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Darkwynd · **11-14-2014, 07:55 PM**

Joseph The Narrator Said:Born in a lab. Raised at the Vatican. We know that about the Xtreme Enigma. Not to be confused with THE Enigma. But delving deeper into his past, you will find a story of a young man seeking discipline. A young man who wanted to learn how to fight, but not as his father does. No. The murderous Cain and the Enigmatic Darkwynd, they are as different as night and day. Some things you just cannot be taught by yourself or even at home. Some things you have to travel abroad to learn, and so the man in the facepaint did just that.

Growing up, James Knight never had a father figure in his life. More than a few times, the young man had gotten into trouble, being that most young men in a religious environment become rebellious. Quite so was the case with young James. As he grew up, he stole from many a different store in the market. He would wreak havoc on older people's houses just for fun, and that was just the half of it. That was the dark blood running through his veins. His biological father's genetics hadn't completely passed him over. By the age of thirteen, he ran with a youth gang whose name cannot be pronounced in English. Of course, all that changed three years later.

The gang was on top of the world. But that sort of thing never really lasted. When he had been caught stealing, and detained, the disappointment from his mother weighed on him like a ton of lead. He didn't go out with his gang of friends anymore. He stayed home having been bailed out with church money. But a year later, something happened. Something always does.

The streets were abuzz with inhabitants of the holy city as they went about their daily tasks. It was mostly tourists though. Groups of men and women who were simply there for sight seeing. Cameras clicked at the sights of the beautifully designed city. Peace reigned on this day. The sun was shining and there was the nicest breeze blowing through the alleyways and such. One James Knight kept to himself as he headed back from a trip to the market for his mother. Tomatoes and garlic were in his bag. He had a little money left, but after the whole debacle with crime he had, he wouldn't dare spend it frivolously.

As he walked past an alleyway, he heard a weak voice. An old man's voice.

"Son...come here..."

Said the man as he tapped cane on the wall. He got James' attention, but James was half tempted to keep walking. However, out of respect...

"Can I help you sir?"

This old man looked different than the people he was used to. His eyes were slanted. Well, they were more oval shaped than anything. He wore robes from a foreign land, but they were ragged and dirty. The old man looked at him and pleaded.

"Just a few coins, son. I just need a few coins for some bread. Please spare me at least three. I am a starving man.."

He hesitated and looked down in the small pouch given to him by Sister Maria. Three coins exactly. He frowned.

"Are you sure that's what you want them for?"

"What else would I want them for, young man? I am not a drunkard and I do not lie. Dishonesty is dishonorable."

He blinked twice. The old man had such an offended look in his eyes at this very moment. He looked as if he'd just been compared to Peter Gilmour. The old man, however, smiled.

"Cat got yer tongue, boy?"

Darkwynd...err...James shook his head emphatically.

"No sir. I apologize for my hesitation. My mother always told me not to judge a book by it's cover, but I kinda just thought..well, there are alot of bad people on the streets. I know this sir, because I was once one of them."

"Ohhhhh...and you mistook me for one of these bad people because I am wearing rags? Not very godly, sonny. Nope, not very benevolent at all."

James facepalmed.

"Crap...sir, I meant no harm. I'm just set in my ways, I suppose. I.." he smiled at the old man, and handed him his last three coins. "...would be delighted to help you."

Joseph The Narrator Said:Before we go any further, allow me to explain that Bushido has a set of seven virtues. Two of those virtues were shown that day as the two men became friends and those two virtues were compassion and respect. See, this was the first positive role model James had ever had. He never told young Mister Knight his name. He was simple known as "Gramps". The two went fishing often. As a matter of fact, it was one of their favorite activities.

The Fishing Trip

The two friends sat on the dock. All was quiet. James shifted impatiently.

"Gramps....nothing is biting.."

The old man say there, as still as a statue. His old bamboo pole had cast his line out about halfway. James tiled his head.

"Gramps?"

"Quiet boy. You are scaring the fish away, so nothing will bite if you do not cease. It is as they say..."a watched pot never boils"."

James was confused.

"What does..." he lowered his voice. "...what does boiling water have to do with fishing? I am afraid I do not understand."

"Just wait, son. They will bite. You've to be patient." He chuckled. "Be quiet too. Gramps has a headache."

Silence once again. The young man, now seventeen, had taken on the habit of listening yo the older man. In mere minutes, James felt a tug on his line. He grinned excitedly, pulling at the pole. Gramps just smiled as he watched his young charge reel in the biggest fish he had ever caught. The two would eat well with Miss Knight tonight. As they walked home, carrying a basket full of fish (most caught by Gramps), James turned to his surrogate grandfather.

"Grandfather?"

"Yes sonny?"

"Were you just trying to teach me something? Some of that Bushy stuff?"

Gramps smiled slightly.

"It's Bushido and no. That was just so that we may eat tonight. Your mother is very good with cooking the fish, yes?"

"Well yes.." He grinned. "...but mom can cook anything. Mom is amazing."

"Indeed. She has the kindest heart."

"She was a nun, after all. Of course..." he looked down with guilt. "...she quit to become a full time mother to me."

Gramps nodded.

"What of your father, Son?"

Young James stopped in his tracks.

"He..." Tears formed in his eyes. "...he's dead. At least that's what mom says. But I don't believe her, because I have a feeling that something is very wrong. Like she doesn't WANT me to know him. But..."

"...Sister Maria has her reasons, Son. You should just trust your mother. She is very wise and benevolent."

"Yeah...yeah, maybe you're right Gramps. She did raise me after all."

"And despite what you told me about, you are an excellent young man. Growing into a fine adult."

"Thank you, Gramps."

Suddenly, he noticed that they had strayed from the path they normally took to go home. James narrowed his eyes as they walked among the abandoned houses.

"What the neck are we doing here, Gramps?"

Gramps moved into an alleyway and James followed. Upon entering, the two laid eyes upon three homeless people. A mother, her son, and what appeared to be their father. The three were skin and bones. He watched as the old man went about making a fire and conversated with the poor family. He never answered. He just went about preparing a few fish and cooking them on spits over and open flame. The poor family were so grateful. The old man also handed them a hand full of money. More thank yous were exchanged and they finally left.

"That was the most noble act I have ever seen, Gramps. Do you know those people?"

"No. But I know their heart, and I know how it aches. Remember, I was once like them. Remember, son...always help those less fortunate. For one day, those very same people may help you. Never forget this."

He hung onto his surrogate grandfather's words as the two made their way onto the path toward their home where Sister Maria would certainly be waiting. The sun was setting.

Joseph The Narrator Said:The word of the day is compassion. But young James has so much more to learn.

To Be Continued

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