Time moved forward.
But the world did not heal.
It only learned how to hide its wounds better.
Elias was five years old.
Too young to understand the weight of the world.
Too young to realize that peace was never permanent.
He walked beside his mother through the narrow village street, his small fingers wrapped tightly around hers, as if letting go would cause everything around him to disappear.
The village was alive—if it could even be called that.
Wooden stalls stood unevenly along the road. Vendors called out in tired voices.
People moved slowly, exchanging goods, words, and forced smiles.
It looked normal.
But beneath that normalcy…
There was something hollow.
Something missing.
Lili carried a cloth bag filled with vegetables.
Fresh.
But not abundant.
Enough for one meal.
Maybe two… if they were careful.
That was how people lived now.
Not starving.
But never safe.
Beside her, Elias swung his wooden sword.
Again.
Again.
Again.
Each swing clumsy.
Each swing serious.
In his mind, he wasn't a child.
He was already a warrior.
"Mom."
His voice was soft—but firm.
"When I grow up… I'll become a warrior like Dad."
He looked ahead, his small grip tightening on the wooden sword.
"I'll protect everyone."
Lili's steps slowed.
For a brief moment—
Her expression froze.
Not because of what he said.
But because of how certain he sounded.
There was no doubt.
No hesitation.
Only belief.
A gentle smile appeared on her face.
Warm.
But fragile.
"You will," she said quietly.
"You'll become strong… stronger than anyone."
Her fingers brushed through his hair.
"And you'll be a better man than this world deserves."
Elias didn't fully understand her words.
But he smiled anyway.
Because she smiled.
"When you turn six," she continued, "you'll enter the training school."
Elias's eyes widened instantly.
"Training?"
She nodded.
"You'll learn how to fight."
A pause.
"How to survive."
She didn't say the last truth.
How to kill.
Or how not to die.
They stopped in front of a small shop.
The wooden sign above it creaked slightly in the wind.
Old.
Worn.
Like everything else.
Two figures stood nearby.
A woman.
And a boy.
Elias blinked—
Then his entire face lit up.
"MAX!"
The boy turned instantly.
And ran.
Elias let go of his mother's hand and rushed forward.
Their feet kicked up dust as they closed the distance.
And then—
They stopped right in front of each other.
Grinning.
Max looked the same as always.
Messy hair.
Bright eyes.
Full of energy.
Elias raised his wooden sword proudly.
"Look what I got!"
Max didn't react immediately.
Instead—
He slowly lifted his arm.
A small shield was strapped to it.
Scratched.
Used.
Real.
"My mom gave me this," Max said proudly.
"It's stronger than your sword."
Elias frowned.
"No it's not."
"It is."
"It's just a shield."
"And yours is just a stick."
A brief silence.
A challenge.
Elias lunged forward playfully.
Max raised his shield.
Tap.
The wooden sword struck the shield with a dull sound.
They froze.
Looked at each other.
Then both burst into laughter.
Behind them, Lili watched.
A soft smile formed on her lips.
For a moment—
The world felt lighter.
"Mrs. Ray," Lili said gently.
"I hope I didn't disturb you."
Max's mother shook her head.
"Not at all, Miss Lili. I was just waiting."
Their eyes met.
And in that brief moment—
Something unspoken passed between them.
A quiet understanding.
A shared worry.
Because both of them knew—
The forest had not been calm lately.
The boys continued playing.
Arguing.
Laughing.
Swinging their tiny weapons like it mattered.
The mothers walked slowly, talking softly as they moved down the street.
Everything seemed peaceful.
Safe.
Alive.
But not far away—
In a narrow alley where sunlight struggled to exist—
Two men stood facing each other.
One of them wore a dark hood.
Heavy.
Still.
Hiding everything.
"Did you hear?" he asked quietly.
"About the forest?"
The other man nodded.
"I did."
His voice carried unease.
"This time… it's different."
A pause.
The air tightened.
"There are people in there," he continued.
"Not hunters. Not travelers."
His jaw clenched.
"Killers."
The hooded man remained silent.
"Do you think the warriors can handle it?" the second man asked.
There was fear now.
Barely hidden.
The hooded figure finally spoke.
"I don't know."
A step forward.
Closer.
Darker.
"But it doesn't matter."
"…What do you mean?"
"We follow the plan."
Silence.
"The mayor dies."
No hesitation.
No emotion.
"And if someone interferes?"
The answer came instantly.
"They die too."
The alley fell silent again.
Heavy.
Suffocating.
Far away—
Elias laughed.
Still playing.
Still dreaming.
The sun slowly began to set.