A.N. Alright, guys, here is the promised rewrite. Tell me your opinion on that one.

"Daniel James Fenton, if you don't wake up I'll splash a bucket of water on you!"

The named teen jumped on his bed out of surprise and hit the wooden beam above his head. Danny hissed in pain and rubbed his sore place, cursing that damn decorative mistake for god knows what time. There sure would be a bump on his forehead. Again. The boy opened his eyes, revealing two ice blue orbs. Slowly rolling around on a straw stuffed matress and avoiding hitting the same beam twice, Danny got into sitting position on his bed.

The boy covered his mouth to hide his yawn and stretched his muscles a bit. Then he got up from the bed and walked to a small shelf where his clothes were laying. First Danny put on the dirty gray linen braies, a white tunic, which he kept close to his waist by using thin brown belt. Personally the boy thought that the tunic could use a few additions, maybe a red circle on the chest or something like that. A real torture worthy of the Inquisition was putting the brown leather boots on his bare feet. Well, at least his family could afford to purchase several pairs, one for each member. They were rather new, but the intention was to keep them for years.

Running a hand through his raven spiky hair, Danny took a brief look on his room. It wasn't exactly spacey, eight square meters. Fentons couldn't be called rich, but they weren't poor either. Eight square meters were enough, considering that there were three bedrooms in general. Danny's bedroom could fit the bed itself and two shelves, one for clothes and one for the boy's own belongings. The entire furniture was made from the same light brown oak wood. Nothing fancy, but they completed their purpose well.

The boy didn't have time to go through the doorway, when he suddenly saw an obstacle on his way.

"Oh, hey, Mom," Danny said, smiling nervously, "I'm up."

Maddie sighed. "The breakfast is on the table, Danny. Come eat before it cools off."

She was a woman in her late thirties. Except having a few small wrinkles and grayed hair, Maddie didn't look her age at all. She had short brown hair reaching her neck. The mother of the family was wearing a light dress made from wool, dyed in a blue color. It had fine quality, while not being fancy, which showed the status of an average middle class denizens of Northern Europe.

"Alright, I'm going," Danny answered.

When Maddie walked in direction of her room, Danny sighed in relief and went down the corridor in the opposite direction. A few seconds later he flopped on a wooden chair in the main room. In one corner was a white stone stove with a chimney above it. There were several smoking pots and kettles with food, which smelled deliciously. In another corner were stacked multiple pieces of junk: metal, wood, it didn't matter much, the corner would be empty soon. On the table stood several plates with food and a jug, probably with water.

Danny started eating the oat porridge, when he heard a cough nearby. He looked up and noticed that he wasn't alone. Near him was a young nineteen year old woman with long red hair and teal eyes. She was wearing a dress of a similar color as her eyes.

"You will choke if you keep eating like that," the woman crossed her hands.

"Sorry, Jazz," Danny gulped what remained in his mouth. "I'm just hungry."

Jazz huffed, before noticing something. "Where did this scratch come from?" She asked calmly.

Danny rubbed the back of his neck. "I...was caught by a dog," he said and pulled the sleeve over the wound.

"I don't want to say that, but I told you that your night adventures may end badly one day."

"Jazz, I'm an adult. Can't I do what I want to?"

"Not if that is dangerous."

The young man sighed. "Just don't tell Mom and Dad."

"If it keeps going, I won't have any choice. I don't want you to get hurt, you know that, Danny."

"I know, I know.."

Then Maddie entered the dining room and went to the cooking spot. While fussing around the stove, the woman glanced back at her son.

"Can you bring the breakfast to your father, sweetie?" She asked.

Danny nodded and got up from his seat, before coming closer. Maddie gave him a small pot wrapped in a wet piece of cloth, so he won't get any nasty burns. Danny was holding the pot with two hands for comfort, so Maddie put a piece of bread on top.

The young man carried the food out of the house, where he took a breath of fresh air. Living on the city's outskirts had pros and cons. It was void of the casual noise of the city center, and the view on emerald grasslands was very refreshing, especially in the morning. Danny walked a few meters away from the doorway, through the front yard, marked by high wooden fence. He got to the small building without walls, where his father's workshop was. There was everything a blacksmith could desire: multiple instruments, anvil, melting stove. Danny heard steady sounds of hammer hitting the metal.

