The Disappointment.
Based on a post I read a while ago... I can't remember for the life of me who wrote it, but if any of you do, let me know. | Master Post | Next (to be written)
"This way," Mother hissed, snatching Danny's wrist tightly. He huffed in frustration, but silently sped up without a word of complaint. After a few seconds, she dropped his wrist and pushed a door open, waving them through. Her face was set in a frown, her lips pressed tightly together.
This was serious, more so than he had previously thought.
Damian lagged, twisting his head this way and that, keeping an eye out for anyone following them. Catching his eyes, Danny tilted his head forward, warning him to keep up. Damian moved closer, a tight grip on his knife, but his eyes still jumped to any shadow that so much as moved.
"Quickly now, Habibi, we must hurry." She warns again, her eyes darting just like Damian's, if not more so.
Danny eyed the small nicks and scratches she was following. They blended in with all the other wear and tear on the stone walls, but they were fresh. Someone would spot them and figure it out; it was only a matter of time.
Danny glanced back at his brother, holding out the katana he had shoved into Danny's arms just ten minutes ago. Damian scowled and defiantly lifted his head in answer, pretending that he was comfortable with just his knife.
His baby brother would rather die than allow anyone to see him act human, it seemed. Placing the katana back, Danny tossed him another knife. Damian caught it with a scoff, but his white knuckle grip fooled no one.
Rolling his eyes, Danny glanced back at the path just in time to silently observe as Mother took down another guard, shoving their body out the window to prevent anyone from noticing too soon.
Anyone who got in their way was killed without hesitation or remorse.
As he watched another body hit the floor, he recalled Grandfather's words from earlier. "Bring the disappointment to me after sundown. I've seen enough." He had said it just as the three of them had gotten up to leave, the door literally closing right behind them. Danny hadn't even registered what he heard until after taking three steps.
Grandfather hadn't even tried to hide what he intended; he had wanted them to hear.
He wanted to see if they would try anything; try hiding, running, or maybe even killing him.
It was a test.
And they would fail it no matter what they did.
There was nowhere in the world they could hide that Grandfather wouldn't follow. They would be hunted for the rest of their short lives, hiding and running in fear like cowards.
Grandfather would not rest until he drew blood.
"In here, Habibi, quiet now. Quickly, both of you." Mother ordered, darting across the hall to open another secret door. She stepped in, checking to make sure it was empty.
Danny moved to the side, signaling to Damian that he would keep watch this time. His brother nodded his head, quickly making his way over and ducking into the small, dark, and eerie corridor.
Mother crouched next to Damian, running her hands over his face like this would be the last time she would see it. Knowing her, she probably expected it to be.
No one went against their grandfather without severe consequences.
Glancing over his shoulder, Danny studied the shadows; there was a patrol moving closer, which meant they only had a minute or two before they were discovered. No doubt they had noticed the absence of the other guards; they would be on the lookout for anything suspicious.
Making up his mind and gritting his teeth, Danny darted across the hall, but instead of joining his mother and brother in the dark corridor, he pushed the wall back, leaving only the missing brick his mother had initially taken out.
"Danyal!" his mother hissed, her voice full of stern panic.
"Apologies, Mother, but I can not let you do this," Danny replied, glancing to the side to see how much time he had left. Sixty seconds. Crouching down, he picked up the brick and looked back at his mother. Her kurti was splattered in blood, pieces of hair falling out from under her chunni.
Damian stood next to her, his brows furrowed in confusion. It was obvious he hadn't figured out Danny's plan; otherwise, he would have started shouting at him.
Mother stared at him for a second, her stern eyes wavering for the first time in Danny's life that he could remember.
"Take care of him for me, keep him safe when I can not," Danny requests, grabbing the hood hanging around the back of his neck.
Mother's eyes teared up, but she straightened her back, more of her black hair framing her pretty face. "You've made up your mind then," she said, her voice low and steady. She rested her hand on Damian's shoulder, giving Danny a nod of understanding.
"You are like your father; his love makes him weak." Damian narrowed his eyes, his eyes flicking between them, his mind trying to connect the dots.
"But," she continued, her voice breaking from her emotions as she kneeled in a bow, "You are of the demon's blood, it runs in your veins just like mine. Your actions will not be forgotten, nor will they be for nothing. You have my word, Tifl al qamar. I love you, Habibi."
