Damian

"I'm damn starving…" said Damian as he sat up in bed.

Damian climbed down the stairs and headed to the washroom to splash water on his face. As he washed his hands and feet, a warm scent made his stomach growl—it was freshly baked apple pie, his favorite dessert.

Good morning, Mom!

Good morning, Damian, my handsome boy! Aláni replied, embracing him.

Mom, stop with the hugs, I'm not a kid anymore.

As long as you live under my roof, you're still my little boy.

Okay, I understand… but can we stop the hugging now? Damian asked, nearly suffocated.

Oh! Right, sorry!

It's okay…

Forgive me, sweetie.

Mom, where are Mimi and Nana?

They're still sleeping—they stayed up late playing last night.

When I got home from work, I found them napping together like cute little kittens.

…

I made your favorite pie today just for…

Mom, how much longer do you plan on staying at that job?

Damian, let's not start that conversation again.

But Mom, I'm worried about you. Look at yourself—you're barely holding up. I don't know what that job's doing to you.

If it's too much, I can take it over for a few weeks. Once you feel better, you could…

No!!

Damian, I'd rather suffer myself than let my children work for me.

But…

Suddenly, someone knocked at the door.

I'll get it.

Damian opened the door. It was Hundred, here to fetch his friend for training.

Hey buddy!

Hundred—always punctual, huh.

Sorry for dropping by so early, but things at home are chaos, said Hundred.

Good morning, Aunt Alana!

Hundred, how are you? You haven't come by in ages.

I've been busy practicing swordplay—but I always make time for Aunt Alana's incomparable pies.

Hundred… they're not that amazing.

They are amazing!

I just made an apple pie—come eat with us.

It'd be an honor, Aunt.

After they finished eating, the boys suited up and said goodbye to Damian's mother.

A year had passed since Damian and Hundred began training to become knights.

Every morning, they'd head straight to an open field near Damian's house. First they'd race across the field, then stretch and do push-ups.

They used straw-and-wood dummies for training. Damian would practice archery—shooting small bursts of wind—and Hundred practiced simple sword strikes with a wooden sword he'd made.

After a year and a half of training, they saw real progress in strength and stamina—but Hundred felt frustrated, like he wasn't improving in anything else.

I'm exhausted… I can't take this anymore, he panted.

You tired already, Hundred? Damian asked, walking over.

Training with a sword sucks. I try mimicking the moves in my father's books. They look similar to the illustrations, but it still feels like something's missing.

Maybe it's because you haven't had a real opponent yet. Let's find someone who knows fencing to spar with you.

That sounds smart.

But let's do that tomorrow. I'm heading home early—I don't feel so well.

Okay. You don't look great. Better get some rest.

Hope you feel better. I'll stay and practice a bit more.

See you tomorrow.

Damian continued target practice, conjuring more gusts of wind. His physical training improved his mana endurance—he could wield magic longer without getting tired.

Then he wondered: "What if I controlled the wind more intensely?"

He concentrated harder. The wind began spinning fiercely around him. His heart raced at what he'd achieved.

A small whirlwind formed. It quickly dissolved, scattering dust and straw in all directions. The only sound left was his empty stomach, growling.

Am I that hungry already? It's only been three hours since I ate! Better clean up and head home.

After packing up, he headed home—unaware he was being watched.

Damian lived in the noble section of District 14, which was quiet and peaceful, yet slightly isolated. He was calm, loved food, a bit lazy—but always willing to help when needed.

Hey Damian!

I'm good, Aunt Zyla.

Are you heading home from training? You look early today.

Hundred wasn't feeling well, so he went back.

Here—apples and oranges. Your mother would love to bake something with these.

Thanks, Aunt Zyla! My mom will love it.

Be safe going home.

I will.

Damian's father, Wellys, had been a revered knight known for his justice. He often helped people without expecting anything in return—earning respect and gratitude from many.

Even after Wellys passed away, people felt indebted. They still go out of their way to support his family.

Hey kid!

Uncle Jonas!

Back from training again?

Yes…

I baked some fresh cakes for you and your sisters.

Thanks, Uncle!

You're welcome—enjoy them.

And find a girlfriend already—you're getting big.

Ha! Haha—I'll see about that!

Many people showed genuine concern for Damian's family. But sometimes, when Damian walked alone, he could hear whispers about him—soft voices talking from a distance.

They treated him like a poor orphan. It made him angry—but there was nothing he could do except walk on and pretend he didn't hear.

Whispers... "That's Salazar's son… the witch's child...""After his dad died, his mom started using drugs and sleeping with random men.""Oh no… she was such a nice woman. What happened?""You can't judge by appearances."Whisper... "Poor kid, lost his father—and look at his mom now."

Damian was tired of hearing rumors every day. But there was little he could do—he just pretended he couldn't hear anything.

When he reached home, he saw Mimi and Nana playing in the garden. A small smile crossed his face watching them enjoy themselves.

Their house was spacious. With their father earning well, they had lived comfortably and bought things normally considered luxuries: clothes, furniture, utensils—the works.

But since his father's death, those things were now just decoration—food was scarce.

Damian!! called Nana.

You're back!! Mimi said, hugging him.

Hello Nana, hello Mimi—how was your day?

It was great! Mimi and I played a lot. Mom made cake for us and…

Okay, okay—I got it. Sounds like you had fun.

Nana…

Yes?!

Where's Mom?

She's inside.

After baking, she said she was too tired and needed to sleep.

Damian, we're hungry. We haven't eaten lunch yet, said Mimi timidly, stomach rumbling.

Oh! I almost forgot—Aunt Zyla and Uncle Jonas brought us cakes and fruit.

Let's go inside—come on!

Yes!! the sisters cried in unison.

They went inside and ate the cakes. Damian still thought about the new technique he'd learned and how to refine it into a powerful combat skill.

He spent the rest of the day studying ways to make the whirlwind last longer without exhausting himself. By midnight, he figured out how to leverage this new power.

Tomorrow I'll show Hundred. He won't believe it.

Boom!!!

What?

Boom!!!

What the hell is going on? Damian said as he left his room.

Damian, someone's trying to get in—they're kicking the door.

Mimi! Nana! Go hide in the attic—I'm checking.

Mom's gone downstairs to see who it is.

Damian, we're scared.

No! You two get upstairs right now!

Damian descended slowly. His mother was talking with the intruders—one man was seated, the other holding her hands.

It's been a while since we last met—you were Daddy's little girl. Look at you now—you've fallen so far.

Can I call you Aláni?

That's fine, Connor. Who sent you? Salazar? He wants you back?

Aláni, calm down. We're not here for you. Salazar wouldn't care about a powerless old crown like you.

We're here for one of your children—the boy with the white hair.

What's his name? Damian, right?

What do you want with him? If either of you so much as touches a hair on his head, I'll kill you, you sons of bitches.

Ha! Ha! Ha! Hear that, Tiodor? She thinks she has a say here—how amusing.

Aláni, we're going to kill you right now and take the boy with us.

Salazar will pay handsomely for him—he inherited your magical abilities.

We were at a tavern, of all places, and we saw a boy out in the middle of nowhere wielding elemental magic.

We followed him home and waited until night.

And to our surprise, your son is your child—your little magician baby. We're finally getting rich.

Wanna say your last words? Or have one last coffee?

If I were you, I'd pick the coffee.

Fuck you both!! Last words then—

Just as they moved toward his mother, Damian leapt from hiding and unleashed a violent gust of wind at Connor, sending him crashing against the wall.