Three wishes

1898, Kastra village.

"Master! Master! I've learned another trick!" A human boy with a blessing of the saints says. He was a monk by birth, born to a monk. His name was Hannes, with no surname.

Kal Rogen sat below the tree, enjoying it's shade in the middle of the huge meadow. He was having an apple in his hand as his new disciple approached him.

"Show it to me." Kal says, smiling gently at the young soul.

"Here it is!" He excitedly shows the flame that emerges from his palm. None of the monks from his ancestral line could have done that at such a young age. Hannes can be named a child prodigy, easily.

"Good thing, Hannes. You have to train more." Says Kal to his disciple as he leaves with his swords. He had so, so many things to do around the village to protect the troops of monks scattered all over.

One fine day, Hannes grows up to be a saint at the age of forty. He's given up everything. He wandered like Kal, his own Master gave him an inspiration.