Don't know what I was thinking when I wrote this. Just waxing weirdly philosophical about stuff, and that gave me the idea for this. Read it, and...well, the rest is up to you.

Once there was a boy. The boy lived in a small suburban town. It doesn't matter which town; it could be any town. It could be you town. The boy went to school, hung out with his friends, skateboarded, played basketball.
He was relatively normal--he played a lot of video games, RPG stuff. But sometimes, late at night, when the boy couldn't get to sleep, he would wonder. He would wonder about life, about what would happen to him, about purposes. He went through high school, college. He was altogether a normal person. He graduated from a state college, married the girl he'd taken to the prom, settled down in a suburb with a normal job in a office in the city. He retired at sixty-five, and lived several more long years, dying at the age of seventy-eight. Throughout this life, he walked the path society had left for him--your typical office worker bee, a mindless drone. In all his life he never handled a sword or shield, he never touched a bow, he not once slew anything. But every once in a while, staying up at night, he would wish he had. He would wish just once for a chance at greatness. He led a normal life, but he kept a warrior's dreams hidden away in his heart. So when he died, this typical man did not go to any of the normal afterlives.

Because of his dreams, the man was one of the Warrior Souls.