Life is ironic.

Look, I get it. The universe is big one ironic punishments, and so on, but this is ridiculous. The Hero living with the villain as his ward? This is an absolute disaster waiting to happen... But this is what I am living...

Worst part, is that I did it under my own will...

He came one night. Dry tears in his face, bruised and dirty... He was beaten by something or someone.

A loud knock in the door of my citadel, the guard lets him in... I must fire that guard for that security breach...

And so I have in front of me the soiled and crying hero, the destined one that will put an end to my “villainy”.

Between sobs he explains me everything. He, as the hero, ends tired from fighting my armies and independent creatures that roam the surroundings of his village; and so ends tired. But some people do not understand that...

He mentions his parents. And my stomach drops... I wish to believe that they aren’t related to this situation...

But again, the universe loves to defy our hopes and expectations.

They wanted him to harvest the wheat fields, at those hours in the night.

What?

Who in their right mind do that?

And he continues saying that he would do that first hour in the morning. And it is a sensible idea, I admit.

Seems that being sensible is now reserved to the villains.

Those oafs kill the poor partner of the young man in front of me. A dog...

I feel one nerve about to snap, and then the young man serves me another horrid truth bomb.

He breaks in tears in front of them, because of the love he felt for that canine. He adopted it when it was a pup. And the parents take it as weakness.

After doing, morosely, the chore; he comes back... to find his father with a belt.

I can hear the confusion in the poor man’s voice... He didn’t do anything wrong to deserve punishment. But again, the universe loves defying our expectations.

The young man kept one little secret. He was in love... But there was no fair maiden that had smitten him. No, it was another boy. I believe that he gave the name of his right hand.

Personally, I couldn’t care any less... I want to put order, not install the most ridiculous restrictions in the lives of every person in the world. But this?

To beat you progeny, only because you don’t understand who they love? Or why they love?

... I will have to pencil a public torture of those dimwits...

But on pressing matters, what should I do with the young man?

Kill him? Imprison him?

I choose none... And for one, I feel like an absolute idiot. But again, this is ironic...

I am the one protecting the hero from their moronic parents...