It happened a long, long time ago, in the age known as The Dark Age. When humanity just barely began colonizing these lands, only started to use magic and steel, and were about to use that to fight against each other for territory and wealth. Those trying times were also a cradle for many heroes and legends. This is one of them.

Let us start with a young man, whose birth name got lost to time. Everyone simply called him Surgeon. Ah, would you not like to find out why?

If so, then, imagine a small, quiet village…

Sunlight basked the verdant hills, played among the shingled clay roofs and dried the freshly washed laundry. The clucking of plump chickens and children's laughter rang all the way from the well and to the nearby lake. Lovely ladies and lads would gather to cool down and chatter by the water, sharing the fresh rumors and gossip. One particular gossip was about a familiar face making a comeback after a prolonged absence.

Despite those seemingly halcyon days, a shadow loomed over the remote hamlet. It was invisible to the naked eye, yet painfully obvious to one man in particular. This man had finally returned from a long and perilous journey after an even longer and most arduous years of study to become a scholar and a mage. An adept user of healing magic. He had hope – a glimmer of it, at least – that he did not spend all of that time for nothing. Yet, the journey to knowledge was much too long. He was running late.

The young mage settled in his family home, which stood silent, empty and dusty. Opening the door and the windows was like opening up the old wounds. The village, the house, the memories, they carried with them both hope and dread.

It never stopped while he was here, nor did it stop while he was away. Something was causing the people to go well before their time. No one could tell why. The knowledge available, the collections of herbs and the help from the nearby villages, all were powerless to remedy the situation.

One by one, everyone who he knew and loved were falling, most now gone.

Soon enough, it came down to someone very special to him. By then he had to know what was going on. He simply had to. So he did the unthinkable.

Tears streamed down the young man's face as he studied the shell which once was his dear friend. He opened and read it, not unlike a book, a tome full of dark, forbidden knowledge. Only then did he learn the truth. The painful truth of the darkness of the human heart. It had solidified within, forming a black lump that did not let life flow freely any longer.

As time went on, he had witnessed it again and again. The suffering, the silence where the heartbeat should have been heard, the grief and the lost hopes. Through much effort and peril, he may not have learned why this illness occurred even within good-natured people, but he had found out something just as important – how to clear it out, before it was too late.

Rumors surged and spread far and wide about this weird, yet potent craft. Where, instead of magic or herbs, a man would cure the hearts with his very hands. Thus, a nickname was born: Surgeon.

A kind soul, Surgeon kept trying, kept doing his best. He dreamt of helping, healing, and treating everyone in need. Still young, still learning, he was dead set on honing his craft. Yet, eventually, an inevitable thing happened.

He failed.

Once, then twice. His confidence and hands shaken, he failed again and again. As one can imagine, these failures were not taken lightly. More and more people, those that once greeted him with hope, now stricken by grief and blinded by anger, were scolding him, badmouthing him. They lost all faith in him, threatening to take the man's life for the lives that they believed he had cut short. Crushed by the weight of the hate and the sorrow, he was forced to flee.

Away, away from his homeland, he ran and ran. Until he arrived at the grounds of a newfound kingdom. Driven to despair by guilt, by hunger, his only hope was that he won't have to deal with his past any longer.

We all know, however, that rumors run faster than a man. A pair of strong hands found him withering away in some dark alleyway and pulled him up. Much too exhausted to resist, head hung low, awaiting whatever more peril fate had in store for him, he got dragged across the streets. Then up a lengthy set of stairs, through sparkling clean corridors, and finally tossed down onto a fancy carpet.

The young mage had propped himself up and saw the man he had only seen on the rare glimpse of golden coins. King Gron.

What could he have possibly wanted with him? To mock him for his failures? To enact revenge from a distant relative he had failed to save? At that point, he was prepared for the worst, yet, it was when luck finally smiled upon him.

The king ordered the young one to stand up. His presence commanded respect, but also, somehow, it provided comfort. In a soft, deep voice, King Gron explained that word had reached him, of a man who can heal the hearts from within the body itself, and he wanted to confirm himself how true these words are.

He listened with patience, taking in the story of a young healer, and it struck a chord with him. He offered his friendship and protection in exchange that Surgeon would continue to save lives, but now in his kingdom instead.

Finding solace in being needed, Surgeon agreed and became the royal doctor. He mustered the courage to prove his worth, save more people, obtain his place in life.

You may ask why this story is relevant here? Well…

There was another dream of his which he would pursue. A drive to understand the very nature of the darkness within the heart. Is there a way to prevent such an ailment from occurring? He wondered. Could one go through cleansing and become a better person as a result, with a heart more pure and light? Is it possible that such a procedure would not only allow the people to live longer, but also extend magical prowess beyond the limits of simple human beings?

After years and years of hard work, of failure, of trial and error, which, however, had not broken his determination, he succeeded. He created an artifact full of magical formulas, so complex, that they shaped themselves into a solid sphere. He then performed a life-risking act of taking part of his own soul, infusing the sphere with it, and testing the artifact on himself. His body and the color of his soul melted away and rebuilt him anew. A daring human was no more.

The very first monster emerged that day.

Happy, healthy, with heart white and pure as the newly driven snow, and scales red as sunset, he was perfect. Even the King accepted his new, extraordinary form, for they grew close over the years spent trying to improve the lives of common people. They believed in each other and that it was their time to shine.

Except not everyone was happy with the king's rule. No matter how prosperous the kingdom was, there would always be those who are not satisfied. A riot was brewing in the shadows and a group of rugged folk were about to make their move.

That one fate-shaping night, there was an attempted murder. Surgeon found Gron barely alive in his bed. He tried to help him, but it was already too late.

Holding his king tightly, in one last hug, he did not even realize as the soul slipped out of the limp body and fused with his own. His body began to change and within his own mind he heard his dear friend's booming laughter once more.

From that moment forth, they became one person. A king and a doctor, a mage and a warrior, a human and a monster – all in one. They defeated the uprising, as it was drowned in shock and flames when the castle greeted them with a living, fire-breathing dragon. Then they reclaimed the throne, continuing to rule and to cure their people.

The humans who could not be cured were turned into monsters by using the sphere. Even some healthy people volunteered to become the first of the new kind.

For hundreds of years, one, who had become known as Segron, ruled in peace. They were beloved for how kind, fair, and wise they were. Their people even gave them another name – Two Wise or, sometimes, jokingly, Too Wise, which then was shortened into Tuwise.

The years of Segron Tuwise were both the dawn and the golden age for the kingdom of humans and monsters. Those times were full of new discoveries, new hopes, and new threats looming upon the horizon.

But that, young ones, is a completely different story.