He looked to the direction of the sounds and saw his father at work. He was huge, two meters tall. Jack had been working near the forge his entire life, and he became very muscular, but it was hidden beneath a thick layer of fat, he liked eating, and ham was among his favorites. Danny hoped to gain some muscles too, but at the moment he was a simple helper. The man had black hair and blue eyes and was wearing an orange tunic underneath a black smithing apron. Jack finally noticed his son's presence.

"Morning, Danny-boy!" He said cheerfully, temporarily stopping from his work.

"Morning, Dad. I brought your breakfast," Danny smiled.

"That's great, son. Put it on the table," Jack responded, returning to smithing. "Can I ask you about a favor?"

"I actually planned to..."

"Don't worry, it won't take much time. Can you go to the tavern and fetch me a mug of beer for breakfast? You are going to the town, anyway."

Danny nodded. "Alright, see you!" He called, going out of the yard.

"Ask for the one from the basement!" Jack called after him.

The path to Amity Park's more inhabited area was short. It wasn't big, at least compared to the closest center of power with the population counting about eight hundred denizens. Danny walked through the wide streets, which had already filled with life. Merchants kept shouting over the loud bickering of the common folk, trying to sell their vegetables and other goods. Wagons were pulled around by donkeys or horses, trying to get through the sticky and wet substance some people called the road. Just a normal day, like many others. Danny entered one of the white buildings, which had a wooden signboard with an image of the mug.

It was poorly lit by a few candles and the light coming from a few windows. The dark wooden planks and furniture only made the atmosphere more gloomy. Not to mention the smell of the place: hurl and the scent of the cheap alcohol being present in a harmonious and nasty mix. However, the tavern was full of people, anyway. Why not? The place had the cheapest ale in all northern England, and unlike others, it was actually edible. Danny walked to the counter and drummed on it with the bones of his fingers. Immediately the owner, with brown hair and green eyes, appeared and beamed.

"Hey, Danny, your old man needs a refill, huh?" He asked.

"Yeah, can I..."

"I have one," The owner took a mug from beneath the table. "Jack is too predictable."

Danny snorted. "You telling me. Thanks, I'll get going."

The tavern owner owed Jack several shillings, so he was repaying his dept in drinks or food, which was actually rather tasty, when needed. The boy exited the tavern, careful not to spill the drink from a mug. He would have to return it after the ale itself would be finished, though.

When Danny was about to enter one of the alleyways, he heard someone calling for him.

"Danny, wait!"

Danny looked to the side and grinned. His friend Tucker decided to make an appearance. And speaking of appearance, the same aged man sure stood out from the crowd completely. Because to see a black skinned person so far on the North was ridiculous. He had turquoise eyes, black hair. He wore a long-sleeve yellow tunic, green braies with a black belt, and brown boots along with a small red felt hat.

Tucker's story was an unusual one. He was actually born on the African West coast, but at the age of eight he and his family were captured by Arabian slavers. From there they were shipped off to Al-Andalus. That's where he got separated from his parents. They were sold to some guy either in Byzantine Empire or one of Mid Eastern states. He, on the other hand, was sent to another place, he was purchased by an English tailor. The old man was after rare clothing from Asia, but decided to spend some money on the boy. Thankfully, the guy was kind enough, stern, but never abusive. He just needed the boy to help out during the work and watch over him. The old man was everything but rotting already and getting up from the bed was already a challenge for him.

The town folk wasn't too accepting of Tucker. It was understandable, he was completely alien to the environment. And so, Tucker didn't have any friends except for Danny. The youngest Fenton never could brag about his popularity, he didn't have anything to lose. Besides, he didn't have anything against the newcomer. But he gained a friend, just like Tucker did that day.

"Hey, Tuck, finally got a spare time?"

"My hands are hurting by now," the dark skinned teen moaned and showed his hands. "And I still have to deal with how many inches of cloth will be needed," he grumbled. "Joshua's punishment for yesterday."

"So in one word you are ditching."

