What makes a hero?
Is it selfless sacrifice for the good of the many?
Is it fighting the just fight?
Is it the slaying of a dragon?
The liberation of a people?
Can one be a hero, if they�ve only saved one soul?
One life?

Do I want to be a hero?

They call out my name and write me songs,
They come to me for help and protection.
They call me a hero.
Because I saved them.
Because I drew my sword and faced the darkness without hesitation.
Was I afraid? Yes.
Did I cower? No� why not?
Why did I put my life at risk for people I didn�t know?
People who didn�t know me?
Because they are MY people.

They are those who can�t fight for themselves,
They are farmers, merchants, children, mothers, and elders.
And if I would not take a stand for them,
No one would.

I didn�t fight for them because I wanted glory.
I didn�t fight for them because they are good people,
They�re not. They are thugs and thieves and troublemakers,
Just as much as they are honest, hard-working, caring people.
I didn�t even fight the darkness because my goddess bids me to,
Even though I could feel her presence and her light in my heart.
I didn�t fight because I had to,
I fought because I could.
I fought for them.
I fought for the unborn children,
I fought for the weak and unprotected,
I fought to quench the unshed tears.

They call me a hero,
They try to give me food, money and whatever else they can spare, and sometimes even more than that.
I accept a little of it, because I don�t want to hurt their feelings,
But my real reward
Is the smile in the children�s eyes.

Am I a hero? I don�t know.
But if these people need one, I�ll play the part.