Read The Brotherhood: Blood for Free Online Page B

“Goodnight, son.”
    When he bowed his head to continue his own meal, his mind filled with regret and his heart pained so, he began to believe that nothing he would ever really, truly do would ever bring his son any form of comfort or happiness.
    Have I failed as a father, he thought, because my son is too afraid to be around other people?
    A pair of small arms circled around his waist.
    “Father?” Odin asked.
    “Yes?” Ectris replied.
    “Is everything all right?”
    “Everything’s fine,” he said, wiping his mouth before leaning forward and pressing a kiss to his son’s brow. “Goodnight, Odin.”
    “Goodnight,” the little boy said.
    Ectris watched his son walk down the hall with an iron ball of hurt inside his chest.
     
    “Go on, Odin! Hit it like that. Slash, thrust, stab, kick! Watch out for the sword!”
    His son picked up the routine faster than Ectris had expected. Grinning, almost unable to control the happiness that pulsated his chest and fixated at his seat near the one lone tree that stood on the southern side of the property, he corrected his son when necessary and told him to stable the positioning of his feet in order to not stumble or trip when jumping back or lunging forward. In that moment, it seemed, Odin appeared all the more capable than he had yesterday—when, after a day’s worth of training, he struck the dummy with such force that Ectris thought for a moment the potato sacks filled with sand would break open and spill their nonessential guts onto the ground.
    I can’t believe it, he thought, watching Odin’s intricate thrusts, stabs, twirls and kicks. This is my son I’m watching.
    In the heat of the mock battle currently taking place before him, Ectris explained that, by attacking an enemy’s torso, they would attempt to raise their sword or shield and deflect the blows set toward them. He then said, after a moment’s pause, to target the legs, that, though covered with armor, would be one of the enemy’s most crucial weak points.
    “Go for the knees!” Ectris cried. “Kick! Kick!”
    His son lunged forward and struck the pole directly where the enemy’s crotch would have been.
    “Goddamn!” he cried, thrusting his hand into the air. “Go Odin, go!”
    You’re training him well, he thought, nodding, pushing himself to his feet and broaching the end of the practice ring, taking extra care to make sure his son was not leaving himself open in any way or form. He’ll be serving beneath the king someday.
    That lone instinct sent flutters of emotion throughout his chest and around the curves of his ribcage.
    “Concentrate!” Ectris cried, his heart beating faster and faster as he continued to circle about the ring. “Hit it, Odin! Hit it! Goddammit, son! It’s going to get you if you don’t hit its weak points! Go for its head, its shoulders, its knees, its fucking balls and crotch! Hit it with all you’ve got! Hit it! HIT IT!”
    The little boy let out a battle cry so loud and fierce Ectris thought for a moment it had come from a much stronger figure.
    A burst of white light flew from the child’s palm and collided with the dummy.
    For one brief fraction of a moment, Ectris believed nothing had happened—that this light, as surreal and mystical as it happened to be, was simply a trick of the sun playing off the little boy’s sword.
    I didn’t, he began.
    Before he could finish, the dummy exploded into a plume of white.
    It took him seeral long moments to realize just what had happened. His heart dead within his chest, his breath caught within his lungs, he watched as, slowly, the remnants of the construct began to fall around them—first the pole, which had shot straight into the air upon being struck, landed in the clearing, splintering and cracking in two whilst burning from the center, while the sand that had made up the torso and head showered down around them like hail from a thunderstorm. Some struck Ectris, momentarily stunning and throwing him back a