"Yeah. But that was worth it, wasn't it?"

"That I can agree with, the expression on Baxter's face was priceless. Wish I could have a picture the moment he saw the painting on his wall," Danny whispered.

Both boys snickered in laughter. "Aren't you worried that he finds out that were us?" Tucker asked.

"I don't think so, Dash needs to have brains for that and he was the only one to see us. Besides, even Baxters won't be able to do anything as long as Masters sticks around," Danny said rather smugly, but a note of sarcasm could be heard in his tone.

"You still don't like him," Tucker stated the obvious.

"It's just...there is something unsettling about that creep. He sounds nice and he helps us when we need it, but I think it is just to impress Mom. Everyone sees that, except maybe Dad."

"Well, it is still good to have a friend who is one of the richest people in Europe, even if he IS a creep."

"No arguing here. But the point is, Vlad looks like he would stab you in the back when he gets a chance."

The conversation kept going for some time, but when they were going through the market, the boys heard a loud ringing. The town church rang when it was noon.

"Look, I've got to go, man. I don't want to get caught ditching."

Danny sighed. "Alright, Tuck. See ya in the evening."

The dark skinned boy nodded and ran off. Danny meanwhile walked in the opposite direction. He kept receiving weird expressions from the bypassers, but it was nothing out of ordinary. Fentons were famed as generally strange folks. The strange machines Jack Fenton made in his free time, which broke on the following day and were amazing only to Tucker, were one thing, but there was also another issue.

Despite being very faithful, Fenton seniors relied on the very...unorthodoxal ways of protecting themselves from hellish beings. Different amulets on the walls, methods straight from celtic times, etc. And such beliefs actually bordered, if weren't the part of paganism and heresy, but their donations to the church were rather generous, so the priests didn't comply. Still, how a simple ugly plant in a pot could save from a demon?

The family reputation affected the children as well, and not in a good way. Other kids tended to stay away from them. Jazz had found her vocation. She was learning from Mr. Lancer, who worked as a scribe to the local noble's court. The aged man had taught her how to read and write, and the girl in turn passed the knowledge to her brother. Jazz was skillful and dedicated person, she wasn't concerned about what others thought. Danny, on the other hand, felt the full pressure of the crowd's resentment. Of course, it got easier when Tucker appeared, but he remained an outcast nevertheless.

Jazz advised him to look on the things positively, and it helped him a lot. However, his mouth, which was becoming more snarky with each passing day, got him in a few troubles. Nothing serious, but nasty memories were still there. Danny wasn't planning to stop, as it had become his main way of dealing with things.

A few minutes later the teen got to his home. He saw Jack mercilessly devouring his breakfast and coughed to call the giant's attention. Jack stopped from his important task and looked up, before beaming brightly.

"Danny-boy, finally! I'm really thirsty!"

Danny silently put the mug on the table. Jack took the mug and made a large gulp. When he lowered the mug, Danny could see his confused expression.

"Is it from the basement as I asked?"

"Yeah, but I just got delayed and it warmed up a bit."

Thankfully his father was too inclined in food to pry the details. Danny would have tried to get away, but he couldn't find a valuable excuse, before Jack spoke again.

"Alright, Danno, let's get to work," Jack jumped from his seat and gestured for the teen to follow. "I asked the Master from Wales to make a decorated guard. It arrived yesterday, look."

Jack dug in his pockets and showed the item to the curious teen. The steel guard, which was shining under noon sunrays, was decorated with many engravings and patterns, which intertwined with each other in a beautiful pattern. But there were also some words.

"Look closely, lad, that's what I call a craftsmanship. I wonder what's written here, though."

Danny looked closely. "It's Latin, but I don't know what it means," he said. "You have to ask Jazz about it."

"Oh, alright, but it can wait. This is going to be the finest sword we have ever made, my boy!" Jack was babbling in excitement. "Alright, go fire up the forge and we will put everything together."

Danny nodded and got to work. Taking a metal rod, the teen started flipping the coal, meanwhile pulling the lever of bellows, stirring the fire. Jack meanwhile was making the last preparations, including the inspection of the steel pommel, which was delivered as well.

