Darren's POV
There was never a time that I was human so I had no fond memories to reminisce; but I had a fun childhood albeit with the deadly training that my father had me undergo.
He was a tough man and strict to the core, but he made sure that every job was done right and that included his job of raising me. Raising me as both his son and the saviour of our kind.
I remember when he first trained me on hand to hand combat. He made me fight him, with my short body at the age of 10 and wearing biker gloves, while he held onto a short dagger. Totally unfair to a child who had never been in a brawl in his short life.
He knew fully well that there was no way I could overpower him so he made a rule: if I could evade twenty stabs from his dagger, then I had won the fight. It seemed so simple, and I was excited about it. Evading wouldn't be so hard. I was already faster than a cheetah, but I was never more wrong.
The moment he started moving, he was like a blur. Like flashes of colour in front of me. I could barely keep track of his feet as he moved from one spot to another. And then, the first stab came.
Lightning fast and I could even hear the air rip apart as the dagger lunged forward. With just my keen senses, I evaded the dagger but without grace as I rolled onto the floor. He stopped for a brief moment to look me in the eyes and shake his head in disappointment. It wasn't exciting to see your son, who you had painfully trained for years, fail so miserably.
I laid on the ground there, staring my dad in the face. I could see his face filled in disappointment. Not wanting to be a complete shame, I stood up and readied myself for another charge from him. As I stood there in silence, I began to remember all the things he had told me a while ago: that my speed shouldn't be the only thing I depend on.
Being a tribrid, I was born with insane strength, speed, heightened senses amongst others. I was even faster than my father, but that was only when both of us ran in a straight line. I could barely use my speed in a fight; I would always leave too many openings. At the moment, I was only good in snatching and escaping.
But I tightened my fists as I looked my father in the eye with determination written all over my face. He nodded his head in approval as he took a single step towards me. This time, he seemed to go all out as even the leaves on the trees were pulled into the little whirlwind he created.
He said one word "Steady!" as he blasted towards me. I listened silently and watched my surroundings with my ears, eyes, nose, skin and even the hair that stood erect all over me.
I could feel the wind coming at me from all over, and even some leaves hit me as the wind carried them. I felt a slight push coming towards me from my lower left region, just around my last two ribs.
I effortlessly jumped up and I could see the slight flicker of the dagger as it reflected the sunlight, just before it vanished again. I bent into a dive and headed back to the ground. I landed with a roll and then jumped off to the left side.
This time, I saw the dagger stab the place where my neck was the moment I got out of my roll. I wasn't dogging the dagger because I could anticipate his moves, I was dodging it because I moved before he did and he couldn't read my movements. This went on for another 5 moves until I made a mistake of jumping to high with no tree in sight.
I hung in the air and my father jumped to meet me before aiming the dagger at my shoulder, jamming it in with the force of an adult bear. The stab pushed me back to the ground and I blew away the leaves for around 5 meters. I casually pulled the dagger out and my dad landed in front of me, with a very small smile littering his ever-so normal face.
"Though you couldn't dodge more to six moves, you did much better than I expected. Now, we will do this twice a week till the day you can wrest the dagger from my hands."
With a forced smile, I got up to meet my father's gaze with mine. Deep down, we both knew that I was slowly embarking on a road that would not include him. For if I would rise, he would have to fall. There could never be two kings in one palace.
And on his last day, sacrificing himself to protect me as the blade of a demon pierced his still beating heart, he smiled as he looked up at me, rushing to him through the sky. For even as little love he showed me, I knew I occupied the most space in his heart, but it was never a topic we dwelt upon.
The only loving words I ever heard my father speak to me, were in passing; a week before my coming-of-age ceremony.
"Amongst all my achievements and everything I cherish, amongst even my prized possessions, you're the one thing I can never regret. Even though you weren't exactly something I planned, I plan to raise you as a king that you will live to be; and as the lovely son I birthed."
And even though those words were never repeated in the entirety of his remaining years, I had them engraved in my mind and heart.
Still deep in my thoughts, a lady, clearly in the ages between 25 and 30, clad in knee-high boots, walked up to my table and grabbed the seat beside me.