The market of Ashenhold awakened to yet another of its usual days. Sunlight filtered through the rows of neatly arranged stalls. Though the sun's warmth had yet to intensify, the familiar hustle and bustle of the market had already begun to heat up. Fruits, vegetables, fish, meat, delicacies, baked goods, fancy items, stationery—each stall had long queues of customers in front of them. Some were carefully selecting their desired products, others were haggling over prices with the vendors, and some sellers, willing to take a slight loss, were offering their goods at a lower price than their neighboring competitors.
At the far right end of the market, among the row of fish stalls, stood Anna's stall. She was heavily pregnant. But she was not just a customer who had come to buy goods—she was a fish vendor. Some people glanced at her swollen belly with pity, but beyond that, she received no real sympathy from anyone.
Her husband, a habitual drunkard, had been beaten to death by a gang of thugs on the streets two months ago. With no one else to help her, Anna couldn't afford to stop working and stay home. If she did, she would starve. She wouldn't be able to fill her stomach. Hospital stays and medicines were luxuries beyond her reach amid the daily expenses of survival.
Among the vendors who invested good money in selling large fish like salmon and shark, Anna struggled to hold her place. Since she had to pay a significant sum to the wholesale dealer for purchasing stock, she could only afford to sell smaller, less fresh fish at a lower price. Only a few compassionate individuals and villagers, moved by the sight of her swollen belly, bought fish from her stall. But who knew whether they actually ate the fish themselves or simply fed them to their cats and dogs?
The stench of stale fish was more unbearable than usual for Anna that day. It made her nauseous, unsettling her stomach. But she endured it, taking a deep breath as she looked down at her swollen belly. She stood there, fully aware that she could give birth at any moment.
"Anna, dear, why have you come to work in this condition? Shouldn't you be at home now? The baby won't take much longer to come."
A vegetable vendor passing by asked, her gaze fixed on Anna's large belly. But Anna simply smiled at her.
"Thank you, sister, I appreciate your concern. But if I stay at home, my stomach will remain empty."
By the time Anna responded, the woman had already moved toward her stall. That was just how things were in the market. People acknowledged each other out of familiarity, nothing more. No one here was close to anyone. No one had time to meddle in others' affairs. In a crowded city, where people were constantly rushing to survive, who had the time to care for others?
Anna let out a deep sigh and turned back to her business. She had opened her stall at five in the morning. So far, only two or three people had approached her for fish. And even then, by the time they finished haggling, she had to sell at a loss. Still, she waited with the hope that by evening, she might make a small profit. She kept calling out the names of the fish at her stall, trying to attract customers. Some people turned to look at her, only to wrinkle their noses in disgust when they saw her stale fish. They would then head to the neighboring stalls, bargain for fresher fish, and leave.
Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through her lower abdomen, as if something was gripping her insides. She clutched her belly. A wave of nausea hit her, and the world around her seemed to spin. Then, she felt a wetness spreading between her legs. It was happening. The baby was coming.
Anna held onto the table of her stall and slowly sank to the ground. She looked around for help. But no one met her eyes. It was as if they hadn't seen her at all. She realized there was no point in hoping for assistance. She crossed her legs and reached under her skirt, pulling at her panties with one hand while holding her belly with the other. She took a deep breath, lay down on the ground, and pushed.
Pain surged through her, unbearable and unrelenting. She trembled, writhing on the ground. Digging her heels into the dirt, she pushed harder.
"Mother… Ahh…"
A cry of agony tore from her throat. And in that moment, amidst the putrid stench of rotting fish, her baby's head emerged. Anna hiked up her skirt, reached between her legs, and pulled the child out. A rush of blood followed, pooling beneath her. She bit down on the fabric of her blouse, muffling her cries of pain.
Her hand knocked against the leg of the stall's table. A pair of fish-cutting scissors tumbled to the ground beside her. Drops of stale fish water splattered onto her face. With her right hand, she grabbed the fallen scissors and cut the umbilical cord. Then, cradling her baby in both arms, she pulled it close to her chest.
The infant let out its first cry.
Anna smiled. Satisfaction filled her face.
Her eyes closed.
They never opened again.
