He couldn't be different at home than at work. Or couldhe? I was avoiding him. He was what I was afraid of becoming, not that Dadwas bad to me. Or Mom... But he was different.One morning I was embarrassed and scared to death. My thing, I hated itthe most, it was enormous big and hard. I knew from other boys in the gymlockers it was named 'woody'. It meant I was entering puberty and shortlyI will be hairy all over and I'll sound the same as my Dad.Before this happened I prayed everyday that it. "A mage helped too, if I am not mistaken."Khadijah smiled, "Leave it to an old Warrior to be able to tell one Heal spell from another just by having it cast on him! I helped a little, old friend." Thank you, My Primogeness, I am not worthy." I bowed again."Isn't it ironic that you spend your days with young Mages and Warriors," Khadijah mused, "Teaching them to see their own self worth, when you cannot even see your own?"Blaster had been saying much the same thing for a decade; somehow it. More

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