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The Devious Plots of the Hero
Prologue: The Birth of a Hero

Prologue: The Birth of a Hero

A hero is made by circumstance, particularly tragedy. Which is perfect for me as I lost an entire world to an apocalypse. At least it looked like one. In truth I only saw the beginning of the end. The earth cracking, meteors falling, lava filling the streets, people screaming, and a woman’s laughter coming from the sky, and that was just in the ten seconds I managed to survive. Not sure what actually took me out in all that fun and excitement. However, after a brief stay in the afterlife, I am now fully functioning in a new life in a genuine fantasy world.

I was now born the son of woodcutters, and lived a carefree happy life. I ran and played in the wild wonders of the forest. Occasionally I spotted a strange, yet harmless animal. Returning home before dusk or faced the wrath my parents used to mask their inherent worry. My father was the strict type and used the old school discipline methods of childrearing. Most modern families from my old world had moved past corporal punishments, but despite the outdated discipline, and occasionally sore behind, I could tell he did care deeply for his children and wife. Mother was a bit of a pushover in all honesty. She followed him and never questioned his dreams in life. Only quietly fulfilling them and keeping the family functioning in her thankless yet strangely happy role. A oddly too “traditional” coupling of people. They complimented each other nicely.

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Unfortunately they had to go out with an extra corpse. The more romantic option would have been a simple double homicide, without the tag along third-wheel. Oh well, to be honest I had not thought this current scenario out fully. Sometimes you just have to take full advantage of an unlucky thief.

I could hear the metal clomping of the guard captain climbing up the dirt path to the hut. Sure enough I will soon have what I want. After just a little traumatized act, some questioning, and a little counseling, they will have to send me and my baby brother to the orphanage. The possibility still exists that my parents were holding out on me and we will be sent to some distant relative. Either, or, the first step of the path to glory is complete.

After all, all heroes are orphans.

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