"Oh dear." Damian sighed softly. "Daddy really is sorry, come, why don't you give me a make-up hug?"
"Stop treating me like a child, I'm fifteen-years-old!" She complained as she pouted.
A soft smile emerged on his face, as he got up, approaching his daughter.
"Congratulations on winning the Martial Contest." He smiled affectionately as he caressed her brown hair, patting her softly. "I'm proud of you."
Fiona didn't respond to those words.
"Unsatisfied?" He asked with a knowing smile.
"...Maybe." She replied.
"What do you feel?"
"I want to know..." She said.
He waited for her as he continued caressing her head.
"...I want to know what drives him and his kind down their Martial Paths."
She closed her eyes as she recalled the intense determination that sparkled his bloodshot eyes even as he lost consciousness.
"Is it really worth a path walking down?" She asked, as her intense curiosity coloured her eyes.
"Who knows?" He smiled. "Is it?"