The newborn opened his tiny eyes, unaware that the mother who had given him life lay dead beside him. The chaos of the marketplace, the bustling crowds, the stench of rotting fish invading his delicate nostrils—everything overwhelmed him. He cried incessantly.
Hearing the baby's cries, nearby vendors and passersby turned to look. They saw the wailing infant and Anna's lifeless body beside him, but no one paid any mind. Births and deaths like these were common in the Ashenhold market. No one cared enough to intervene. Sometimes, babies born in such conditions perished right there within a few hours. If not, by evening, when the crowds thinned, they would become food for the stray dogs that roamed the market, scavenging for fish and meat scraps. Only a few infants survived. Some were picked up and raised by strangers. Others grew up on the streets, belonging to no one. Many succumbed to disease before they could grow. Those who survived became vagrants, spending their days doing odd jobs to fill their stomachs and their nights drowning in cheap liquor, getting into brawls, and causing a ruckus—just like many others in Ashenhold, including Anna and her husband.
Anna's child was a frail, pale-skinned baby boy. Anyone could tell at a glance that he was not healthy. He lay against his mother's cold chest, still crying, his wails echoing through the market. But not a single glance of sympathy was cast his way.
By evening, the city's waste collection vehicle would arrive. If the baby was still alive when they found him, they might hand him over to an orphanage. If he had perished by then, he and his mother would be taken to the public cemetery and buried together. The waste collectors knew that people like Anna had no relatives, no loved ones to claim them. And their act of disposing of the bodies was not out of compassion. If corpses were left to rot in the streets, it would be the waste collectors who would have to answer to the mayor and city officials the next day. Fear of that reprimand was what ensured the bodies were buried in time.
The baby's cries were not entirely ignored. A short distance away on the same street, a man was sitting—his clothes tattered, his hair and beard long and unkempt. He was a beggar. And he was listening to those cries.
Renly, as he was called, nudged his wife, Susie, who sat beside him. Like him, she was also a beggar. She was shielding their baby's head from the sun with a small cloth while nursing the child. The woman, who was nearing forty, turned to her husband with a questioning look.
"Hey, Susie... did you hear that? Isn't that a baby crying?"
Susie listened carefully. He was right. Somewhere nearby, the cries of a small infant could be heard. Though the sounds of the market made it unclear, the crying was distinct.
"Ah, I heard it too. It must be someone's baby from the market," Susie said rather dismissively.
"No, no... I've been paying attention. The crying is coming from the same spot. What does that mean? The baby's mother or father isn't moving away with the child, is that it?"
"If what you're saying is true, then yes," Susie replied.
"Exactly. Think about it—if the mother is nearby, would the baby be crying like this? Wouldn't she have fed the baby by now? The crying should have stopped already, right?"
"That's true."
Susie paused for a moment, thinking, before asking her husband, "But what does it have to do with us if a baby is lying there crying?"
"That's all well and good. Let's go find the baby first."
"This man and his ideas!"
Muttering under her breath, Susie reluctantly got up, lifting her own baby onto her hip, and followed Renly toward the source of the cries.
They reached the spot soon enough. Near a fish stall, a woman lay dead on the ground. Clinging to her chest, crying loudly, was a baby. Renly immediately knelt beside the child and placed a finger under the woman's nose.
"What are you doing, man?" Susie asked, irritated.
"Don't worry, Susie… this baby's mother is dead. She was a fishmonger, wasn't she? Her husband died two months ago in a fight. No one will question us if we take the baby. There's no one left to claim him."
"Are you out of your mind? Are you planning to take and raise this child? I can't do this! I already know how hard it is to take care of one child."
Susie gestured to the baby resting on her shoulder as she spoke.
"My dear, this is why they say women lack foresight. Didn't you notice? This is a baby boy. He's not like our little girl. He won't just be useful for begging—when he grows up, he can serve many other purposes as well."
A strange glint appeared in Renly's eyes as he spoke.
"Even so…" Susie hesitated.
"No more hesitation. Can you nurse him alongside our daughter?"
"Yes, I can."
"Then that's enough… I'll take care of the rest."
With that, Renly took a piece of cloth from his wife's hand, wrapped the baby in it, and carried him away. Susie followed.
Several people had witnessed the scene, but they paid no heed. As if it meant nothing, they simply carried on with their own lives.
Will Continue...