Читать книгу Victor, Vanquished, Son - Морган Райс, Morgan Rice - Страница 12

Daskalos took a moment or two to bask in satisfaction as Telum stood within his home, sharpening a blade with the expertise of a well-trained warrior, not a boy only a few days old. He was a honed thing now. A deadly thing. Daskalos’s magic had failed so many times in this, but this time it had produced everything he could have hoped for.

In the space Daskalos’s power had created, the boy had grown into a young man, hardened by training, sharpened as much as the sword he held. He had as much strength as any man, and more skill. His whole life was dedicated to the purpose Daskalos had given him: to kill.

Daskalos had given him more than that. Magic rippled through the boy’s muscles, so that he would strike harder, heal faster. The blade he held was a thing of meteorite iron, carved with runes promising the death of its wielder’s foes. Daskalos had given his creation armor of living crystal, strong as steel and filled with magic.

“Are you ready to do what I have commanded?” Daskalos asked. “Are you ready to kill?”

Telum rose to stand before him. “Yes, Father.”

Daskalos nodded in satisfaction. He had seen too many attempts go wrong before this. He had watched boys twisted into dying, shapeless things. He had found some become physically perfect, only for their minds to be weak, or torn apart by the power running through them. With Telum, with his weapon, he had succeeded.