Zelo remembers his life before being Zelo, the bringer of war and triumph. The bringer of chaos. He remembers his mother and her soft, honey-like voice, how she smelt like the sweetest of flowers like roses or daffodils. He remembers how she seemed to float around and a bright, sunny smile was always on her face. Winter shied away from her brightness and the Spring was welcomed early. But he remembers most that his mother was protective.

"Junhong, stay where I can see you!"
"Junhong don't wander off with any strangers"
"Tell me where you are going and who you are going with"
 

They lived in the countryside, surrounded by fields of emerald and gold, flowers blossoming everywhere and the animals lively and friendly. There were flowing streams than ran across the valley and their warm cottage looked over the forest. Zelo had no clue who his father was, apparently he left his mother after a wild night and never knew of Zelo's existence, but regardless of this his mother still hid her precious son from the cruel world and his unknown father. He lived within a bubbled home, within a bubbled world of a bubbled universe, never knowing anything of the injust humanity just outside his doorstep.

He remembers, very clearly, at the very top of the sloping hill the cherry orchard spread across there was a huge cherry blossom tree. There he would sit, overlooking the pink and red orchard, how it led into the green shrubbery dotted with his mother's variety of flowers, then how further on was golden stalks of corn reaching towards the sky, singing their blessings to the warm sun, thanking it for the same growth spurt Zelo would recieve.

"Jun. Hong!" A voice calls, and he snaps his brown eyes towards the source, his mother. She wore a pretty frock and he immediately stood, abandoning his ukulele at the top of the hill and sprints down the hill. His long legs carrying him and eventually he ended up rolling down with a scream. Stopping at his mother's feet and he looks up to the woman, "Dinner is ready, dear" she smiles, helping her sun up, then her thumb and wiping the dirt off his scrunched up face.

They then walk back to the cottage, a large one but the insides reminding you of a grandmother's cottage in the fairy glenn. Inside the house was dimly lit with the golden glow of candles and the fire roared within its stone confinements, a pot of what Junhong can only assume is tea being heated above it. 
He sits at the small table, a meagle bread and vegetable soup set out for him, with fruit salad as a dessert. No complaints, except that he longed for cherry tomatoes above all things. As he ate he overheard the conversation between his mother and her friend, a florist by the name of Mrs Moon.
"All the roads are out?" His mother asks exhasperated.
"Aye, some idiot caused an accident, horses bolted and the trailer tipped, haybales all over the side of the road" 
"How will we get our bread and trade...? I just finished the last loaf" his mother trails off grumbling to herself.
Then Mrs Moon groans, "Send Junhong, he's strong and fit, he's old enough to fend for himself and the w