Every day, the boy Jacobo saw the heroes training on the mountain. Running, jumping, fighting with sticks and swords and spears.
Jacobo knew he could never be one of them. He was born with a shriveled left arm – how could he hope to hold a shield? A hero without a shield is nothing, he could never form a shield wall!
One frosty, windy morning, the Dark Wizard awoke from his long slumber and set the mountain on fire with one waggle of his index finger, and all the heroes turned to ash.
And Jacobo thought, “I’d rather be a wizard.”
Author’s Note: Being a wizard means less cardio.