Another dawn, another day of living in the cramped world of mine. I slugged through the mud backing a week's worth of firewood on my shoulders. Eight hundred years have passed since The Fall, the series of events that forced us behind the walls and under the surface. Fortunately my family has been at the surface as bakers instead of fighting for scraps underground. This home of mine is close to the wall and is part of a village, where me and a group of my friends hang out at.
Looking up for the miserable and muddy ground, I could see the barn coming up over the horizon. At least there I can drink clean water and eat fresh bread, it is not the best like the nobles but it's better than nothing. Smoke was chugging upwards from the chimney, probably dad baking bread or the fireplace has been lit.
As I neared home, the path got better until I was walking on dirt and sand instead of mud and puddles of water. I picked up speed, eager to be back home again in the arms of my father. My mother was a fighter and died a month ago when one of those shadow abominations got onto the wall, a feat never seen before. I used to learn how to fight from her, now I train alone making up moves and honing my skills of the blade.
As I walked up the cobblestone path to my house, my mind drifts back to the good old days. When I opened the door my father and mother would be chatting at the table, when dinner came all the chairs were full. Now one is forever empty, I placed my palms on the wooden door, dreading to face that reality. Now it seems that no matter what, I have to face this reality everyday. Just then and then only did I realise that the good times were over.
I took a step back from the door and went to the other side of the house to place the firewood. The grass crumpled under my feet, as I made my way there. The wind blew across the streets, making the grass dance under my feet. I placed my back against the wall and sat down looking up at the clear skies. I let out a sigh slumping my back, I took the straps off my shoulders and turned around kneeling.
I took the wood off the pack and arranged them in a neat and orderly fashion so they can be easily stored. While doing so my mind wandered back to the past, training swordplay with my mother and so many more.