Chapter 1.

I had a very quiet childhood at Sao Paulo, Brazil, where I was born on January 5th, 1872. I was lucky enough to have a rich family and more care than I would ever need. For some reason known only to mothers, mine always protected me beyond need, to the point that I reached puberty without even a single scar. The area that would later be known as Avenida Paulista, where my family had a large quinta, was a very pacific neighborhood, not the pandemonium it is today. As a result, I reached adulthood without even one exchange of punches or kicks in my records. Being born from the Aristocracy, I did not have the experiences with the pro-republican movements that many less fortunate young men at those days were engaged in. I had exemplary grades at all the academic institutions that I had passed through, and, as all male members of my family, committed very soon to Law School.

A very ordinary life for the rich Brazilian society standards, it was about to change drastically. The year was 1892, the month December, when the same republicans were still rejoicing from their recent victory against Monarchy. I was 20 years old, and I was on my senior year at college. Those were difficult days for the old families trying to uphold some of their status from two decades earlier. Some before tranquil areas were now starting to raise apprehension for the increasing crime incidents. As I noticed on that night.
I was going back home, on the habitual shortcut that crossed a portion of undeveloped, abandoned land. My mother used to warn me on the perils of using it, but the absence of earlier problems always made me go for the 10 minutes of walk it saved me. On that night, though, it did not save me time.

I remember those next few minutes as if it was yesterday. When I met the first set of eyes that would change my life. They were not purple, but had their own magic too. Of a light brown, bathed from the distance by the street’s bonfires, their sight would put a very beautiful end to my busy day, were they not reflecting a panic one could not ignore.

The panic did certainly relate to the evil stare of three men who seemed to have a very clear intent. It was easy to notice they were not waiting for an allowance from the young woman. With hormones surging, and surprising myself, I jumped in their midst in a split second. For my sake, they were surprised as well.

Oddly enough, my oak cane, the closest to a pet my father would ever allow me to have, turned to be a deadly weapon in my inexperienced, but determined hands. Before the first of them could react, it smashed his skull with a loud thump, making my arms shake at the impact. The body had not reached the ground yet when I ran for the next man. However, I did not have surprise at my side anymore, and, this time, strong hands reached for the cane before it could inflict any damage. The sudden stop made me lose the balance, and, with a second swing of those hands on the cane, my face met the mud stained with blood.

They were quick, and I felt an excruciating pain on my back. The cane had changed sides, to the desperation of my now broken ribs. I did not feel the next hit, or for that matter, any of the ones that followed.