In the serene village of Brindlemark, a curious and adventurous Damian feels trapped in a life of comfort and predictability. Despite his father's warnings and concerns based on his own experience, Damian desire to explore the world beyond their vil...
"Wait a minute!" Damian shouted, emerging from his hiding place and cautiously approaching the armory. Even the nearby Darkwraths seemed taken aback by his sudden appearance, their aggressive postures a testament to their surprise. Old Thom's attention snapped from Fela to Damian, and he swiftly signaled the Darkwraths to hold their attack. Fela's face lit up with relief at the sight of his son, but his expression was quickly tempered by the dire circumstances.
"Damian, you're still alive," Old Thom said, his voice tinged with disappointment. "Well, that's nice. Now I get to kill both the father and son together."
Damian stood tall, acknowledging his father's presence. "My father and I aren't going to die today," he declared, his eyes locked on Old Thom.
Old Thom raised an eyebrow, his gaze flicking around the room filled with Darkwraths. "And what gives you such confidence?" he sneered.
"I had a dream," Damian said, his eyes locked on Old Thom.
"A dream?" Old Thom scoffed. "Yes! And in that dream, I was told I'd leave this village and venture into the outside world. So, I must be alive to fulfill that dream."
Old Thom burst into laughter. "You silly boy, that's what gives you confidence?" He laughed even harder, clearly amused.
In a flash, Old Thom closed the distance between him and Damian, his movements swift and menacing. He grasped Damian's neck, lifting him off the ground. Damian's pained cries filled the air as Old Thom's grip tightened.
Fela shouted, "No!!" and took a step forward, rage burning in his eyes. Old Thom's gaze snapped to him, a twisted grin spreading across his face.
"Take one more step, and I'll crush his neck," Old Thom warned, his grip on Damian's neck increasing.
Damian's cries of pain grew louder, and Fela froze, his eyes fixed on his son's struggling form.
"Good boy," Old Thom said, slightly easing his grip on Damian's neck.
Old Thom's gaze bore into Damian's. "I can kill you right now, and no one can stop me - not you, your father, or your precious dream."
Damian strained to speak, his voice barely above a whisper. "That dream is a manifestation of my will, and I choose to believe in it."
Old Thom sneered. "So, you choose to believe in fate over reality?"
Damian's eyes locked onto Old Thom's. "Yes, and I also believe there's still good in you, somewhere."
Old Thom's expression twisted in annoyance. With the hand still grasping Damian's neck, he hurled him towards a nearby weapon shelf. The sound of clattering metal echoed through the room.
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"I've told you, you know nothing about me!" Old Thom spat.
Fela's rage intensified as he shouted, "Old Thom, I'll kill you!" He lunged forward.
