Not Part of the Job [ORIGINAL]

18. Dreams

"Mama, tell me another story about Alexander the Great."

Talia glanced down at her darling little boy, who was looking up at her in admiration. He was a perfect child and she loved everything about him. His face easily resembled his father, but his complexion was that of his mothers.

"Of course, my son," she said as she began to tell him the story as they sparred.

When she was finished, he wore a puzzled expression. She noticed this and lowered her bow staff. "What is wrong, habibi?" she questioned.

"Who is my father?" young Damian asked, peering up at his mother. Talia's eyes widened the slightest, but she kept her cool.

"He left us, do not worry about him," Talia assured him, then clashed staffs together with him again, "Now keep your staff up, you know better than to lower your defenses."

"I'm sorry," Damian quickly apologized and returned his mind to their training session.

Talia noticed that Damian was now saddened, and felt the slightest bit of guilt pull at her heart. However, despite this feeling, she knew she was doing the right thing. If he knew who his true father was, she was afraid he wouldn't want to be with her any longer.

"Okay, we can stop now," Talia spoke up and lowered her staff. She wiped sweat from her forehead. "You are getting better with every day that passes, my little one."

Damian smiled at her praise. "Thank you, mama," he said.

***

"No, Damian," Talia scolded, pulling at his small hand.

"But mother-" Damian pleaded, tears streaming down his face. He held an injured bird in his hands.

"I said no!" Talia repeated, "Emotions will get you nowhere. Do you understand me? We do not feel anything. Now leave it be. It's part of nature."

Damian silently obeyed her and left the injured animal behind. Those words stuck in his mind for the rest of his life.

***

"The victor does not hesitate before reaching the finish line," Talia informed, clashing wooden swords with her son as they trained.

Damian listened to her words, but didn't respond. He used every inch of muscle in him to match his mother in combat. That's what she wanted, after all.

With one sweep, Damian knocked his mother onto the ground, defeating her. This surprised the both of them.

"Yield, Mother," he ordered as he pointed his fake sword at her.

A grin made its way to Talia's face at this. "I'm proud of you, Damian."

He extended his hand out for her. She grabbed his hand and pulled herself up, then rested her hands on his shoulders and examined his face. It was as if she was looking at a teenage version of his father. But, his skin and eyes matched hers, and she loved that.

"You are the future, habibi," she told him, meeting his gaze.

***

The crowd cheered as Damian won the battle, killing one the League's strongest assassins. This was to test his true strength, and he passed.

"Damian was magnificent," Talia bragged, looking at her son in approval, "Every inch his father's son, and mine!"

Damian weakly fell into one of his mother's servants arms, blood trickling down his forehead. He was covered in cuts and bruises while his clothes were torn at every angle.