Next to the marshes and across from the Highland Forest rests a small, hidebound, dingy, polluted old city, built up of two opposing sections, called Grodlem. One section is populated by the 'rich', those who believe they are superior, wealthy, and better than the majority of those who live in Sentius. The other is The Racks, filled with the working class, those who replenish the windows and stalls behind the walls of their home, a home they were no longer permitted to enter. You see, Grodlem is not a very big city, nor is it a very wealthy or friendly city, even to their own, and especially to the outsiders who wander through the gates, more so in the coming of recent years.
Although, over one hundred years ago Grodlem was magnificent, being one of the only cities in Sentius that was completely self-sufficient, perpetually having its gates open for all who strolled through. Despite this, after centuries passed by, something began to happen. Those that lived within the gates set in motion the demise of their once substantial Kingdom.
They began to look down at those who lived on the doorstep of Grodlem, shutting its gates on its own people, leaving them to live absent-mindedly and carefree with the struggles surrounding the rest of their home, or what used to be. This ruling left those who didn't reside behind the walls of the city to feel neglected and judged by the people who they had formerly called their friends, their home.
So now, at present day, Grodlem is one of the only cities in Sentius that has completely split itself in half, shutting their gates from their own people. The divide caused years worth of hate, confusion and uproar, bordering on the edge of a civil war; which now, had been almost completely forgotten. Those who have lived outside of the gates are left to survive on their own, only being welcomed into the city for trade. All while they are still under the mandate of the kingdom's royals and their guards. Albeit, a scarce number of The Racks inhabitants still deem that the Kingdom an evil force, filled with fanatics and extremists, having no right to shut the gates on those they expected to feed off of. But be that as it may, the majority of people in The Racks were at ease with the new way of life in Grodlem, happily living off of their own resources, which fortunately, seemed to be a significant amount.
The outskirts of the city have everything you could ever need. With miles long of fertilised land, in virtue of the marshlands surrounding the East of Grodlem, making a vast area the perfect place for the use of growing crops. The flat plains next to the wetlands are brimming with livestock, amidst even more land that has yet to be used; not to mention the small fishing port that sits at the very end of The Racks, squished between the marshes and the very walls of the Kingdom.
***
Fuck's sake.
Anya thought as she gutted another Grodlem snapper, one of the sole fish that could survive in the murky waters surrounding The Stacks and Grodlem itself. Anya frantically twisted her head to the side and took in a deep breath, preparing herself for the assault of the foul-smelling fish. Her knife cut down the belly of the snapper, she winced. She had always hoped that she would get used to the smell and blood, but she couldn't bear it, unlike her mother and father. You see, her father and mother had both worked at the fishery all their lives. A small business that had been passed down through generations of her fathers family, and Anya was next in line. Anya despised that fact. The thought of being tied down somewhere. Not being able to choose her future. Never seeing beyond the walls of The Stacks or Grodlem. Being stuck having to smell that disgusting polluted fish every...single...day. She couldn't think of anything worse.
Her parents, however, never seemed to even glance out towards the enigmatic Highden Forest or what lies beyond the marshlands. In all honesty, Anya has never even heard them talk about anything but the fishery, or their home, that's all they've ever known. But the less they had spoken out about the world beyond their home, the more intrigued Anya became by it.
Anya shook her head thinking of this notion, Anya shook her head thinking of this notion, unable to think of one time in her life; when she hadn't imagined life outside these walls. What was out there? That was the question that would spend all day every day moving around inside her mind. Anya just needed a plan, she couldn't stay here forever, not if she had anything to do with it. Anya looked up at the sun, it'll be setting soon, and then she'll be back here tomorrow doing the only thing she knows, alongside her parents.
With a new scowl forming, Anya aimlessly took in the surroundings of her home before her, her nose, instinctively scrunching at the sight. The fishery wasn't the most impressive view, brown, grey and rancid was how Anya described her home to whomever would ask. She was embarrassed with the home that her parents had born her into, embarrassed that they weren't the ones behind the wall.
There was a small two story annex attached to the fishery (around 30ft x 30ft), Anya's bedroom and the family bathroom occupied the first floor, while the kitchen and living room were squeezed into this already limited living space. Her grandparents had put together a handmade room in the corner of the fishery for their bedroom once they found out that they would be having a baby boy. The room, of which, now belongs to her mother and father.
The entire building itself was pretty impressive, being one of the biggest in The Racks; however most of that was taken up by the old family fishing boat and years worth of storage, or hoarding as Anya would have no qualms to proclaim. Although telling that to Anya's mother and father was a mission in itself. They were both incredibly proud people, being raised to think as such, meaning Anya would have to listen to the constant drone of "Respect starts from within, you cannot expect it back without first accepting who you are" from her parents. Something that her dad, especially, loved to say and remind her of.
But, of course, Anya didn't hate the fishery as much as she would let on, it had been all she'd known for the last 19 years, and her home after all. She couldn't help the cordial feeling she would get sitting at home with her parents on a rainy day. How the warmth and smell of the fire engulfed her in a heated artificial hug. Anya had been well-known to hog the fire as a little girl, and not much had changed as she grew older. She would sit for hours upon hours in front of the flames, watching as the embers spurt, mesmerised by the flickering colours. But of course Anya's favourite was the sound of the family's fire, the way it would crackle and pop as the pockets of trapped steam would burst open from the wood. She could close her eyes and sit there for hours upon hours, completely content.
With closed eyes, Anya took in a deep breath, reminiscing about times past.
"Ugh!" Anya's eyes snapped open, as she was met by the putrid smell of the snapper she was half way through filleting. Her cheeks began to turn red, ever so slightly, as she felt her face heat, inadvertently bringing her hand up to her nose. Blocking the smell the best that she could she put her head down and went back to work.
Once she was done for the day, Anya made sure to clean up her work space, placing the not yet finished fish into one of the many freezers (If regular snapper smelt bad you couldn't even imagine left out over-night snapper) and put all of her tools into her little homemade tool box. The tool box being one of her most prized possessions. Gifted to her by her parents around 8 years ago when she first joined them on her first real day of work at the fishery; and not just pottering around making sure her parents had everything they needed, like she had done for years beforehand.
Anya glanced out the window as she fixed the last clasp of her tool box, taking in the view of the trees and mountains in the distance. As she watched the sunset, tucking itself behind natures blind, that neverending nagging thought was back. Anya sighed. Knowing she would be back here tomorrow would not escape her mind; as much as she tried expunging it away, it never seemed to leave her thoughts.
________________________________________________________________________________
I hope you enjoyed this chapter! <3
YOU ARE READING
A New Story
FantasyTwo hours had passed and celebrations were in full swing. The sun was sat high in the sky, casting a warm, bright glow over the festivities and laughter echoing through the air. The melodic music was staying strong, with not one person seeming to mi...
