Prologue

"If you had been there, you would know what it felt like. You would know what I'm talking about. A wave of joy and reprieve came crashing through our hearts; we held our final victory at last. We never thought that day would come, not after all that we had been through."

Walter used his hands and arms to mime a victorious blow in a sword-fighting move, as if the final stab through the air had won the entire battle. The little girl, sitting up with eagerness, was clutching her pink satin sheets – even her cozy little bed could not beckon her to sleep. She was wide-eyed with excitement and hungered to know what happened next. The middle-aged general in his semi-tattered uniform gleamed with experience and respect, the sash that bound his torso prided with his rank. He never cared to change out of his uniform, to him it was a badge worth showing off.

"And then what?" shouted the tiny princess.

Walter chortled. He leaned closer from where he sat and looked at the 5-year-old's hazel eyes.

"Then… We went home - and celebrated our good fortune with ale."

The child slumped back against the bed's headboard,

"Is that all?" she frowned, hoping for another twist in the ending. Like a hollow man swinging his axe out of nowhere, or perhaps a highwayman came out of hiding for a pathetic attempt at an assassination.

The candlelight on her side-table illuminated the contours of her small face and the upside-down curve of her lips; she fears they have come to the end of her story. Walter looked to her and chuckled at her disappointment to a simple pleasant ending.

"You know, Princess. Some soldiers would give anything to leave a battle victoriously and without a scratch. The fact your mother always survived these hour-long battles unharmed is a miracle to us all."

The Princess looked up at Walter, wondering where he's going with this. He continued,

"Some soldiers don't even get to make it home. Some had to be buried by their friends, left in the earth, and would never get to go home to see his wife and child."

She was reminded that even the best battle stories have sacrifices; Walter always carried this message to every bedtime tale. The girl looked down, feeling guilty, a rare trait for normal girls her age – but as royalty, she must comprehend this concept early on. Walter put an arm around her little shoulders, he looked like a gentle-giant compared to her. To ease her guilt he said,

"…But that is why we have Heroes like your mother, as Queen of Albion, she ruled her people with security and justice. She saved people where ever she went."

"But Walter, why must mother save people? She has many soldiers under her command; she leaves us every time just one person is in trouble."

"A human being with great power such as a Hero like your mother has a responsibility. To protect those who cannot protect their selves, with her around, she protected Albion and minimized bloodshed of the innocent. Like those of the soldiers who fought on her side. Life is an important and precious thing, it should never be wasted."

The thought sank in the child's mind in wonder; she lit up like a candle and stood on her bed, unveiling a hidden wooden toy sword from her pillow. She jolted it in the air as if announcing a war hero's cry.

"Then I will be, a Hero too! I will protect Albion and its people, from evil and darkness!"

The girl swung her arm in the air with so much force that she tripped and fell after a full swoop into Walter's arms. He stood her back up on her toes, then looked down and chuckled.

"You rest tonight girl, let the saving of the world in your brother's hands for now."

"Is Logan a Hero too, Walter?"

"Oh I'm sure of it; he has your mother's blood after all. And so do you."

"Walter… Teach me; teach me to become a Hero."

Walter's smile widened, his black gray-less moustache curved with it, and the creases of his face weren't as visible then.

"Of course lass, your training starts tomorrow. I expect you to be ready and willing." He said with a stern tone, that of a teacher, but then he softened with that of a father. "And I know you'll do me proud."

She looked like a little baby as he enclosed his arms around her as if he was hiding her from the world, but he knew his place and patted her on the head as a goodnight.