Darius 5.23.12

Darius

{Wiping my mouth with the fine, ivory linen napkin, I smile and nod to Fritz} Excellent, as always. Thank you, Fritz. {Stepping away from the table, I tug at the cuffs of my shirt and head toward the hidden door leading to the tunnels. Tohrment's plans for the training center had been progressing rapidly. At the current rate, our first round of selection should be taking place in the next week, two at the most. Passing the frosted glass of Tohr's office door, I keep moving, stepping around construction supplies and the occasional stray beer bottle left behind.

I kick aside a painter’s tarp before placing my hand against the flat, steel panel inset and push into the gymnasium. Padded blue mats, stacked five high, rest against the far left wall. Ready to be laid out during combat exercises. To the right, a full compliment of weights, racks and benches sit, silently awaiting the strong hands that will lift them to build thick muscle. Shifting my eyes to the center rear of the cavernous room rests a small army of treadmills, sentinels ready for the powerful legs that will pound them mercilessly in a never ending quest for more strength, greater speed.

Entering the room, I turn to view the rows of shelving and hooks, heavy with their burden of nunchuka and padded armor, boxing gloves and headgear. The best money could buy to protect and train a new generation of warriors. Young fighters whose lives depend upon the training they'll receive here. A handful, no more, may prove to be smart enough, fast enough. Ruthless and determined enough to maybe, just maybe, be considered for induction into the Brotherhood itself. Fuck knows our ranks are in dire need of filling out. The war stops for no one, slows for nothing. So long as the Omega continues to churn out soulless soldiers, our strongest, quickest warriors will be necessary to protect our race.

The excitement I'd felt upon entering had turned solemn. The young males who would learn our ways, hone their skills. Many of them would surely be dead within their first year of fighting. Families would need comforting. Preferably by the King who will not be King. Shaking my head, I plant my hands on my hips and turn my eyes to the parquet floor. Fucking Wrath. A royal by birth. A leader who will not lead. Selfish son of a bitch. The years that have passed, the bloody battles we've fought side by side. The civilians massacred. None of it enough to shake the stubborn ass in his convictions that he will not take the throne. What's that leave? Me. Tohrment. The rest of the Brothers? Too hot headed to consider for forward thinking. Tohr is right. They'll be valuable in teaching positions. Each bringing their own skills to the new recruits in hopes that there will be protégés found among the bunch.

Nodding my head firmly, I quickly glance around once more before pulling the door wide, leaving the gymnasium behind to inspect the rest of the modifications and improvements Tohrment's been involved in over the past five months.} #BDBB