A little girl lazily threw grain onto the floor as fowls of different sizes flocked to her. Little rats with a hard leather shell on their backs also joined the crowd, occasionally fighting with the chickens for the dried seedlings.
“Orru! Where are you? Orru!” a woman yelled from within the nearby farmhouse. The little girl, Orru, stopped her work and quickly went to the granary to dump any remaining grain into a barrel.
“What is it, mum?” Orru asked as soon as she got to the farmhouse and stopped when she saw her three brothers packing goods into woven baskets.
“You’re going with your brothers to the market. But I’ve got a special task for you,” Orru’s mother brought out a wrapped jar and continued, “Bring this to your aunt Daenna at the pottery workshop. It’s jam made from the fruits harvested last month.”
“Only this much? We should give them all of it! I hate this jam!”
Orru’s mother tapped her daughter’s head lightly with a wooden spoon and scolded, “Don’t be rude! What’s so bad about it?”
“It’s so sour! I prefer the sweetened one with the milk in it!” Orru said as she rubbed her forehead.
“Sour is good! Humanos helps purge the spirits out with sourness, you know? Now, go help your brothers,” the woman said as she shooed Orru off.
“Aldeberth! Tell mum that the jam is horrid! She’s- eh?” Orru stopped when she noticed that her eldest brother was wearing a simple chain vest, clearly her father’s old armor, and a short seax was slung around his waist.The young man was trying to fit a wearied, chipped axe around his waist when he noticed Orru.
“Being noisy early in the morning, Orru? Do you know the beasts come for the loudest children at night?” Orru’s brother joked.
“That’s not true!” Orru shouted. “Why are you dressed like that? Are you going to war, Aldeberth?”
“By Humanos, I hope so, but no. One of the local lords is looking for watchmen. The pay’s small but it’s better than farming,” Aldeberth responded. “I heard if I do well, I might even be allowed to join the lord’s house as a formal member.”
“Wow! Which house is it?”
“Seems to be a minor house? Sea’axfeared, I think?” Aldeberth responded as he struggled to put the axe around his belt loop.
“It’s no longer a minor house, you brat,” a louder, older voice boomed as a slightly old man arrived with a small square shield. After handing the shield to Aldeberth, the man took the axe and placed it through the belt loop. “By Humanos, I hope you know that the point end of the seaxe is used to kill your foes, boy.”
“I’m not that dumb, father!” Aldeberth protested.
The father waved his hand and continued from before, “Sea’axfeared is becoming big, I tell you. Do your best to get into it. After all, they’re the reason why we have those… those…” The old man snaked his arm while making a gurgling noise.
“The trains?” Orru interjected.
“Yes, yes. Come along, kids. Don’t want to be late now. Especially you, Aldeberth,” the father announced.
The family, with the help of some daytalers, brought their goods to a gathering spot next to a platform near the small village. From one horizon to another, everyone could easily see metal rails extended across the grasslands. Children played on the railings while their mothers scolded them to get off. Among the crowd of people waiting on the platform were old women with filled woven baskets and well-clothed middle aged men supervising some laborers loading wooden coffers onto the platform.
A few minutes later, the train announced its arrival thunderously, its wheels grinding against the metal rail tracks. It promptly stopped on the platform before opening two doors, one at the front carriage and another at the back. Vyssian warriors exited the train then moved to flank the entrance doors before ordinary folks exited the train carrying goods. Rough, burly men moved cargo from and to the back of the train while the front was used for passengers.
For Orru, she left the heavy lifting to her brothers and went straight for the dark compartments. There were only small slits for windows, so barely any light entered the train. To add to the discomfort, there was a slightly foul smell in the air. The little girl sat on one of the uncomfortable wooden chairs haphazardly bolted to the floor, next to a pair of elderly women who seemed equally uneasy.
It took less than twenty minutes for the people to settle down before the train could start moving again. A Vyssian man walked through the compartments, repeatedly shouting, “Next stop, we’ll be at Oakr Vills by Fehru! I say again! Oakr Vills by Fehru!”
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
Orru listened attentively every time the man passed by.
“We’re off to Fehru! Fehru!”
“Silswig Vills by Fehru! Silswig Vills by Fehru!”
“Ohtord! Ohtord!”
Occasionally, Orru would try to look outside the slit-windows. The little girl would only use the train every few weeks, yet every trip brought new sights. It seemed that the Sea’axfeared were really trying to build new stops everywhere.
“Varangia Tuun by North! Varangia Tuun by North!”
By afternoon, Orru and her brothers finally arrived at the town which bordered the fabled lands of Varangia.
