I will never forget the day I was born. I did not have a normal birth like any child of the Romanian Kingdom. I was born because of a mother who ate an enchanted apple of a wizard, who is in a way, my father. He planted me in that apple using his blood, a spell to my poor soul remain in that apple, and gave it to a poor woman who wanted a baby but couldn't because no one wanted to marry her since everyone she meets they consider her ugly, dumb and lazy. My mother took a bite of that apple, after which she woke up the next day with a big belly. My mother panicked that day, went to the healers and wizards of the Kingdom, and they told her that she was pregnant, which she could not believe that that trick worked this easily.
The next day, my mother gave birth to me in her house, which was only a few logs used as a roof, and a few curtains or carpets used as a bed, she lived like that because she had no family around her or a neighbor to help her because she behaved like an arrogant woman.
When my mother gave birth to me, she cut her cord using a knife she had on the dirty floor, which is sand. Just as it was time to cut the cord, something strange happened, the cord began to tear itself to pieces. I didn't realize how it broke because back then I was a baby, but I heard that from the rumors around the street and the people who took care of me later, but I could cry like any newborn baby.
That's all my mother could tell me before she died, because she passed away three weeks later. How do I remember all of that? She always tells this as a story to make me go to sleep on the cold and warm nights. The reason she died is not known, but I can assume that Apple had some kind of side effect. After her death, an unknown man, dressed like a wizard, with his hood hiding the face, and a staff on his back, took me from that house, and he send me to the closest Orphanage I can live for the next ten years.
The nuns at that Orphanage let me in and promised they will take care of me while I am going to grow up.
I lived there for ten happy years with the nuns who were taking care of me and a few kids who I played all day when we had our play time. Those ladies who took care of me asked about my name, where my mother was, or if I still had family members. At that time, I was still too young to tell them my mother and everything else I do know.
While I was at the orphanage, the ladies there named me Judas, others were calling me Judah, then later over the years I was called Judah Judas, and registered me as a person of the Romania Kingdom. Being now a person of that Kingdom, I must follow, to make money to live here. In this Kingdom, there is a law that must be strictly followed because the punishment is executed by the guillotine in front of the whole Kingdom. That law is to pay about a hundred coins every week to live in this kingdom. For some, it is not much, but for a little boy who was thrown from the Orphanage at the age of ten and without parents it is a lot. Why I got thrown out? That is the rule of this kingdom.
If you are ten years old, you have nothing to look for in the Orphanage because that is the age when you can work as a squire or work as an apprentice in a blacksmith shop, as a cook, or as a worker in agriculture. And I chose probably the hardest job considered for a boy at my age of ten, that of squire because I aspire to be someone strong as the heroes from the novels I have read from my time in the Orphanage.
And this is my beginning of my story. The beginning of Judah Judas Gremory.