Chapter Four


The Goddess and Damien Jr. set off. The Goddess took him from his father. He didn’t fight much, as he knew that he’d see him a lot. She grabbed him by the hand, as she did before, and pulled him through the portal. The sword turned ice cold as they walked through it.

“Damien,” The Goddess said. Damien nodded.

“Yes?” he knew what was coming. He had to be marked. He’d known that this was coming, and he had prepared himself as much as he could, but you could never really prepare yourself for…the mark.

“You know what I need to do…” She explained. Damien nodded, closed his eyes and held out his left had. The Goddess brought out a small pocket knife. It was a very simple knife; a wooden handle and a steel blade. She pressed the edge on Damien’s wrist, and sliced.

“Aah!” Damien screamed. The pain of the Dagger of Aldreth; a dagger which can only be used for initiation, was horrible. Though it only looked simple, the pain was always unbearable. Damien fell to the ground, groaning every now and then. Sweat beaded on his forehead and he clutched his wrist. It was no longer bleeding; it was now his mind being forced to think his wrist was on fire. There was no other way…

“I’m sorry, Damien! It’s the only way to fully activate your powers!” The Goddess explained guiltily.

“I-Aah! –it’s okay…” he grunted through clenched teeth. He rolled around, no longer making noises. After a while, he was unconscious.

The Goddess took him back to a small cottage on the outskirts of town. It looked very beautiful; a thatched roof, white walls and wooden beams going around the house in specific patters.


Damien woke up to the sound of a fire crackling. He was no longer in pain, but he was very uncomfortable. He looked at his wrist. No scar…

He looked toward the fire, suddenly alert when he heard it roar randomly. It was a blue fire, which could be for many reasons, like maybe salt in the wood. But he knew this was what had healed him.

“Are you okay now, Damien?” The Goddess said as she floated in with her medieval looking dress flowing behind her like a cloak.

“Yeah I’m fine now.” He got up, suddenly full of energy, and looked in the mirror. He was met with a pair of icy-blue eyes, framed with long thick eyelashes, surrounded by pale white skin.

“Where’s my cloak?” he said. The Goddess sighed and threw it at him. He caught it as it fluttered into his outstretched hand.

“Why do you insist on wearing that? You have such a handsome face.” The Goddess stated.

“I don’t know…mum.” Damien said sarcastically. The Goddess rolled her eyes. Damien brought his cloak around himself, and put the hood up, thus shrouding his face, yet again.

“We shall start at the witching hour.” The Goddess said. “That is when the…creatures are most likely to appear.”

“Okay. What is the time now?”

“We have a quarter of an hour. Get ready for the fight of your life. Remember what you learnt with your father. You shall need it. We will be fighting many creatures –vampires, ghosts, ghouls, goblins, boggarts, witches- the whole lot. And that will be all at once.” Damien was ready, he knew every spell and fighting skill he needed, and he’d trained for more than long enough.

The End

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