With every day, I grew older. And wiser I hope. I came to that conclusion based on my thoughts. With every day, I found myself thinking more. And let me tell you. Thoughts can be very scary. Little changes, overheard gossip, all of it is dry tinder waiting for a spark. Like the rumors of war, and especially if you couldn't comprehend, its magnitude. Every little word, that presented numbers that were impossible for me to comprehend. Presented a topic, for my imagination. And it was bad.

A few days ago, when I heard the numbers. I wanted something to compare it to. How can a young man like myself, that knows of three streets? Within a rural village, that by all standards looked abandoned. Its economy and trade being nonexistent. Comprehend millions of people, in an area? And all of them fighting? It boggled my mind.

But those were big things. Small rumors, smaller than war. Did the same things, especially when you had nothing to do. It was hard. On one hand, when you had nothing to eat, you would have no energy as well. Your day would just pass by. And the only thought on your mind would be food. Will this be a day when I get lucky? Would I get a bronze coin, and have a feast? Will I be forced to try and steal? Just not that, the reciprocation of stealing, especially as a kid. That was the smallest, and I guess the youngest. Were terrible. If a rat tried to steal food? You would. At least I at that time, would try and catch it. It was food.

Well, they wouldn't eat me, but they would make sure that I wasn't able to steal, or catch food. If you thought about it, well it made sense. Food was scarce.

On the other hand, when you ate your fill? Fill is a bit much to call it. For me fill well, fill was one bread roll, if it was warm, ah the bliss. And a little bit of meat. For a meal? Of course not. That was a feast for the whole day. I would often try, and reward myself with one of those every month or two.

But yea fill, well it gave you energy if you are used to having three cups of water and some crumbs for the day. It was amazing. I would always want to move, do something. Try and salvage the same amount of food, or more. But alas it was much harder. Just trying wasn't enough.

So you are left with so much energy, in an abandoned street. With nothing to do. The only logical option left is. Thinking. And boy do young people have broad imagination.

Once as I was waiting behind the bread shop. There was a commotion, some well-dressed lady had a bad stomach after eating their food. She went on, on how she was forced to pay a doctor! One silver coin, and wanted the shop to reimburse her bill! I got scared enough to leave the shop, and starve that day.

Which turned out to be stupid. Apparently, as I have slept on dirt. Drank contaminated water. Well, let us say that some dirty bread, would do nothing to my stomach.

That was one mild example, of a young person growing up. Now imagine what outlandish rumors would do now. Awakening? Getting a out of this world opportunity to become someone. To make a name for oneself in these three streets, in this village even! Having meat with bread every day? Not having to starve, and hide. Pay attention to every single detail, with an empty stomach.

It sounded too good to be true. Becoming a healer, healing well-dressed people. Even that lady had a whole silver coin to spare, for a little stomachache. I could even buy a house, a way to wash myself.

Well, nothing in life is simple. Or free. Apparently, in the past 10 years, there was one beggar. He was lucky enough to get a class, that gave him an opportunity to move from this hell hole.

Apparently, he was never heard of again. If he was living a life, that to us was paradise, we did not know. But everyone wanted to be like him. To change, to do something. To be someone!

While thinking, was useful. You couldn't always come to the best conclusion on your own. I would never have thought of burying food under the fire, even cooking it. Ways of making fire. It was all a product of many people. Those that weren't scared of failure. Or well desperate enough to keep trying. And with our lack of conversation and lack of trust. Well without learning when, and what to pay attention to. Could change your life.

It was an art. Knowing how to look. Avoid being noticed. No one wanted to share, what they knew. At least not here. With such high competition. Knowing a way to get food, in a way that would guarantee, you wouldn't go a day, feeling hungry. Well, that was a treasure for us. And if it was known, well it was a well-kept secret.

The way that one would move, their posture. The way that they sat, or talked. Their face, if they smiled. And how they smiled. Arm position, the tenseness of their muscles.

In all their bearing. If you managed to spot those or at least some of them. It was a treasure. At least I looked at it that way.

If you managed to read the bearing of dressed people, you could usually tell. Who has a better chance of giving you a coin? Who would ignore you, or worse kick you aside like trash?

I was unique in that way. The more I paid attention, the more I noticed. How little people around me thought about it. Or even tried to read people. It confused me, it was so useful. At least to me. Even if it gave you a ten percent more chance of getting a coin. Or escape being kicked aside, and sleeping in pain for the next day. It made a big difference.

It was another rabbit hole, same as thoughts. The better you were at reading people, being able to notice slight changes in their bearing. The more you saw, how insignificant you were. Even amongst people at the same standing, even in this shithole of a street. It showed you something. That after knowing, you noticed how much better off you were by just staying blind to it.

But it helped too. Improving the way you lived. It made some things easier. And I could only imagine, what change it would bring to my life. If I had more people to watch, more things to see. Was there something like fire? And the ways of using it? If I was able to watch the baker do his work? Could I recreate it? And make my own. Or was there more to it?

What would happen, if I managed to sneak off. And somehow spectate the war, learn from them. Would I be able to fight as well, learn to defend myself? Or was there someone that commanded them? I couldn't see millions of people fighting, without some sort of organization. There were sides. But who commanded those sides eluded me. Or even how, or why would millions listen to a single man or a woman? How have they managed to get to such a position? Or deserved such respect or obedience.

I was in no position to dream of that. But once you thought about it, how could you forget.

With the passage of days, I found myself seeing more people. People dressed but in shining armor. Armor that brought a sense of awe. Walking the streets. They had silver-looking armor, that had breaks around the joints. Which I guessed, made it easier for them to move. Making it look like multiple pieces, that were connected by a chain, or some kind of cloth. They didn't have the ordinary set of boots either. It was metal as well. When I imagined being kicked by them, I hoped it would stay in my imagination.

