Under the vast blue sky, a young boy just woke up in the shade of a nearby tree on a hill. His friends have left him as a prank. Despite being alone, he smiled as observed his surroundings. On the left was the never ending ocean and on the far right were farming paddies. His village worked on fisheries and agriculture as their main source of income.
There was only one thing he felt at the bottom of his heart.
Peace.
Born in an unusual family, his mother was a native Pinarian and his father from a far away country called Vinland. He heard a lot of stories originating from both sides of the world, from the peace negotiation that united the once broken country to the industrial revolution of a certain powerful region. He loved hearing the tales before going to bed.
A group of boys undressed on the pristine sandy beaches and ran with no care in the world, splashing around as they crashed in the waves. The farmers on the other hand, were singing songs that had an entrancing melody. Their movements followed the stable beat of the music, the faster they sang, was equal to the pace they worked.
One of the boys from the group broke off and ran in his direction. He stumbled on the rocky climb but quickened his footsteps on the grassy area.
"Wake up sleepyhead! You'll miss all the fun!"
"I was just watching everything. You can see everything up in here." He giggled. "I just wish that we could live like this forever."
"Talking like an old man again?"
He stood and punched his friend on the arm and ended wrestling him on the ground, a common physical sport that was practiced by boys his age. They seemed like fighting but each of them laughed whenever they got the higher ground.
"Give up!" he locked his foot on his friend's arms.
"Okay! Let go!" his friend tapped lightly and massaged the aching arm. "Your technique is improving. I bet you can't handle me on water. Last one to the beach is a rotten egg!"
Once again, he was left on the hill. He didn't follow his friend. There was a certain satisfaction in sitting under a tree, feeling the sweet cool ocean breeze on his skin. He was left to his thoughts, a chance he always grabbed when the opportunity presents itself.
'What is a hero?' he thought to himself.
Does that person need to have a legendary weapon? Great power? A quest of grand scale? A mountain of gold? Or even a beautiful heroine that will always stand by his side?
Those were the questions he always asked himself. He already heard a lot of stories but his favorite was about the heroes who fought with no regard for their lives. He clung to every word as he listened with great passion. It always filled him with enthusiasm. It made him want to be one of those heroes so bad that he would pretend to be one everyday.
He would brandish a rifle around the village, a toy made of scrap wood, while playing with his friends. Every re-enactment made him feel that everything was real, that he was a real hero and his friends were companions in defeating invaders.
It was only a group of kids pretending to fight off invaders, until one day…
It wasn't.
A meteor fell from the sky, too fast for normal eyes to follow. One landed in the village square with thunderous explosion and everything started to burn. It was followed by two- three- more meteors until counting became unnecessary. The buildings became flaming ruins. Soldiers came in from the seaside and shot people, ordinary civilians who were only farmers and fishers. The serenity he always desired to keep vanished in less than a day.
Someone… Anyone…
He wanted to call out but no words came. He hid inside a closet out of fear. The image of his father lying on a pool of blood and his mother dragged out by soldiers like an animal intensified his fear. He crawled out and peered at the window. A small lone figure in the middle of the chaos, his friend, carrying a toy gun, stood his ground the same way he always did whenever they played.
One shot to the neck and he dropped, blood spraying out like a fountain. A soldier came near and repeatedly shot his incapacitated body until his face and chest were turned into something grotesque… a lump of flesh on the cold bloody ground.
Someone… Anyone…
Where were the heroes who fought valiantly against the enemy? What was the point to all of those stories if no one came in the most critical moment? Why did he idolize them every single day?
So many questions filled his head.
He asked himself one last question before getting dragged in the darkness of abyss.
'What is a hero?'