The Fortress in the Clouds

THE TOWN SQUARE was buzzing with life. The townsfolk, with all of their disgustingly bizarre frocks, were all laughing away with their purchases in woven baskets.

Naomi, on the other hand, could only look on with envy as a woman with a ridiculously pompous cream lace dress sauntered past. The skirt of the dress bounced, fluttering in the wind as the woman walked. It was an insane ensemble, no doubt, but it was also absurdly beautiful. There was a unique elegance in the design of the dress that brought out the wearer’s femininity even further.

With every step that the woman took, Naomi’s heart only longed more and more for beautiful clothing that she could call her own. She looked back down at her own outfit which consisted of tattered and torn flats and a clumsily sewn cotton dress that came just below her knees and sighed.

It had been yet another week since the last time she was here, that meant that they needed fresh new products to stock up their pantry. With her mother delirious to the world and needing nothing more than a heaping mug of ale in her hands, it was little Naomi that would have to venture down to the marketplace to get their supplies for the next week.

It was now routine work for her to journey down to the town square, picking up the cheapest fruits and vegetables she could find from local farmers before begging for a loaf of bread. The baker that worked there had always been rather kind, offering her the pieces that weren’t sold from the day before. Although it was not the cream of the crop, it was still better than none.

“Thank you, Mister.” Naomi had a bright sunny smile on her face when she took the loaf of bread greedily in her hands, stuffing it into her basket before covering it with a piece of checkered cloth. “You are very kind.”

“Anything for you, darling Naomi,” the baker’s wife replied. “You know that we will help you wherever we can.”

“Now hurry along before your mother worries!” The baker laughed, ruffling up Naomi’s midnight black curls before returning back to work.

Naomi did not have the heart to tell them that her mother, as lovely as she once was many years ago, was no longer as caring as she used to be. She was now a drunk woman who wanted nothing more with her daughter after the loss of her husband. Distraught and ruined by grief, she was merely the shell of the woman she once was.

Scurrying away as quickly as her two feet could carry her, Naomi returned to the corners and alleyways that she had memorized by heart. She was well on her way home, almost reaching the sunshine lit soils that held a path home when a boy suddenly rushed in front of her, tripping onto the ground.

“Please!” The boy cried in a soft whisper, pulling at her dress. “You have to help me!”

“Where are you, you little rat?!” A man’s voice could be heard from a distance away. He seemed rather angry about something, his baritone voice sending chills down Naomi’s spine. “I’ll teach you a lesson!”

Naomi looked back down at the terrified boy. He could not be older than she was, maybe around the same age. He had a tuff of dusty dirt brown hair and striking green eyes that reminded Naomi of the forests that surrounded the house she grew up in. His skin was tanned, sun-kissed and a brilliant bronze that was shades lighter than her own.

With pursed lips and determination flooding her veins she quickly took the boy’s hands in her own before breaking off into a run.