Wade is Mithras here

Petros wanted to be a hero. Not for fame or glory or anything that grand. He just wanted to make sure nothing like what happened to his uncle would happen to anyone else. But he was just a scrawny boy who liked reading, he wasn't a fighter.

And only a centaur could make him into a fighter. He was turned down by one centaur after another, and by the time he reached the most renowned school run by Stephanos and Antonius, he didn't even bother asking for their help. He simply asked if there was a centaur who didn't have nothing, and he meant absolutely nothing, better to do than to spare him some time.

Stephanos was reluctant to refer him to anyone assuring him it was for his own good, but as soon as he turned his back, Antonius told him to find Mithras. If Petros was at least half as smart as he thought he was, he would consider the wicked grin on centaur's face a warning. But he was desperate for any training.

His friend Ioanna gave (loaned!) him money for expenses and his aunt cried and hugged him tighter than usual, and so Petros went on his journey. He didn't mind the exhaustion or any kind of obstacles he encountered on his way. He was determined to become a hero, he couldn't give up, ever - he knew as much.

Mithras was not what Petros had expected, in any way. He was a disfigured outcast, a mercenary, banished for his crimes. Petros had never been so terrified in his life.

"I sure hope that you have money or a death wish," Mithras said, towering over Petros, his tail smacking his sides menacingly.

"I think I have both," Petros stammered, swallowing around a lump in his throat. "I mean I have some money, not much, but I have them, but I have to have a death wish too, why else would I be here, oh gods, what am I doing here, I must have been dropped on the head when I was small, please don't eat me."

Then, something incredible happened - Mithras laughed, he laughed with his whole body, loudly and sincerely, which made his scary face change then, and Petros wasn't afraid anymore.

Mithras agreed to train him, but he warned him that it wouldn't be anything like what Petros could imagine. Mithras wasn't a normal centaur; he was an immortal and a killer, he was cursed. His methods and moral code would leave Petros disgusted and broken, and he would never be respected in the world if anyone would to find out Mithras was his mentor.

Petros didn't care.

He didn't mind anything Mithras had him do, he would humbly accept every word of advice and scorn, he wouldn't even flinch at his teacher's taunting and teasing. He felt stronger, wiser, more powerful, more… responsible - for himself and others. Mithras helped him grow up, despite his own immaturity and childishness.

When the time to part and pay had arrived, Petros suspected another immoral proposition ("Are you sure you don't want to settle your fee by getting on this ride? I'm hung like a horse! Get it? Horse.") but that didn't happen. Mithras put his hand on Peter's shoulder and beamed, proud and happy.

"I trained you well. I think you're ready to pay your debt. I only want you to kill a monster for me, and you're free."

"Of course," Petros nodded eagerly. "Anything you want, I promise. What is this monster you want me to kill?"

Mithras smiled softly and stroked Petros' cheek. "Me."