EyrthTales - Short Stories

Glass Shoemaker's Daughter

The wealth of Tiir was unrivaled by any other country of Eyrth; and it took only a glance of its fair capital of Glasskai for anyone to know it. The only part of the entire country of Tiir that may be considered poor by some, was Lower Glasskai, because everyone there lived in industrial conditions in the, very literal, shade of upper Glasskai; and the only part of Lower Glasskai that truly was poor and pitiful was the underground (called so because it was underground).

Laufier Guildher was one who lived in Upper Glasskai, swathed in luxury among the stationary glass ships and man-made clouds that formed the floating half of this great city. Being the heir of Eyrth's biggest supplier of coal, brass, and copper, he was known as the country's prince, the wealthiest eligible young batchelor on Eyrth. His birthday was held for a full week of every year, and it is at the start of this week of celebration that our story begins.

Through the flickering rays of rising sun that snuck through the clouds and metal of the city above, a pale, brown young woman (pale because she rarely felt the touch of the sun, and brown because she rarely felt the touch of a bath) ran towards where the city met the sea. Upon reaching her destination she headed towards the row of copper rods she had left in the beach before last night's storm. Pulling them from the sand she collected the great lumps of glass that had formed at the base of them. Then with her heavy sacks full she heaved them over her back and trudged back towards home.

Her home was on the edge of Lower Glasskai, near the elevators that led down into the underground, and lower into the coal and copper mines. It was the dirtiest and poorest area of Lower Glasskai. Her father's workshop was here, at the back of their home, and every Wednesday and Saturday he would ship his delicate creations to the shop his wife and stepdaughter ran at Lower City Central. There, staff of the wealthy would come down to buy trinkets and jewels for their employers.

"Ayla!" A voice hailed her, and she halted; seeing her best friend jogging over to her, his bright blond hair flopping about.

"Donovan! You are late rising! Are the miners on strike again?"

"Aye, our respirators haven't been replaced in over a year and the oldies are beginning to feel it. Give me one of your sacks I'll walk you home." She obliged "Laufier Guildher's birthday week starts this noon. What I wouldn't give to be him." Donovan continued bitterly "The mans get everything handed to him while we slave away below, filling his pockets for him, living in hovels and squalor."

"Hey now!" Ayla laughed "our house is less of a hovel than what you would be living in had we left you to live in the pits underground! Such ingratitude!"

He grinned at her "You know my meaning, I am glad for the room you lend me, if only to be closer to my ugly sister!"

"Ah devil!" She cried, giving him a whollop. "More for you to be grateful for, if you were my blood brother you would have my looks!"

"You are right! You with your nasty poo eyes and too many freckles for a blond!" He laughed as he received another beating.

They stepped into the workshop and loaded the glass into the smelter before he bid her goodbye and set off to protest with the rest of the miners. Once he had left, she found her father at his workbench to see what he was working on. No one made glass shoes like her father, he was the best in the business as his shoes were delicate, strong, and comfortable; and if he were well enough to make more, (or if his wife and stepdaughter stopped spending all they had) they would be far better off.

He father coughed violently, trying to hide the specks of blood on his kerchief as his daughter approached. She noticed but said nothing, for his sake. The doctors had said the only way to heal was to stop working, and her father refused to do so. She peeked at his current pair.