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* Chapter 4 <> Past of pain, future of fortune *
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"Fight you little worm."

The boy stood still, his large midnight blue eyes shaded slightly by his
dark black hair.  In his hand he held a practice sword, although the boy
could never understand why they called the stick that.  Several cuts lined
his face and it was obvious he had been well worked.

"I said fight!"

The man yelling stepped forward and backhanded the boy across the face,
sending the child falling to the ground.  The boy got up quickly, a small
welt rising where he had been struck.  But he did not cry.

"Why won't you fight?"  Another voice came from behind him.  The boy
turned and saw his Father there.  Instantly the boy dropped the practice
sword and ran to the side of the fighting pit, looking up to his Father.

"I don't like to."  The boy proclaimed, holding his arms up for his Father
to take him out of the pit.

The man didn't smile.  And the boy shrunk away.  The arms master now came
from behind, and put a hand on the boy's shoulder.

"It comes from his Mother's blood, he feels he is too good for us.  You
should never have mistaken that a good warren woman could make a good
wife."

The Father lowered his head.

"I do not feel that way!"  The boy said, slipping from the man's hand.
"Why won't you listen to me?  I don't like to fight...there is no reason
too!"

The arms master looked up at the Father.  "Leave us, I need to talk to
your son."

The boy ran forward, again holding his arms up.  "No!  Father take me
home, take me to Grandma!"

But the Father turned away.

"...Father?..."

And walked away.  As he did, he spoke softly, the words that would change
the boy's life forever.  "You are right Acrrus, about the boy and his
Mother. Do as you will....'train' my son."

"FATHER!"

White light seemed to explode from nowhere, and their was a sensation of
falling, and then a siloette in the light.  The boy, struggled to see the
face, but it was just out of comprehentions reach.

"Dameon.  Wake up my little man...wake up."

"Mother???"



Dameon sat up.  He was alone in a room.  He had been at the Healers Guild
in Tinobal for almost a week now.

There was a large group of bandages over his heart.  The treatments had
been several injections directly into his heart.  Dameon had never seen
such instruments before.  And the Healers had warned him that the
treatment in itself might prove lethal.

To date...it had not.

He stared at nothing as the latest memory/dream replayed through his mind.
One of the side effects of the powerful drugs was apparently extremely deep
sleep and memory recall.  Each time he had had an 'episode' he had
recalled a little more of his forgotten youth.  Most importantly facts
about his Mother that he had never known.

She had died while he was very young, and he never knew he name.  After
her death, his Father would not speak of her, or allow Dameon to ask
questions of her.  Dameon had always thought his Mother had died giving
birth to him...but now...he wasn't sure.  There had been...emotions?  Of
care and love that he knew had not come from his Father.

And his village had always hated him...and he never really knew why.

But this latest dream posed an answer to that question.

"My Mother was warren folk?"

He spoke it allowed, as if he expected someone to step forward and answer
with a yes or no.  He thought about it.  It would explain much.  The
villagers, their treatment of him.

His older Brother had been born of his Fathers first wife, but she had
been killed by a sickness of some kind.  Afterwards his Father had traveled
much with his only son, then returned, was married again, and Dameon was
born.  Or was he already married again when he returned?

Could he have returned with his Mother?

*Interesting, only one way to find out.*

<Yes.>  Dameon thought as he laid back down.

<The records of the warrens.  If they were married there they would have a
record.>

*And if they weren't?  Or if they weren't at Telnor?  From your thoughts
I can tell you have no idea of the range of your Father's travels.*

Dameon sighed.  <To tell you the truth I am not sure I want to know.>

*Why?*

<Because..>  Dameon rolled over.  <..what would it change, I am settled
with my past.  There is nothing for me there.  My Mother is dead, it does
not matter who she was.  I refuse to be one of those people chasing the past.>

*If you say so.*

Dameon paused, catching a stay thought in Themis's ever planning mind.

<No, you may not tell anyone anything about this.  I am not even going to
put it in the journal.>

*But you have written about the other dreams.  Won't they be curious?*

<Who?>

*The people who read our journal.*

Dameon laughed silently, as to not move his side too much, his rib was
still sore.

<Themis, forget about it, and don't say a word about it when we get back.
I should burn the journal as it is.>

*So we are going back to Telnor!!!*  The Dragon now totally distracted off
the topic.

<I have one more treatment to go, and we are out of here.>



Dameon got no sleep that night, as Themis was dancing in the clouds.



-- Dameon & Themis

	"Big hearts make room for Big souls."