I would lie had I said that I did not saw a monster, it was my duty to hunt them, not to raise them.

It was the first day of Aprilis, unlike the year Dawnovin was born in, Spring was in full bloom.

This day, the second day of the week, the day of Mars, something happened. The child’s forth birthday was just two days prior and already he was the tallest among his two year seniors. It was evident that he had been born with the Half-Giant Talent and at least a number of other Talents that offset his physical capabilities. Otherwise, I would not know the child should be extraordinary.

With his height and strength he would be a danger to any of his juniors, once he would be old enough to understand his might, that would be another matter.

Helinia was pregnant with our second child, one could already notice the belly, the monk says she is due sometime in Sixtilis. The changes from forlorn bliss to dreadful sadness did exhaust her heavily, but Dawnovin was a kind soul and was by her side and helped her whenever he could. A genuinely kind boy he was, he could grow to have a noble character, so I believed.

On that day he was playing with the other boys, some kids from the guards, all at least six years old. I was keeping an eye on them, should they become to rowdy. They played with sticks for weapons, sturdy little branches they found at the stream. After one the boys had almost lost an eye to the splinters, Konrad and I took to prep them, so such injuries could be avoided.

Dawn, to my smugness was his nickname among all children and adults, was in a scuffle with Gulliver’s second son, his name was George. They played with their make-believe swords, exchanged some blows, and even tried to sound fanciful as the heroes of some children stories.

George seemed to have picked up some swordplay from his father and brother, a few nice fencing strikes, though the branch was to front-heavy for the needed dexterity, still he did well. Dawn reacted well, he instinctively extended his ‘sword’ forward and rotated his body away, to create distance between his body and the ‘enemy’, despite the front-heavy stick he easily rotated his wrist to deflect the strikes, he looked a bit like Robs. Strike for strike, they kept at it, George even tried some faints, but Dawn was always just fast enough to catch George’s sword in a bind again.

Both the boys were competitive and I could see the joy in it written all over their faces, the boys around cheered and threw in some ‘advice’ like “Hit his hand!”, “Stab him!” and one of them always shouted “You have him!” but I was not sure which one he cheered for.

Suddenly Dawn, after quite vigorously knocking aside another faint, stepped in far and supported his lunge with his off-hand and stabbed with all his might towards George’s stomach. George instantly took to cradling his gut and looked to fall over at the same, but I could see the fire lit in Dawnovin’s eyes, he took the opportune moment, retreated his weapon to wind up for a follow up strike straight for George’s head.

I started to run up to the runts as soon the lunge succeeded but was not fast enough to intercept the follow up strike. George fell wordlessly to the ground, and Dawn again raised his weapon high to beat down on his opponent, and so I yelled “That’s enough! Dawn! Stop that!” He raised his head to my words and I could see a mixture of eagerness and anger transform to confusion and horror.

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I snatched the branch from Dawn’s hand threw it far away, I crouched down to George and could hear him breathing and faintly moaning. I picked him up and took to jog to the monk.

The boys followed and Dawn repeatedly voiced his apologies “I am sorry! I did not mean to hit him again! It was an accident! I did not want to hurt him! I am sorry father! Please father, you must believe me! I did not mean to hit him!” I could hear the sorrow in his voice and the at a glace towards him tears ran down his face. The boy seemed convinced he close to killed his friend.

George had bled from the head and was knocked out cold, still some moans escaped his mouth so I was not to worried.

When I kicked in the door, and dislodged one of the hinges in the process, the monk started, he screamed in fright at me “What is happening?! Who? Joen? Why must you vandalize my door?!”

“Helebran! The boy was hit hard on the head and fell unconscious! He needs aid, quickly!”

“AH! Lay him down there.” He pointed to a bench with an open window close by and I did as he said and delicately laid down the boy. The man looked him over and gently touched the boys head, feeling about “I can feel, the skull having fractured around the wound, a yes, good I sense no splinters!” He took to the cabinet at the wall, from the shelf he retrieved a ceramic vial with some yellow flower marked on it. Cleansing the wound with a clean sheet of cloth he poured over the vial’s liquid. A hissing sound could be heard I could see the wound close.

“The bleeding is stopped, the scar will remain, but boys need them anyways.” He reached for a drawer held another vial to his eyes and read the label, only to discard the one he held and grab another. “That’s the one. Pour a spoon full of this into some nettle tea, and the fracture will be healed by the end of the week. Now I also sensed his liver took quiet the damage, I would suggest some barley bread with chive-blossoms and butter with some of this diluted Marigold-Potion to wash it down, and he shouldn’t feel a thing tomorrow, or the day after. Depending when he gets to ingest my prescriptions.”

“Helebran, you are a lifesaver! Though, would you mind writing that down? I fear I would not relay it as concise as you did, to his mother.” “Yes, yes.”

Despite the relief that George would be fine I dreaded to face my son. What had gotten into him? Why would he go for a killing blow.

I walked up to Dawnovin, standing in front of him, he raised his head to face me. As soon he opened his mouth to speak, I slapped him hard enough that he fell to the ground. As his eyes were locked on the ground my disappointment was evident and a feeling of disgust welled within me, is he innate to violence, is he truly evil. NO! I saw his remorse, I felt the genuine fear he had for his friend, but he did ready himself to end Geroge’s life. Why was that?

I made the connection, something Robs once told me when he talked about another gifted he had met. A man born in the month of the War-God, he was blessed to fight without tiring but was also cursed to revel in bloodlust. Robs told me the man was trained to suppress the urge for the right moment, to do so only in the heat of battle and not in a spar or training.

A blessing must come with a price, that was the nature of the divine Talents we, mankind had received. Dawnovin is kind, but he is also one blessed by Mars, so his might in battle is great and so will his desire to see blood be its equal.

Am I capable in training my own son, to discipline him when he needs to. What I just did was an exception. I will never hit him like that again. I need help. Dawn needs help.