A little boy lay in his deathbed, his mother by his side. All his life, he dreamed of going into the battlefield like his father and dying a brave death, and getting to go to Warrior’s heaven, and that dream was being ripped out of him because of an illness. “It’s not fair, mama. I wanted to die in battle, and have glory and honor and everything you said father would have now! It’s not fair! I’m weak, mama. I’m gonna die from a sickness, and not in battle like father.” He tried to sit up in anger, but fell back and had a coughing fit. His mother smiled sadly, tears in her eyes. She stroked his hair, sighing. “My sweet baby… You won’t die from this illness. A mother’s love is stronger than any illness. But, if you were to die… You’d still go with your father. You would have died fighting. Fighting your body, and the demons inside it who want a poor child to die.” (pt 1,)