"The forge is ready, Dad," Danny called.

"Alright, son, let's start from the grip."

Jack took the blade of the future sword, which ended with a thin cylinder on one of its sides. The giant approached the furnace. "I have already made the blade and you know how we do that, Danno, I'll heat it up, when I take it out..."

"I slip the grip on it, I know," Danny rolled his eyes.

"See, you are catching on quickly!" Jack laughed, nudging the teen and almost making him fall.

The man held the grip over the fire. When it became bright yellow, Jack took it out. "Alright, do it."

Danny pushed the grip over the cylindrical part of the blade, while Jack was keeping it on one place. The heated metal bent and took a required shape, slimmer than before. Danny repeated the process several times, before his father gave a command to stop. After that Jack started to work on setting the guard firmly on the blade, while Danny sat nearby. The teen took a knife and started cutting the wooden hilt. As the small shavings fell on the floor, Danny was becoming more eager to ask the question bothering him for a long time.

"Dad, can I ask you something?" He asked, stopping his work for a moment.

"Sure thing, son," Jack said, not looking up from the blade.

"Why did you move away from London? Everything you are doing here are horseshoes and nails, for rare exceptions."

"Not at all, Danny-boy. I'm arming all guards around here, remember? Starting from helmets and ending with knifes."

"I was exaggerating," Danny sighed, swiping the knife across the piece of wood.

"I know, son," the man sighed. "I just didn't like all the noise of big cities, you see? Besides, I heard the legends about the forest nearby. Celts said that spirits of the dead live there. I wanted to prove everyone wrong by finding them, but I never had the time to check it out. Vladdie seemed interested in that idea as well, but he later became a merchant and never had time as well."

Danny stopped for a moment and looked on the distance. "So if your methods are proved useful, we can move somewhere else?" He asked.

"Why do we need to, Danny-boy?" Jack asked in honest confusion. "Everything is calm around here and we don't have a need in anything, right?"

"Yeah, right," Danny mumbled, looking at the ground. A silence settled between them again.

"Hey, how is the hilt doing?"

The teen gave the wooden hollow cylinder to his father. Jack examined it and nodded in satisfaction. He then stabbed the blade into the ground and started putting the hilt on the blade, right under the guard. It required several twitches, but it was done. After that Jack took an engraved pommel and put it over the hilt. A few hits of hammer, and everything was done. The man took the completed sword in both hands and grinned in pride.

"It's beautiful!" Jack exclaimed happily.

Before Danny could make a snarky remark, they heard multiple horse whines, the sounds of hooves hitting the ground, as well as the creaking of carriage wheels. Danny raised his eyebrow, Jack didn't tell him that they were going to have guests. He mentally begged that it wasn't who he thought it was. Jack himself meanwhile jumped from his seat like a kid who was about to get a Christmas present.

Soon he got his answer. A decorated wooden carriage with round top, accompained by nine riders, stopped out of the yard. There was a symbol on the carriage, a red image of the Dragon, standing on its back legs, with yellow background. Danny could not be a noble, but this symbol was widely known across the England. Mansons, whose ancestors could be traced back to William the Conqueror himself, when he was just a Duke of Normandy. But what could they be doing here?

One of the riders strolled forward and got on the ground. He was wearing a brand new coat of plates. It was a form of segmented torso armor consisting of overlapping metal plates riveted inside a cloth or leather garment. He also wore metal boots and gauntlets, but without a helmet, giving a good look on his face. The man had blond hair and pale blue eyes, which almost seemed gray and held a look of disdain inside. The guy obviously didn't like visiting low life places by his standards. Jack approached the man, and even though he was taller than the visitor, a deep bow from the blacksmith made them equal in height.

"Earl Manson, you have arrived early!" Jack said.

The noble rolled his eyes, "Skip the pleasantries, Fenton. I came for my order and I have a long way to Leicester, so hurry up."

"Of course, sir, Danny, bring the sword here!" Jack looked back at his son, who was still standing near the forge.

