After Zade’s death, Father decided to put me in training. He sent the best mentors to train me. I worked really hard because I wanted to become the strongest warrior; perhaps then my mother would be proud and would want to see me again.
What I didn’t know was that my father expected something different from me. He didn’t need me to become a warrior. He needed me to be a killer.
When I was ten years old, King Sebastian started a program where he would allow prisoners a chance to gain their freedom.
These were the worse sort of criminals—murderers, rapists, those that had robbed others violently. He made it seem so simple for them.
“Defeat my son, a little boy, and you will walk free.”
Of course, these hardened criminals had jumped at the chance. What would a ten-year-old do to stop them? Those monsters didn’t mind tearing a child apart in exchange for their freedom.
But it never happened that way.