Fight or Flight? : A Damian Wayne Book

>Chapter 15<

Readers, thank you so much for all the reads! As a thank you, here's more Damian...

Damian growled as he slammed his katana's blade down upon the head of another assassin, knocking the other man out. When the man fell unconscious, the young assassin raised his katana, ready to strike, and threw it into the man's shoulder forcefully, causing a trail of blood to emerge from the wound. Standing nearby was Talia, her face stern and her body poised. Damian turned to her, as she said, "Well done, Damian. I see you have not let your father's ways distract you from your true purpose. He may believe in a harmless, unwounded victory, but you and I know very well that is not always the case. It is better to kill, however, than to wait for the enemy to strike." Damian frowned, then pulled the katana from the man's shoulder, and walked briskly away, without a word. He entered the temple, and went straight to his quarters, throwing his bloodied katana onto the bed that he had. He took a seat in the chair that occupied a corner, and said, "I belong here, not in Gotham with that bloodless fool of a father." Quietly, he removed the armor he was wearing from his body, and set it aside, then left the room, and headed to the place where the Lazarus Pit was. 

The dark room was merely lit by the pool of water in the middle, but Damian didn't care, as he entered in silence. He came to the edge, and looked in, and said, "Our victory is near, Grandfather. Our plans for the League are coming as quickly as we had desired. If only you were here to reap the benefits of the overrule. Mother does well, and keeps the ways, as you did." With no response to his words, Damian knelt at the edge, and stared at his face in the water. From the water's reflection, the young assassin noticed a cut on his cheek, that he hadn't felt at all, during the heat of battle. It didn't matter to him, that he had gotten a cut, as it would become a scar, like the rest had. Despite being the League's youngest assassin and the best, Damian still had his scars. 

Standing up, the teen left the room, and walked up the winding stairs, to the level the temple was on. Seeing the light of day, Damian entered back into the temple, and immediately walked out into the open courtyard, where his mother was watching the assassins working in sync, like clockwork. He walked over to her, his arms crossed, and stared at the other assassins. Talia noticed the stare of her son, and asked, "What do you see wrong with them, Damian?" She wanted to make sure he was trained to lead the League when his time came, as his grandfather had wished. The teen looked around, and muttered, "Assassin on the third row, right side is not being as silent as he should. He steps too heavily, and relies much on his weapon, and not his intelligence." Talia smiled proudly, and answered, "Well done. Your grandfather was right. This is your birthright. You belong here." She then instructed the assassin who had been doing things wrong, to come over. He did so, and stopped in front of her and Damian. Talia looked down at the young teen, and said coldly, "Teach him how things should be done." Damian looking into his mother's eyes, and saw the glint that meant for him to kill the assassin. The young teen looked at him, and glared harshly, then stretched his leg out, spun, and knocked the unworthy assassin onto the stone ground with a clunk. As the assassin fell, he was completely stunned silent, his katana dropped from his belt, and Damian grabbed it before it hit the ground. He gritted his teeth, and smoothly shoved the weapon into the assassin's abdomen. 

Damian removed the katana from the assassin's abdomen, and threw it to the ground, then folded his arms crossly, his emerald eyes blazing like fire as he watched the man he killed, stare at him through his black mask. The man mumbled, and whispered, his breaths heaving and slow, "Ra al Ghul... Master...", then closed his eyes, as the young teen put his foot on his chest roughly, and added pressure, making the killing even more painful. Damian's fierce green eyes, were the last thing the assassin saw, before Death came, and took him to meet his maker. Talia bent over the body, and checked for signs of life, to be sure he was dead. When Talia was sure the assassin was dead, she stood up, and walked away. Damian followed silently, then went back to his room. He sat on his cot his legs crossed, and reached into the bag he had brought along, pulling out The Odyssey, from his father's library. Since he had already read it and finished it, Damian turned to the page had bookmarked, when he had come across it. It was at the very end, after the killings Odysseus had done to the different men who were trying to make his wife love them. The words he found himself staring at were a personal driving force, and they reminded Damian of his mother's words, and his grandfather's words as well, before any fight, as it said:

"Telemakhos, you are going into battle against pikemen where hearts of men are tried. I count on you to bring no shame upon your forefathers. In fighting power, we have excelled  this lot, in every generation." -(translated by Robert Fitzgerald)

To Damian, shame was not an option. He had to uphold what was clearly his in the first place. He said, saying with surety and promise, as soon as his eyes landed on the final word, "No shame upon my forefathers... Grandfather, I will lead the League of Assassins, and no one will get in my path. I will never return to Gotham. My place is here, and it is final. Let me promise you that." Closing the book, Damian placed it under his pillow, and went over to where his katana was still covered in the blood of the assassin he had first killed on his return. He took the katana outside, and watched as a small amount of snow fell over the temple and over the ground. Damian smirked, then began to wield the katana, and became engaged in an already ongoing swordfight, with two others, all his thoughts and memories of Gotham being pushed into the back crevices of his intellectual mind.

All credits for the script from The Odyssey, is Homer's, and was translated by Robert Fitzgerald. I am giving credit, because it was an excellent script, and it related so much to this book, and to Damian in general. Please consider voting and commenting, if you enjoyed.