Danny nodded his head, unable to voice the thoughts clogging his throat. Instead, he took a silent breath, pulled his hood and mask into place, and shoved the final brick into place. Sealing off his precious family just in time to hear the guards around the corner.
Turning around, Danny silently stalked forward, drawing his shoulders back. The group rounded the corner and stopped, watching him in anticipation. Pitching his voice just slightly to the left and rolling his tongue, Danny spoke in a neutral voice, "Take me to Grandfather."
The two guards in front shared a look, but the ones in the back straightened up and moved aside. Marching forward, Danny passed the two hesitating guards and, with a quick slice, brought them to their knees. He needed this to work; there was no room for mercy, no matter how much he hated it.
"I am the grandson of the demon head; you will respect me as you respect him. There will be no next time," Danny continued walking, pretending not to care if the two managed to follow or not. The remaining guards trailed behind him, silently observing him.
It made him glad Mother had insisted on them matching today. Otherwise, his plan wouldn't have had a chance of working.
As they walked, Danny made sure to use as many little quirks and habits as he could, trying to keep them from figuring it out.
The first guard held his hand to the side, signaling he would head in first. The others left, leaving Danny to stop and stand in front of the painted carved wood that was Grandfather's door.
He studied the carvings and statues around the grand hall as he waited. He remembered all the stories of how his grandfather had collected them over his lifetime; grand stories of bloodshed and cunning manipulation.
His eyes settled on the one farthest away, with the least interesting story. It could be considered ordinary, placed next to art worth billions. But it was Danny's favorite. It was a simple green crystal, carved like a crescent moon.
So simple, yet the most beautiful piece in Danny's opinion.
Danny glanced back at the door. He could hear the low voices from within; it seemed he still had a moment to prepare.
He had always hoped he would die beneath the stars and his ever-faithful friend the Moon. Maybe, instead of beneath them, he could die amongst them.
He would take it with him, he decided.
Turning sharply, Danny marched over to the small pedestal and plucked the crystal into his hand. It was cold to the touch, smooth like glass. Wrapping his fingers around it, he shoved it into a side pocket and returned to his position.
He only had to wait for another minute before the door opened, Grandfather's servants clearing a path for Danny to walk through.
"I see your mother did not drag you away," Grandfather mused, sitting in his large chair. His dark eyes studied Danny's form, taking in the katana on his back, and the hood and mask concealing his face. He was dressed like he would for a mission; no discernible features, no sign of who he was or wasn't.
The perfect image of an assassin.
The perfect disguise.
"At least you aren't a coward," Grandfather hummed, standing from his seat. He slowly pulled out his own katana, aiming it at Danny in a challenge.
"No, just disappointing. But you are my blood, and that earns you the right to die an honorable death. Draw your sword, child, and fight like the warrior you're supposed to be."
Danny bowed like he had been taught, then, without another moment of hesitation, drew his sword and lunged.
He wished he could say it was a drawn-out battle of strength and minds, but it was not. Danny was only ten years old, and his grandfather had hundreds of years of training and discipline behind him.
He gazed up at his grandfather as his knees hit the ground, his katana dropping to the ground as his hand reached up to the sword impaling his chest. Grandfather's eyes were filled with nothing but contempt, contempt for the useless boy he had just sentenced to death.
But his contempt did not bother Danny; no, instead, it drew a smile to his face. As much as Grandfather lorded his sharp mind over them, he had never been able to stop Danny from surprising him. So, with a burst of adrenaline, Danny allowed the small shuriken he hid in his sleeve to drop to his left hand and buried it deep into his grandfather's chest.
Grandfather lunged back, pulling his katana with him, removing the only thing keeping Danny upright. Danny's body hit the ground, and with the last of his strength, he twisted his head so he could listen and watch as his Grandfather cried out in anger.
Grandfather's breath was heavy, the sound of him removing the dagger filling the silence. The shuriken was dropped to the ground with a sharp clatter, falling just a few feet from Danny's face.
"You," Grandfather huffed, "aren't such a disappointment after all. I'll grant you one last honor and keep you in the family tomb. Rest now, Damian, you have fought well."
Danny smiled, the cold feeling of blood loss crawling through his body, but not fast enough to block out the sharp cold of the moon crystal still in his pocket. He hoped Mother had gotten Damian out in time, and he hoped Damian could forgive him for what he had done.
