Daughter of the Knight

Author's note: If you are a comic-book fan, you might recognize who is who in this little story

Daughter of the Knight

I am the child of two dangerous people.

My mother was trained by my grandfather in the arts of intimidation, control ... and death.

My father, on the other hand, uses darkness and fear as weapons, but what most people don’t understand is that his goal always has been to protect those who cannot protect themselves.

To be a modern-day knight.

I was raised by my mother, and trained by her, until my father learned of my existence and took over my training giving me the role of his squire, so to speak.

I think he hoped by taking me in he was preparing me to be his successor when he died.

But unfortunately, I died first.

My father grieved, but my mother decided to do more than shed tears.

She took my body to a secret place my grandfather had made, where he had his greatest achievement, a process to restore life.

My mother knew there could be consequences to trying to resurrect me, that the process could make me crazy, or even worse.

But she never even imagined what really happened.

I changed.

Into a girl.

Uncertain what to do, she has taken me to meet my father.

We did not go to the large house where my father grew up, but to the secret place beneath it. It’s his true home, just as the costume he wears is closer to his real self than his unmasked life.

My mother leaves me in the shadows while she tells my father what she did.

He’s angry, chastising her.

She signals me, and I step from the shadows.

For a moment, all is silent except the distant rustling of leathery wings.

“Da...” He starts.

“I don’t think that name suits me anymore.” I interrupt.

His look softens, and he asks, “Are you ... are you okay?:

I nod, and say, “I think I’m better than okay ... father. The process ... it more than changed me. It ... purged me. For the first time in my life I feel ... clean. Balanced. At peace.”

My father does something I’ve rarely seen him do.

He smiles a genuine smile.

“In that case, welcome home ... daughter.”

My mother smiles, and so do I.

And so we ready for a new chapter in our story, and I cant wait ...

End.



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