It was at night when Ethan had the most tragic experience ever in his life. He had just turned six that day and the only present he would accept was to go on patrol with his father, the second-in-command of the great army of Yonder.

Being in times when wars could easily break out, especially when the 5th prince of the Empire was assassinated in Yonder, the mother of Ethan lamented in disagreement. But Barak, the man of the house, a father who would hunt down a dragon on the whim of his son, agreed saying, "Laila, I am the second-in-command for a reason, you know? Or you deem me toothless? (DISAPPOINTING SIGH) No need to worry. If it makes you better, Fayak will be going with us".

As if on cue, a strong knuckle knocked the wooden door. A bald-headed man in metal armor and a humongous sword strapped to his back waltzed in. "Are you ready?" he asked.

"Ah, Fayak! You are here. Let me call my son so we leave." He moved to a nearby door and called out, "son, bring my gear so we may leave."

In about a minute or two, a small boy in an over-sized metal chest-plate walked in. He pulled along with all his might a shield thrice his size and a sword twice his height. "Father," he called in such an innocent tone.

"Ethan, we leave now," Barak said.

Ethan had a smaller body than that of an average six-year-old. He looked younger, thinner and weaker. It was one of the reasons why his mother rioted against his birthday wish. He looked so weak that one would think that even the sneeze of an ant could shift him.

Laila went to her son and snatched the sword and shield from the boy's hands. She went to Barak and dumped them into his hands whispering, "if anything happens to my son, I swear I will cut it off if you ever want another!" She left the room.

"You look like you've seen the devil," Fayak teased from the door.

"If I did, I would be the one ruling hell now," Barak threw back.

"Ha-ha-ha! You will never change, Barak. And I guess you wear no armor because you fear no steel."

"You know me well, Fayak. I fear no god, nation, man, demon, monster, steel nor magic. And someday…" Barak turned to Ethan with a proud smile, "…so will my son, once he learns to be a man."

"Let us wait for that day then. Now come. Let us move to the rendezvous point. We have to get there while the sun burns."

The two and a half men left. Just moments after horses neighed, Laila rushed back into the room with a wooden dagger in hand panting out, "wait… wait! Ethan forgot the dagger…" It was too late.

That was the last Yonder heard of the two warriors, Barak and Fayak. Six years later, weak and unwelcoming pounds were being made on a wooden door.

"Coming!" a weak motherly voice said from within the house. An energetic but saddened woman walked out a room and made her way to the front door. She opened and there stood a young girl, about fifteen years of age with a face soaked in sweat and worry.

"Madam Laila, it's—it's Ethan! He got into a fight again," the girl alarmed.

"(SIGH) Maria, wipe the worry off, will you. Why is this sort of thing still worrying you? The outcomes will always be the same," Laila said without a pint of care. "So, where is the fight."

In a few moments Laila had arrived in the market with Maria. It looked like a town buried in nowhere in the middle of a desert. Maria led her further into the market where the fight was. There was a huge crowd gathered round as the fight unfolded. Children and the elderly all cheered the fighters on.

"Those savages!" Laila grinned. "They won't even try and stop two boys biting at each other's throats".

She made her way towards the crowd and as she did, all who saw her paved a way for her. She opened her right palm and covered her countenance with it. Just like magic, a strong gush of wind puffed from behind her blowing her dark and grey hair to cover her face and sand all over. She used the right hand in her face to move the hair back as the wind appeased. Her face was left off behind a white mask making only her eyes visible.

"SHE WORE IT!" a random man alarmed and, in a twinkle, the crowd decamped leaving the two kids. They all went back to their works as if none of that was happening.

"Go away mom!" the tiny boy in the sand commanded. "I don't need your help!"

"You better accept her help now that she is here because I am done holding back," the other who stood tall and mighty wearing a hood said.

Laila walked closer to the two, with each step blowing sand away like the exploding of a small bomb.

"Ethan, you promised no more fights!" she echoed.

"And you promised I could do whatever I wanted on my birthday!" the rascal replied. "Plus, I couldn't let this bastard call father a traitor."

"Trait—" Laila staggered in her speech, "traitor or not, this fight is over, and you will apologize to that boy right now!"

Ethan stared at his mother's masked face for a moment. His eyes were steaming with rage and disappointment but then he finally gave in. He got back to his feet wincing momentarily with pain.

"Hey, you!" Ethan called out to the other. "My father is not a traitor. If anyone is, it is you and all the rest of these losers."

"ETHAN!" Laila and the heavens roared with thunder. "I said apologize, not insult!"

The thundering skies sent almost the whole market hiding under tables and the likes. Some begun to run indoors but Ethan stood his grounds still starring at Laila with disappointment and rage berth from betrayal.

"Why should I be the one to be sorry when I was only defending father's honor?" the tiny mischief asked.

His question left all what was left of the entire market in awe. "That boy could lick the scythe of Death if he stood before his eyes," they murmured. "To speak with utter disrespect to the Gale, Zephyr's chosen, he must have nuts of steel. She might be his mother but not even I would dare defy her."

"He probably got that from his traitorous father!" another supposed.

Meanwhile, Maria stood from afar and watched them—Ethan, Laila, and the child in the hood. She wanted to walk in and take Ethan's side but her limbs were crippled with fear of Laila and the what ifs. Even for a child of her caliper who Laila was like an aunt to, she still wouldn't dare defy when she was serious, especially when Barak was mentioned.

Maria kept viewing from afar, but half her attention was on Ethan. He turned to Maria and his furious eyes met the pleading ones of Maria. Maria shook her head in a manner that was just so obvious what was meant to be said.

Ethan turned away and looked at his ex-opponent. He bowed in apology and then ran off pass Laila and then pass Maria. The mask on Laila's face suddenly blew away like dust revealing her sad and teary eyes, and she walked to the other child.

"Boy, let me also apologize on behalf of my son," she bowed and the child took a step back in shame and shock. "It would be of great help if you could show me your parent so I may apologize in a healthier manner."

"No—no," the child said. "Please, don't bow to the likes of me. Your son's apology was plenty. And also, my parents are nowhere near here."

"What?" her face became all serious.

"Explain yourself, boy."

"And I am not a boy," she took off the hood. "I am a girl named, Zoe, Zoe Hayman."

Laila muddled she asked, "Hayman? What is a 1st class noble doing all the way down here in the deserts of Senebkay?"