Damien was slowly polishing his crossbow while waiting for the young witch to wake up... It was a long process that needed patience and a lot of attention to the detail. Or at least that was Damien's opinion as this one was his favorite crossbow. We would clean it, oil it and polish it again and again until he would see it "look charming", as he liked to say in his rare times of normal humor, and then he would bless it with the talismans and magic barriers his father taught him...<br/><br/>The sound of the girl waking up made Damien's eyes rise to her silhouette, whose delicate features were hidden beneath her troubled looks. She seemed terrified. Their eyes met once more. He could feel the tense of a nightmare inside hers and a small heart-shiver in his chest. It was like he didn't want her to suffer. That thought was locked away in his mind in mere seconds, never to come out again from that dark prison. Her voice echoed in the room and it was not evil nor darkened by the diabolic spirits that use to live in a witch's soul. It was warm, instead, and soft.<span style="font-style: italic">"What are you gonna do with me?"</span>she said almost whispering.<br/><br/>Another shiver was locked inside that very same dark prison...<br/><br/>What was happening? He had killed many filthy witches like her... but this particular one had... something... He gathered back his strength and looked into her eyes with the very same hatefull look he had before he finish off a witch.<br/><br/>"Well, that depends on you. You can save your life for now when you tell me where the rest of your filthy kin is holding it's dark rituals...Don't try anything smart, the very same magic you people use, keeps you bonded under my rooftop. Now, start talking!"