They had multiple sets of markings, some kind of symbols along with their armor. Which I guessed, represented their side. Or the man that commanded them. And the red color of them, well it looked pretty cool.

The thing that I didn't like, were their helmets. They covered their whole face. Combined with the bulky armor. It made them exceptionally hard to read. And not knowing their mood, while begging for coin. Well, it was too scary for me.

I couldn't see myself lifting more than their sword or spear. Wearing the whole armor, well to me it seemed more like torture. Walking around with that kind of weight, on these roads. Having those metal boots sink into the mud and add extra weight. On top of which they had to do fight in it. It seemed bad, at least from my perspective.

With the first wave of armored soldiers, well-dressed people seem to relax somewhat.

Like seeing hope.

I wasn't so sure. To me, it just seemed like the war was much closer to our location than I had estimated. I just kept that to myself. Who am I spoil their good mood? Not like anybody would listen to a beggar kid like myself. If they wanted to give me more coins. Why would I say no?

What amazed me, was the way that they used horses. So far in this village. Even one horse was priceless. It could tow a carriage, or a cart by itself. By doing so move up to 6 people, or who knows how much bread. At a speed that wasn't comparable to walking.

And jet there were soldiers, alone riding horses. Wouldn't it be better, and much faster if they had carriages? Another mystery.

With the coming and passing of the army, the morale of our little street increased.

The number of people, that we're able to slay beasts increased. It made the roads much safer to travel. Not only for us, allowing us to explore further, then this little village. But it brought merchants as well. Though the items that they sold, I doubt with every coin. From every beggar in this street, that we could even purchase a single item. They mostly carried sharp, long, or short swords. Spears, crossbows, some kind of potions, rations, meat. And much more.

It was tempting. To try and steal, but same as before, with increased value. Came increased risk.

For the first time in my short life. As I was observing merchants and soldiers alike, pass by. I noticed one of the oldest guys from our street, attempt to steal from a merchant. They had a single sword, that looked like it would fall, with even a slight breeze. That made it suspicious to me, how could a sword stay that way, even though the road was bumpy, and the whole cart would shake from time to time.

Well, it turned out I was correct. It didn't make me happy though. As the guy crept towards the cart, I could see the merchant. The bastard was observing him, from the corner of his eye. As he was getting close. He didn't even blink, as his mouth curled up in amusement. It brought chills to my skin.

When the beggar was too close to back off, within arm's reach of the weapon. Merchant yelled for the armored soldiers. As the beggar tried to pull the sword down, it wouldn't even budge. Soldiers caught the guy without an issue. It seemed to me like they even expected it. But from that damned helmet, I couldn't see a thing.

It was an experience that I would never forget. The way that they got every single person from the village to watch. If they refused they would be joining the poor guy as well.

They didn't make it painless.

Two guards were holding the beggar down, not like they needed more than one. The beggar was two to three heads shorter than them, and at least five to ten years younger. He was one of the better-off people from our street. He had some meat to him, there weren't only bones. But that didn't help him a bit. He was so close to awakening, if he survived this he might become somebody. And escape this hellhole.

But it was for naught. It seemed like they wanted to make an example of him. For them, one sword was worth more, than all fifty of us beggars combined. And they wanted to make us understand that.

The soldier in front didn't even bother to take his helmet off. He seemed to grow, and as he started to speak. You couldn't look away.

"You pathetic beggars, and peasants alike. Do you even understand from who you are attempting to steal?" Somehow even with that armor, I managed to see his posture grow, even more, imposing as he continued.

"These swords are meant to defend, even useless people like you. That couldn't even leave this pathetic village at the edge of our glorious Kingdom. And you dare, attempt to steal? That is unforgivable."

He started to draw his blade and started to emit something that made us all tremble. Some kind of an aura? It was terrifying.

"For this, I should kill you all. Erase this pathetic excuse of a village. The only use it has is slowing our journey. But I will be lenient, this one time. The only one that shall pay is this person."

As the beggar realized, that he will be killed. He tried to struggle, but he couldn't budge. It brought fear to his eyes. A realization, that if he didn't do something, say something. He would be dead.

As the beggar tried to speak, to apologize, to say something.

The soldier reacted, I could barely see him move. He only tapped the guy's chin. And with an almost comical sound of snapping branches. His chin broke, no broke is a mild word. It shattered. All that left his lips was an indescribable sound.

Before he could realize what happened, and the pain hit him. He was gagged.

The soldier continued.

"This pathetic excuse of a human isn't worth uttering a word in front of me. The same goes for the rest of you. So better be wise."

I swear that I saw his eyes flash. It looked more terrifying than the stories of beasts that I had listened to.

"As he attempted to steal from The Kingdom with his left hand"

All I could notice is that his sword left the sheath and before I could trace its movement. It was back in it. And there was a thump.

As I realized what happened, my stomach churned. But there was nothing to go out. Some people around me started to vomit.

On the queue, as if disgusted by the added smell of vomit. The soldier didn't even bother to look at us, as he decapitated the poor beggar. With practiced ease. Like I saw the baker, cut bread.

The other two soldiers that held him down, didn't even flinch. They just threw him aside, like trash.

One even kicked his decapitated head like a rock. It crunched but held whole, as it rolled off.

The soldier in charge didn't even bother to continue his speech. He just walked off, with the merchant and the other two soldiers in tow.

The only thing that was left, where they stood. Was the severed hand.

With that came the sobering realization.

The whole atmosphere of the village changed. Even the well-dressed people avoided exiting their houses.

Everything changed.