I slept.

Oh, how peaceful it was.

But I woke, like I always do, miraculously. Another day of agony.

I didn't dare to get up. What if they're still here? Waiting for me to get out?

I opened my eyes hesitantly, finding only darkness. I remembered then that I was still covered by my cloak. Setting it aside, I finally got up to face the day.

Except, I fell on my face trying to get up. My leg hurt so bad I screamed my lungs out. This was way worse than when it was stabbed.

I looked at it, finding black stains all over it

Great, I thought, infected.

Just what I needed.

I knew how to clean it of course, just a couple of vicilies leaves rubbed on it, and a little bit of water. couldn't have survived this long without knowing about it. But it's too late now. My chances of survival were too low, even lower if I kept the leg.

So this is it, huh. It's not like I'm surprised, I knew stealing from actual ex-soldiers would mean a high chance of death, I just thought I would die from a sword or an axe. Not from an infection.

I didn't even bother trying to save myself now. I just sat there admiring the scenery. It's strange, how this place looks so beautiful, even though I'm dying.

I felt my head lighten a bit, and the pain from my leg decrease just a bit.

It wasn't always like this, they said.

It wasn't always so hard to survive, people could eat and drink without killing or hurting others. People could talk and kids could play, without worrying all the time. Without struggling. But that was before I was born. As if god decided living there was too easy, like we needed more of a challenge.

Back when I lived in the caves, with my family, I didn't have to run so much, never staying in one place, never settling.

Back then I had my father

But that was another life.

He taught me, how to survive that is. He knew I would have to alone one day, and he was right. I knew how to recognise edible plants from the poisonous ones when I was still 6.

I could hunt rats and rabbits when I was 7.

I leant how to find water before I was 9.

But after that, the real lessons began.

He taught me where to stab someone if I wanted to kill, where to hit, if I wanted someone unconscious. He taught the ways of the knife, how to walk stealthily, how to hide.

And all that brought me to where I am now. Dying, from an infected wound.

What would he have thought, if he knew.

Of course, he was dead now. They all are.

All because the nobel families of the Alexas kingdom wanted to get rich, and war was the easiest way for that.

Except they got what they deserved, for the enemy they thought weak was not. For the Ylios were masters of sabotage and poison. As the Alexas armies invaded and razed the lands, the Ylios spies and assasins poisoned the wells and harvest. The Ylios were no more, and the Alexas, who won the war, lost everything in return. The gold they earned valued nothing next to bread. The few peasants that still had lands to harvest became the richest, and the rest, all beggars and bandits depended on those few. They couldn't satisfie the demand of course, and a lot died because of this. But they didn't care, they were sitting on thrones just like the previous royalties. They hired most of the soldiers for guards and a few commoners as slaves for food, but the rest became bandits. Nearly everyone was a bandit.

And here I am, an orphan, in the midst of a raging battleground of bandits.

Dying..