Ignite the Sun

Damien has just finished telling his favourite story and decided to take a break to stretch his bones.

The tavern was full, loud and hot while the outside was deserted and pleasantly cool – it was well past midnight and almost all of those who were still at the festival were inside, waiting for his next story.

He always enjoyed telling stories – he joined the military in order to make money to fund his hobby but then the invasion began.

Stuck as a soldier keeping the humanity safe little moments like this were the only occasions when he could do what he loved.

In another life he might have been a bard or maybe even a writer, but thinking about what could've been was going to just make him depressed.

He needed to just clear his mind and he'd go back to doing what he loved.

Well, at least that was the idea until he heard a commotion in a nearby alley. Out of curiosity he went to check out what happened – but what he saw definitely wasn't what he expected.

A young girl no older than seven was standing in the middle of the alley with a bloodied nose and a broken stick in hand.

Her long red hair was tangled, hinting at the confrontation that have just taken place, but her eyes were hard, almost disturbingly so for someone so young.

"You alright kiddo?" Damien asked.

The girl narrowed eyes at him and pointed the stick at him him like a weapon.

"Leave me alone or I'll beat you."

She tried to sound confident but the plate armour and the massive sword on his back made her voice quiver.

"I'm not going to hurt you." Damien kneeled, going down to her eye level. "What's your name little spitfire?"

"Alison." The girl looked at her feet.

"What happened to you Alison?"

"Stupid boys attacked me."

"And?"

"I was stronger."

"I see." Damien nodded. "Why are you here at this hour?"

Alison looked away and shrugged half-heartedly.

"...your parents?"

"They're gone."

Damien sighed – Mountainfall was by far the safest settlement where 99% of the population didn't leave the city walls for their entire life, and yet it had its own share of unique problems. An abundance of orphaned or abandoned children was only one of them.

As a knight he swore an oath to protect the weak and innocent – there was only one possible answer to this situation.

"Let's get you cleaned up, you can't run around covered in blood."

Alison obediently followed his commands, taking a seat on one of the nearby boxes as he retrieved a handkerchief and a canteen of water from his spacial pouch – something he got from as a reward from a request issued by the Fallen Tower, but that was another story.

He wetted the piece of cloth and started delicately washing the blood of the girl's face. She was still holding her broken stick and observing him cautiously, but she didn't protest.

"Are..." She vegan quietly. "Are you a knight?"

"What makes you think that?" Damien asked as he continued to clean her.

"You have armour." Alison answered. "And a sword."

"Any fool can buy a sword and armour." He chuckled. "But yes, I am a knight."

"Why?"

"Pardon?"

"Why are you a knight? If anyone can have a sword and armour, what makes someone a knight?"

"A knight has to swear an oath."

Alison cocked her head.

"What's an oath?"

"It's a promise, one that says what we are supposed to do and what is forbidden."

"Uh-huh." She bobbed her head as a sign of understanding. "What was your promise?"

"That I would help those in need, protect everyone I could and never turn my back at human suffering."

Alison studied his face for a moment.

"...Is that why you helped me?"

"No." Damien shook his head. "I helped you because you looked like you needed help. My oath doesn't force me to do things, it describes the things I want to do."

He finally finished cleaning her face and placed the bloodied handkerchief back to his pouch.

"Do you have somewhere to stay little spitfire?"

Damien knew that they were several shared houses where many orphans lived together and if she lived in one of those there was no reason to intervene – they were usually in decent condition as the city assigned them caretakers.

"I have a shed..."

Damien frowned, that certainly wasn't a description of one of those places.

"Is your shed far away?"

She shook her head.

"Can you take me there?"

Alison bit her lip, but then nodded weakly.

He knew that people in the tavern were waiting for him, but this was more important – takes of monsters he fell and battles he won could wait.

They walked for only three minutes befor reaching Alison's 'home'.

Calling it a shed was a rather generous description; it was little more than a few planks nailed together to form something resembling walls and a roof – inside there was nothing but a pile of old hay serving the girl as a bed.

Damien certainly couldn't allow Alison to continue living in those conditions, but what options did he exactly have?

He could introduce her in one of the shared houses, but the girl clearly lived on the streets for quite some time, she more than likely already knew about them and probably had a reason why she didn't live there.

Alternatively he could ask Lady Sylara for a favor, as there was no doubt she could find a good place for Alison – but was this the best option for the girl?

As great as the Guardian was, she wouldn't have time to personally check up on Alison and in the unlikely scenario something goes wrong, the girl would be left alone again.

Almost subconsciously Damien's gaze fell on the broken stick Alison was stubbornly holding onto, and a crazy idea formed in his head.

He would have to stay here for longer and postpone some of his plans... but it could work. There was only the issue of how Alison would react to the suggestion.

"Hey, would you like to become my student?"