“Brothers! Brothers! I’m off the markets!” Orru shouted amidst the noisy train. She didn’t want to look for her brothers in the crowded, dark, and smelly train. She pushed through the crowd and was one of the first to get out.
“Orru? Orru? Where are you? Don’t leave on your own!” one of the brothers called out from within the train. Alas, it was too late. Their cheeky little sister had already run off into the busy market square next to the platform.
Inevitably, prosperous towns had formed between the trade route of Varangia and the various Sea’ax houses. Just by the borders, there were three towns already, all thanks to the magical artifacts called ‘trains’ and the roads built by the northmen. Within weeks after building the first train route, the small rest houses exploded into bustling towns.
Granted the settlements were still barebones, mostly consisting of shackles and hovels, the foundations for a prosperous town were already laid. And the houses of Vyssium knew it.
At the town Orru was at, there were already seven manors belonging to various ‘noble’ houses, built with the help of the Varangians of course, and they tried to make their presence as obvious as possible. Tall poles which flew the banners and colors of the houses were spread across the streets as if there was a festival going on.
Orru ran into the bustling market square and zigzagged through the crowded streets. It didn’t take long for her to find a small pottery workshop by a street corner.
“Orru! What brought you here?” Orru’s auntie, Daenna, called out from her workbench.
Orru placed down the jam prepared by her mother onto the table and asked, “Where’s Ella? It’s been so long since I’ve seen her!”
“Your cousin’s fourteen summers old now. She’s busy with her apprenticeship, you know? You shouldn’t disturb her.”
“She can take a one day break to play with me!”
Daenna sighed and waved her off. “Alright, alright. Do you know where she’s working at? It’s next to the shrine.”
“I saw it on my way here!” As Orru was about to leave, her aunt stopped her. Daenna handed her a pouch full of broken silver pieces and said, “Give this to your mother. I know your father’s having a hard time with his leg. If the priests can’t help, I know there’s a shaman near your village.”
Looking at her twinkling-eyed niece, Daenna added, “Don’t you dare spend it.”
“Maybe just one piece? Please?”
Daenna sighed and took out two halves of a silver coin and handed it to the little girl. “Fine. That should get you a nice dress at least.”
“Yey!” Orru hugged her auntie before running off to her cousin. Just next to the shrine, the energetic devil spotted her cousin talking to a few fellow workers. In her excitement, she started sprinting towards her.
Suddenly, she crashed into what almost seemed like a steel pillar. The stranger she smacked into started screeching and the crowd recoiled in terror from the noise. From behind the angry northman, little men in armor also screeched as they pointed their spears at the little girl.
Orru, in her shock and horror, froze on the spot. An adult man wouldn’t be able to respond well to a bunch of screaming armed men, let alone a child!
“No! Please!” Daenna shouted, ran to her niece, and hugged her. She used her body to block the Varangians. “Lord Varangian! Please forgive our transgression!”
Vyssian warriors appeared, including Orru’s brother. They pulled out their swords and axes as the leader of the group shouted, “What in the name of Humanos is going on?!”
A tense silence followed as the two groups of armed men stared at each other, only to be broken by Daenna. The woman pushed the pouch towards the taller northman and pleaded, “Please Lord Varangian. Take this meager sum of silver as compensation for our rudeness!”
The northman glanced at the silver then at the woman. Daenne tried to look into the eyes of the rumored ‘nonhumans’, but the lack of any sense of emotions from the eye slits terrified her.
“No danger?” the tall Varangian spoke in monotone Vyssian.
“Aye! We meant no harm!” Daenne said. “My niece is just careless! How could a young child mean any harm?!”
“Knees?” The drone looked at the woman’s legs. Apparently it couldn’t understand so it opted to just leave without further ado. With the danger gone, Orru finally started crying, burying her head in the comfort of her aunt’s arms. The crowd started whispering amongst themselves as well.
“Bastard northerners. Think they can boss us around in OUR land?”
“Those overreacting hooligans. They dare point their weapons at a child?!”
“Northmen should stay north!”
The leader of the Vyssians clicked his tongue and waved his hand. “Disperse the crowd, men!”
Aldeberth helped his sister and aunt off the ground, prompting the leader to ask, “This your sister, lad?”
“Aye, lord.”
“Better make sure she stops running around like a boar on fire. I’ve already had enough of my fill of northmen incidents for the month.”
“Yes, lord.”
The Vyssian nobleman furrowed his brows as he looked at the distant metal tower on the opposite end of the border. Yet despite what he, and many others, thought about the northmen, they could only swallow them and keep their mouths shut. “Remember what Old Man Wick said! Don’t piss off a northman! You won’t win in a fight against them!”