• Most people go through life not knowing what they are meant to do in this world. I wasn’t afforded that luxury. From the day I was born to the moment these words are being written and beyond, I have known my lot in life.

    By now your wondering what this purpose is, and some of the more imaginative of you are already spinning ideas through your head. But no matter how I present it to you, you’re not going to believe me. You’ll label this fiction, a fantastic tale written by a master of invention or a delusional lunatic’s ravings. Instead of the autobiography it is. So instead wasting my breath trying to convince you of the simple facts of my life, I’m merely going to dive right into my story. Believe whatever little of it you choose to.

    I was born on a night as black as coal, when neither stars nor moon showed. The night I was born, I was left on the church steps. Alone the moment I entered the world, as if the cosmos had birthed me for the sole purpose of my light. A child born alone, to fight alone, and made to survive alone.

    I was found by the priest of the church. He took me in; a crying baby left out in the cold, and raised me. His kindness and fervor of protecting God’s children shaped the very fiber of my destiny.

    The name of the priest who found me was Father Timothy. He was a kindly old man who looked nothing like a priest. Father Timothy looked better suited for a dusty old library then a leader of someone’s faith. But there in lay his strengths. Father knew more about the bible and faith then any man I have yet to meet. But he didn’t just focus on reading the bible. He read every book and scroll that had to do with his devotion to the Christian religion. The abbey where we, and the brothers lived, had an enormous library pack to the brim as testament to his sheer hunger for knowledge on the subject. But it a until my 6th birthday that I found out the reason behind such a hunger and devotion for knowledge.

    Days at the abbey where the same day in and day out. We rose before the sun, prayed and communioned together in breakfast. After which Brother David and I would work in the garden for an hour, gathering ripe vegetables and herbs we would use later for supper. That was always the most peaceful part of the day, the part I look forward to the most. Quiet and relaxing, the rhythmic movement of the hoe as it turned the dirt.

    Following the lunch hour of prayer and communion I would spend the time studying with Father Timothy in the library. Lessons were never the same. Latin, Greek, Chinese, Icelandic, German, French, Spanish. Myths, legends, tales, stories. All were covered with nothing let out. I would sit for hours devouring everything Father Timothy would lay out in front of me, never counting on how important it would all be in the future. Even the lessons seemed made expressively for my purpose in life.

    After the supper hour the bell would ring and all the Brothers and I would gather for evening training. We studied, learned, and mastered 12 martial arts throughout my brief stay with the Brothers. Our abbey was a peaceful and loving one, but we believed that the way to a truly close relationship with God was through discipline of the mind, souls, and body. Father Timothy especially pushed the last one. Saying warriors of God must be prepared to fight his battle when called upon. How true those words were.

    The abbey’s routine was the same every day, except on the day the marked my birthday. Which was really the day the Father found me, a day he said was one of the most blessed of all. After lunch Brother Jones and Brother David would roll out a cake all a glow with candles. It was all a very embarrassing affair where he Brother would present me with a gift, but gifts more precious then things. Things like a poem, a bonsai tree, or a simple yet elegant home-made shirt. Things I’ve learned that outside of the abbot most people take for granted, but which have become more then valuable to me in my predestined course.

    My 6th birthday started out like every other one. Waking before the sun I had begun running before morning prayers the previous year on the suggestion of one of the Brothers, but what happened next was not in the ordinary. A flash of light and loud bang threw me to into a nearby tree.

    A painful throbbing followed as my vision slowly cleared. A shadowy figure slowly solidifying into an ugly creature. Three horns dominated its features as two yellow and bulging eyes glared out from a crumpled face. Flashing claws scraped the ground as it turned its eyes to fix them on me, its mouth showing rows of razor teeth. It leaped claws extended in what couldn’t be mistaken for anything but an attempt to kill, nothing but malice and contempt in it eyes. The last thing I remember of the first encounter was a searing pain and a hope for an end to it.