I had bought it. It looked like a plain silver sword at first, but if you looked closer it actually had a word written over and over again in a Gallic font; Pugnator.
"What does it mean?"
"Fighter," I replied, "Pugnator is Latin for fighter. Do...do you like it? It's fine if you don't, I mean, it's pretty stupid, so-."
"Shut up, I love it."
Face screwed up in concentration, he pinned it to his shirt, just above his heart. He beamed at me.
"Best. Birthday. Ever."
I smiled back, glad he liked the gift. We both gazed back over the grounds. It was long after dark before we both climbed back down, having filled the time talking about nothing and everything. I missed it; just chatting with him. We made our way down the hallways, Damien escorting me to my dorm after much insistence on his behalf. Eventually, the large wooden door appeared at the end of the corridor.
"Guess this is good night."
I could tell from his tone that he didn't really want to go either. We stood awkwardly outside the door before I decided to do something risky. I darted forward, placing a quick kiss on his cheek.
"Night Damien!" I called as I hurried inside the dorm, my cheeks alarmingly red.
Lucky I closed the door when I did, otherwise I would have seen Damien's go the exact same colour.
Hope you enjoyed! If you have any requests/recommendations/issues/general comments, don't be afraid to chuck them in a review, as long as they're constructive criticism and not flames. Next chapter will be posted in 8 days, and if you have any questions, feel free to PM me.
Peace out - excusemewhileiasdfghjkl