In the years that passed, Issa watched the struggling family. When he sensed they were in danger, he would descreetly take care of the offender. Issa grew, as all boys do, and became tall and muscular. Much more so than any man his age in the Pit.
It was hard to keep track of the years, even by counting winters, though Issa deemed himself twenty years old now. He trained his body constantly, and no prisoner dared cross him, lest he snap thier neck.
He had become widely known throughout the prison as 'Bane'. The first time he had heard the name, he had been almost surprised. He only killed when he thought necessary, and never initiated any fights that he didn't need to. But Talia was nearing what he thought must be five, and her mother was growing weaker by the day. The doctor was making constant trips into the shared cell, the prisoners eyeing the mother the whole time.
Issa was down fetching water when he heard the screams. At first it was just the woman, but as soon as the child realized what was going on, her cries of terror were added to the cacophony. Issa had never ran so fast in his life. Sheer terror for the child swept through him like a tornado as he sprinted the distance to the cell.
A group of men already had the mother, and were in the process of unclothing her. Talia was doing everything in her power to protect her mother, which at the feeble age of five was not much. Until she pulled out a knife. Issa watched, clamouring through the watching crowd, as the young girl got in one good stab to the prisoner's back.
As the man turned to grab the child, Issa broke through the crowd, and slammed his fist against the man's nose. Issa had no time to register the crack oh his hand against the inmate's face, nor the splitting pain in his surely broken hand, as he swept the young child off her feet and ran with her as far as he could away from the screams of the girl's mother.
"Where's my mommy? Where is she? What are they going to do to her? I want my mommy back!" Talia cried against Issa's shoulder. How could he possibly explain to this child that hermother was being viciously raped and killed? He couldn't. He could not bring himself to tell the child the harsh reality of her situation. No. He was her protector now, her guardian, and he would sheild her from the evil of the Pit for as long as he could.
"Shh. It's okay. I'm here. You're alright," He stroked the child's hair with the hand that was not throbbing in pain. He needed to move her somewhere safer than the half wall they were leaning against. "I'm going to take you back to my cell, and you are going to stay with me, alright?" Talia nodded, taking a tighter hold around his neck as Issa crept back to his cell, closing and locking the door behind them.
Setting Talia down on his bed, he removed a small roll of gauze from his pillowcase and began wrapping his hand with it.
"I'm sorry." Talia's quiet voice came from the cot they would now have to share.
"For what?"
"It's my fault you broke your hand."
Issa knelt down beside the small girl, and cupped her tiny face in his much larger hands. "I broke my hand because I had to protect you, don't be sorry for it little one." She did not look overly pleased with the answer she was given, but opted for changing the subject.
"You watch Mommy and I a lot, don't you?"
"Yes," he said, pulling away to finish the bandaging on his hand. "I have watched you since you were born."
"Why?"
"I needed to." Did all children ask this many questions, Issa wondered to himself.
"So then you already know who I am." She was unrelenting in her interrogation.
"Yes, Talia, I know who you are." There was a faint smile on his face, hidden by the cloth that covered his mouth.
"What's your name then?"
"They call me...Bane."