Disclaimer: Nope, I don’t own Witch Hunter Robin.
Puff: *happily cuddling knife*
Kitsune: She’s weird.
Amon: *nods*
Puff: *glares* You can have it back! *flings knife at Kitsune*
Kitsune: *dodges and pulls blade out of the wall* Thanks. Now I can put it back in my room, where it belongs.
Puff: *pouting*
The Joys of Parenthood
Chapter Forty: Her Dormant Power
By the next morning, Amon had managed to push Robin’s foreboding comment to the back of his mind. He didn’t know Bryton personally and decided that much wouldn’t be lost if something were to happen to the boy. Well, that’s what he had thought before he went to the office.
“Amon, you’ve got to see this,” Doujima called out the second the dark man walked in through the doorway, waving him over to where the computers were arranged. He slowly walked over, pausing to make sure that Javan had followed him.
“Look what Bryton and I did over night,” Michael said, beaming with pride at what they had accomplished. Amon looked down at one of the screens, let his dark eyes flick over the display, and looked back up with a slight annoyance painting his eyes.
“I don’t see anything different from the way it was set up before,” Amon said coolly, crossing his arms over his chest, “You just restored the computers. Michael, you could have done that in less than an hour by yourself.” The computer hacker shook his head, moving the mouse around a bit so he could click on icons.
“We’ve gone through and protected every file. There are proxies, with vicious programs that trace the individual back, in case someone does get it. I know, we had that kind of thing before but this only takes seconds to find a person,” Michael explained quickly, clicking on something else, “All the case files are hidden behind façades and generally require a password to get in. The most important files take up to five or six different codes to gain access.”
“I assume that we’ll all be given the passwords and codes that we’ll need to operate the computers effectively,” Amon said the second Michael finished speaking, turning to look at Bryton before he continued, “You may have helped us now but a single betrayal will cost you dearly. For now, you have some degree of my trust.” The thin boy nodded vigorously, smiling brightly at Amon.
“I understand sir. Believe me, I’d rather die than help the other witches,” Bryton said proudly, pleased that he had finally managed to break away from the witches who had oppressed and used him for years. Amon was about to walk away from the boy when he saw Javan playing with a doll off in a corner. He put a firm hand on Bryton’s shoulder and pulled him away from the rest of the group.
“Do you know why those witches want Javan?” Amon asked softly, his deep voice barely audible. He pointed vaguely to his daughter, in case Bryton didn’t know whom he was talking about.
“I don’t. Emberli and I weren’t really kept in the loop. Sure, we got the rest of them information but much wasn’t really discussed with us. We had too many opportunities to communicate with the outside world,” Bryton elucidated, a touch of sadness to his voice, “I never even saw the boss without his hood over his face, though others did. It was mainly his Select Five who dealt with him and delivered his orders to the rest of us.”
“Select Five?” Amon said questioningly, genuinely intrigued.
“Yes, the most powerful witches with them,” Bryton said quickly, brushing a lock of light brown hair away from his forehead, “I suppose it’s the Select Four, now that Morganna was killed. There’s never been less than three and never more than ten. When I was younger, there were six of them. A young woman named Reika was one of them for the longest time. But she ran away about three years back. We actually couldn’t track her down for the longest time but we found her a few days before she died here in the city.” He looked up, only to see an astonished Amon staring at him.
“Was this Reika in her early twenties with black hair and blue eyes?” Amon questioned tensely, his charcoal eyes brilliantly lit.
“Yes, I remember her clearly. She used to be the one in charge of caring for the children, though she wasn’t much older than some of her wards,” Bryton stated, the light from his eyes fading slightly as he thought about her, “Did you know her?” Amon paused to think about if he really wanted to answer the boy, weighing each answer carefully.
“She is Javan’s mother,” Amon said blankly, letting his long bangs shade his eyes while he waited for a response. With a dazed look to his face, the teen boy looked from the dark man to the small girl repeatedly. He hastily pushed away the stunned feeling, fighting down the urge to go hug the daughter of the woman who had cared for him for so much of his life.
“That could be a major reason why the witches want your daughter. The children of the Selects almost always grow up to be powerful enough to lay claim to a parent’s spot,” Bryton said cautiously, nervously wringing his hands together, “If I recall correctly, none in the group now didn’t have at least one parent who was amongst the chosen. About half had both parents in the group, but usually the Select marry into the next lower ranking so there can be an infusion of new blood.”
“Are you telling me that Javan is going to develop powers?” Amon asked coldly, his eyes narrowing into dangerous slits, “Do all the children of the Selects show that they carry the witch genes? When does it happen?” Bryton shrunk back into a corner, terrified at having to tell Amon the truth. His brown eyes were lit with pure fear as he struggled to reclaim control over his vocal cords.
“All the children of the Selects show their powers. They never lay dormant. The age, however, depends on many things. I’ve personally seen children gain their powers as late as their twenties, but that was only among the lower rankings,” Bryton explained nervously, his eyes as wide as they could go, “Most of the children who were born into the higher ranks started to show their powers in early childhood. But I don’t know anything about the Select children, besides that their powers always manifest, because they were kept secluded.”
Bryton waited to see how Amon would take to the news, wincing at every move the dark hunter made. Amon was slowly processing the information that had just been presented to him, desperately trying to grasp the thought that his daughter would grow up with powers to rival the STN-J’s most recent opponents.
“I’m sure that Javan will have near perfect control over her powers,” Bryton said softly, staring down as his off-white sneakers, “With all the training resources that you could use, she could learn to be a hunter or something. She’d probably be just like Robin.” Amon slowly nodded, still not completely back in touch with the rest of the world.
“I suppose I should thank you for telling me all of this,” Amon said, his eyes slightly glazed over, “I’ll let you return to Michael and the others now.” He turned to walk off, but stopped when Bryton nervously tapped him on the shoulder.
“You’re welcome. If you need to know anything else, I’ll be overjoyed to tell you. I just wanted to say that,” Bryton said quietly, slipping past Amon to sit back down in his chair.
Amon hurried past the confused group of hunters who had been trying to listen in on the conversation, settling himself down into the darkness of the empty conference room. He made sure he could see out in the main part of the office, his eyes riveted to Javan. He watched her play with the toys she had surreptitiously snuck from their home.
The dark hunter was stunned when Robin looked over at him; he had thought that he had situated himself far back enough in the shadows that he wouldn’t have to deal with anyone. The craft user’s green eyes were blank as she stared at him and as she quickly stood up, walking toward where Amon sat quietly.
“Do you mind if I sit here?” Robin asked, gesturing at the chair next to Amon. He shook his head vaguely, his bangs barely moving at all. She quickly set herself down in the seat, watching him out of the corner of her bright eyes.
For at least ten minutes, they sat in complete silence. The pair seemed to take turns watching one another, instantly looking away when the other looked up.
“He says that Javan is going to grow up and develop a craft,” Amon said suddenly, catching Robin by surprise, “He said that Reika was a powerful witch, that she was among the highest ranked witches and that those witches always have children who are just as powerful.” Robin stared at him, her eyes luminous with slight disbelief.
“Javan…she just doesn’t seem like she could handle a craft,” Robin muttered to herself, fiddling with her sleeve. She brushed back her blonde bangs, trying to keep her emerald eyes on Amon.
“She’ll have to learn. It doesn’t seem like it’s a case of if she’ll get powers but when she’ll get them,” Amon stated point blankly, standing up to walk away, “I guess we’ll simply have to be on alert from now on, to make sure she’s trained properly from the second her dormant power begins to arise.” He strode back out into the well-lit office, leaving Robin stunned in the gloom.
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