A young boy ran across the street, grinning while playing tag with a small group of his friends from school.
He had somewhat defined muscles and a rather narrow build. His hands were covered in small calluses.
After a small while of running and dodging, he and his friends finally settled down and sat on the sidewalk. A cross necklace dangled around his neck. His friends glanced at him with envious looks.
While he was sitting around, his gaze wandered upon a peculiarity—a small tent by the outskirts of the biggest market in the town. It was no bigger than a small shed, covered with sloppy patchwork and barely holding itself upright.
Curious, he wandered up to the entrance of the tent. As he did, an old lady stepped out, leaning heavily on her cane.
Her wrinkled complexion twisted into a small smile, for she was excited to have her first customer in a while. She leaned in towards the boy's ear, whispering.
"I assume you're here to get your fortune told?"
Confused, the young boy's head slowly shook.
"Uh, no? Maybe? What do you mean, get my fortune told?"
The old woman began to frown.
'Just come in then, I promise it'll be fun, and hey, I won't even charge you!"
The boy's ears perked up when he heard her mention it's free. Reluctant, he stepped in slowly. Taking in the inside of the patched-up tent and eyeing the many odd trinkets she owned.
Along the wall were books of the mystic and magical, with gaps filled with crystal balls and other odd trinkets the boy couldn't even begin to describe.
The old woman skillfully picked up a deck of cards before shuffling them over and over and over again. Each card is carefully mixed, one by one, entering its rightful place. As the boy began to grow impatient, she put the shuffled deck onto the table decisively, before grumbling a little bit.
"Boy, put out your hand, please. Palm facing up."
"Alright, is this okay?"
"Yes. Good. Now let's see your fortune.*
The old woman began to shuffle the cards with her eyes closed. The cards danced across her hands as she worked through the deck with vigor, but just as she worked through it masterfully, they all slipped out of her hand.
The boy, seeing this, almost let out a giggle, but the old lady's expression, like that of crumpled paper, was enough to persuade him not to. The old lady looked around, and after a few seconds, leaned in with a grin that could only be described as both sheepish and curious.
"This is the first time I've divined something like this! Your future will be riddled with everything. Love, hate, crime, righteousness, magic, adventure, life, and oh so much more"—
Before she could finish speaking, a blade cut straight through the back of the tent and cleaved her in two in a swift slash. Her warm blood covered the young boy. The boy, startled, tensed and held his breath. However, while he initially moved away from the slash, he quickly leaned in after seeing who had dealt the slash.
"Oh, hey, father! Was she a witch?"
A man clad in pristine, yet light, leather armor covered with as much gore as a butcher's apron walked through the divide his slash had created in the now ruined tent.
"Son! What's up! Why were you hanging out with a witch, anyway?"
The father slouched his gore-covered arm around the boy, ignoring the mess that made up the scene, and chuckled. The boy moved so as not to be covered by the gore, but a quick tug made his preparations all for naught.
"Well, she kept roping me in, and before I knew it, she was talking about some future divination and magic…"
"Don't worry your little head about it, I'm just proud you helped in her defeat. Your distraction kept her from getting away, y'know? Now maybe instead of me telling you bedtime stories, you'll tell me your tales of slaying witches."
The pair chuckled and walked out as if nothing had happened.
"So, you're going to try out for the knight king exams, pops?"
" 'Course, this father of yours is going to be the biggest, bestest knight that ever existed, I promise."
The boy looked up at his father with bright eyes, full of hope.
"Can we go get a honey cake?"
The father nodded, and they began to walk through the market.
A hunchbacked man with a stall full of training swords stepped in front of the young boy. He stretched out his arms wide and made exaggerated gestures with his hands as he spoke.
"You surely look like a knight in training, no? Why not pick a training sword? Ours are by far the cheapest and highest quality in town. Though the only downside is the weight, but of course, a knight like you could wield it, couldn't you, boy?"
The father stepped in front a second too late, as the boy darted out to pick a sword.
"Ooh, can I have this one, pops? No? Please~"
The father sighed, knowing it was too late to stop his son's antics, and simply looked at the salesman before turning his fist and letting the money fall into the salesman's palm.
"2 Bronze and 5 Copper, right?"
The salesman nodded quickly, visibly relaxing his posture after the exchange. The man and the boy walked towards the horizon, leading to a higher plateau that is surrounded by a dense castle wall.
That is, where the rich and powerful lie.