Danny nodded and carefully picked the weapon, holding the hilt in one hand, blade down. When he approached the noble, the teen handed the sword to the blond. Earl Manson examined the result, swinging it slightly and smirking. It was worth every copper he was going to pay. The sword was not only beautiful, but also lied good in his hand. He needed to test how good it was in the fight, however. Before he could say something, they all heard a sound of the carriage door opening. Everyone turned in direction of the noise.

A teen girl jumped out of the carriage. She was no older than Danny, looking only seventeen. The girl was wearing a very dark green dress with black patterns, with brown shoes on her slim legs. She had short and carefully combed raven hair, with a small and high ponytail. But Danny's look was glued to her eyes, they had the most captivating purple color he had ever seen. The girl approached the group, but Earl Manson didn't seem happy about such development.

"Samantha, I told you to remain inside the carriage," he scolded her.

Samantha crossed her hands and narrowed her eyes at him. "And I told you that my legs are sore from all the riding, father," she said.

The noble sighed and shook his head. "I don't have time for this," he muttered. "Fenton, I need a demonstration," Earl said, handing Jack a sword.

Meanwhile the girl's eyes fell on the fourth member of the conversation. She gave Danny a small smile and he noticed that, feeling wobbly on the inside. Jack beamed and took the sword in his hand. He looked around and saw a hand of the shovel, without the metal part. He took it and stabbed it in the ground. Then the man took a stance, raising the sword. When he swung it, the thick wooden stick was cut in two pieces, one of them flying on a good distance away.

"It's just a stick, but I don't have anything better, yet," Jack said.

The Earl rubbed his chin in thought. However, he caught the blacksmith's son periodically glancing at his daughter, who meanwhile curiously observed the surroundings. The noble didn't like it at all, that peasant had to learn his place.

"Let the lad try," Manson suddenly said, catching everyone off guard.

All eyes turned to Danny, who shifted nervously under multiple gazes. Jack gave the sword to his son, smiling in encouragement. When Danny took the weapon in his arm, Manson could already see the outcome. Wrongly positioned legs, all in all ineffective stance, lack of physical strength by the looks of it, all that factors summed up could lead to only two results. Either the sword was going to fly out of his hands, or nothing will happen.

When Danny swung the weapon, it was revealed to be the second. He just hit the stick, leaving nothing but a small cut, and it fell on the ground. To say that he was embarrassed as hell at the moment was the same as saying nothing. Manson was smirking inwardly. It happened just as he had predicted.

"Despite this less than impressive show," the blond commented sarcastically, taking back the sword and looking at Jack. "I'm satisfied with the work. Two pounds, as agreed."

Unnoticeably to them, Danny clenched his fists and glared at the arrogant bastard in front of him, who was meanwhile paying for the work.

"Don't worry about that," he heard a whisper. Danny looked to the side and saw the girl smiling up at him gently. She was a few inches shorter than the boy.

"My father can be nasty sometimes. I'm sure one day you will make it."

Danny just nodded mutely.

"Samantha, we are going, get back inside the carriage!" The Earl said.

"Coming," the girl said without enthusiasm.

She approached the carriage and dissappeared behind its wooden door. When the Earl Manson took the lead, the entire procession moved forward. Soon it dissappeared behind the trees as well. Danny suddenly felt a massive hand on his shoulder. Before his father could start another calming monolog, the teen pushed the hand off and turned to walk away. Jack didn't say anything, understanding that the boy needed to cool off.

And he really needed to cool off. Danny had reached the boiling point. He was so sick and tired of this. Bullying, laughing, he didn't want to go through the same torment over and over again. Danny just wanted his family to leave to the place where no one would know about their freaky attitude. If they ever cared how he felt about all of this...

When Danny sat on a tree stamp, a thought suddenly appeared in his mind. It wass a daring, maybe even ridiculous idea. He couldn't change his parents' opinion, their thick headness was legendary. But the citizens could change their mind if his parents' methods will be proved useful. For that, however, he needed to find a spirit in the forest. Desperate step, it was most probably going to fail. But either that or living an entire life under someone's boot.

So this night he was going into the forest.

A.N. Was it good? At least I certainly think so. As you could see, I took a 13 century England instead of thought up state. It shall give more realism and would allow to tie the story to the real history.

And yes, Danny is going to go ghost in the next chapter.