Avo knows I was trouble as a child. There was hardly a day without a schoolteacher wringing me out or some other brat's parents giving mine enough pieces of their minds to rob them of any for themselves. My father hardly knew what to do with me.

I suppose it would have been easier for my father to punish me if I were stealing teddy bears from little girls or vandalizing property. But no. I was trouble because I saw problems and only knew one way to solve them. I wasn't a very bright kid, but I was strong for how scrawny I seemed. Being a farmer's son helped with that.

I made a habit out of punishing the other kids when they did something I didn't like.

I remember once, farmer Briant had asked me to watch some barrels while he went to town. This kid, Adam I think, came up to me and suggested I break the barrels to see what was inside. I said no, but he kept pestering me. I tried to ignore him. I even closed my eyes and counted to 10. I got to 6 before it broke. His nose, that is, broke. My father would normally give me a whipping or a timeout before that. He just gave a furrowed smile and chuckled though when a guard dropped me and the bleeding and crying Adam to his doorstep.

He knelt down very close to me and put both arms on my shoulders. "Son, it doesn't seem you plan to stop all this hitting and punching nonsense. So I have only one thing to say," he said plainly as he stared me straight in the eyes. "Only hit someone if they really deserve it. You've got a good punch and they've got to earn it. Understand?" I think I did.

I didn't raise a fist against another boy for a few weeks after that. My father was proud. My mother, stoic as always, told me I'd, "find something to get at soon enough."

I did. His name was Petre and he liked to steal teddy bears. Petre was new to town and as soon as I saw him, I knew he was going to break my pacifist streak. It started with Petre's little sister, Emily. She had lost her bear, Rosie and sent me out looking for it. Some boy was playing with it when Petre came upon him.

He snatched up Rosie with a sneer, saying, "Well, what've ya got here ya little thief!"

"I only found it! Give it back!" he cried, jumping up to grab it as Petre dangled it just above his reach.

As the boy was jumping to grab the bear, Petre gave him a shove, sending him to the dirt. He followed the shove with a kick to the ribs. That was when I cleared my throat.

"Oh, it's you. Help me beat this little thief down, will ya?" he said with a wolfish grin.

I raised my fist and sent it flying, landing squarely on Petre's chin. He didn't waste time with surprised gasps or a quip. He dropped the bear and gave me a black eye. I returned the favor with a left hook. He aimed for my nose with his left but only split my lip. I hit his nose, giving it a dent and making it bleed. With his hands raised to protect his face, Petre took a few steps back to get some distance between us. Our ragged breathing filled the air, accentuated by the occasional wine of the boy hiding behind a barrel. I got a bit of a running start and leapt at Petre. We both went down hard but Petre went down harder. On top of him, I raised my hand to give a final blow. I stopped before my fist connected. He hadn't earned that final punch.

I left Petre in the dust and carried Rosie back to Emily. She gave me the most concerned look any five-year-old could ever muster before thanking me.

My mother called me in from the window. She didn't say a word but she gave me a hug and a kiss on the forehead. After standing there in silence for a moment, she motioned for me to go to the ice box to stop some of the swelling. That was my mother; quiet, stoic, practical, and proud.

Today I start my first quest as a Hero. I don't know what it'll be yet, but I do know that I'm going to protect everyone I can. I'm not afraid to give anything that deserves it what's coming.

I hope it's not wasps though. I have an allergy.