005 The North and The South

Chapter 005: The North and the South

Since ancient times, the rigid social hierarchy entrenched in both government and society had made it nearly impossible for commoners to escape the harsh realities of the desert and savanna.

Initially, Caihina’s economy was built on salt and animal hides. But after the discovery of iron mines, many Caihinans began to master blacksmithing. The unforgiving environment demanded they learn various skills just to survive.

Thanks to their resilience, the people of Caihina—though isolated and often overlooked by the royal government—had managed to sustain themselves independently.

Most of them weren’t truly poor. Yet, because they came from common roots and were known as a backward tribe, they were constantly pushed to the margins. In truth, Caihina’s salt and hides fetched high prices in the market—though few outsiders ever realized this.

At first, the salt and hide trade was dominated by Nauruan nobles. But once Rowt was granted the title of Baron, he gained control over the trade routes. Slowly, the monopoly over Caihina’s natural resources began to shift. The people finally reaped the rewards of their labor—be it from mining salt or tanning hides. But this success made Rowt a target of resentment among the aristocracy, who viewed his rise as a threat to their dominance. Even so, Rowt chose to keep his baronial title, despite the heavy taxes it required.

To the nobility, Rowt was a warning—a commoner turned nobleman, disrupting the established order. From then on, they remained wary, obstructing his every effort to rise again.

Even so, Rowt and Ash never gave up. They fought tirelessly to keep Caihina’s trade alive, even as danger loomed at the borders—especially in the forested frontier near Nauruan. Whenever their goods were ready to be shipped, Rowt and Ash led from the front. And now, to their pride, Atthy and Ay had begun to follow in their footsteps.

Salt miners, hunters, blacksmiths, traders—this was the everyday life of the Rowt family. Even Atthy, a woman, was deeply involved in this labor. Not just their family, but most of Caihina lived the same way. In this land, it wasn’t unusual for women to hunt or forge weapons. In fact, many young women in Caihina were raised with a strict, rigorous upbringing. Boys could hunt alone by age nine; girls joined their fathers or brothers on hunts by thirteen. This tradition had long shaped the identity of their people.

The desert and savanna were unforgiving. Surviving here demanded not only physical strength but a resilient spirit. That was why Caihinan women were known for their grit and dignity—no less than the men. Despite the scorching climate, the people here were not hardened or cruel. Quite the opposite—they were open-hearted and deeply supportive of one another.

Having once moved in noble society, Rowt understood the value of education. Though they lived in poverty, he believed learning was the key to a better future. His tumultuous life experiences had shaped how he educated his children and grandchildren—even if only at the most basic level. Ash, who had completed his education at an academy, possessed broader knowledge, which had helped him marry Laura. It was also Ash’s education that allowed him to stand firm against the intimidation of nobles, aristocrats, and corrupt officials who continued to exploit Caihina’s merchants under the guise of the law.

Though Atthy never attended formal school, she had received a noblewoman’s basic education from her mother, who had once taught etiquette before marrying Ash. That education had given Atthy the foundation to navigate life’s hardships with grace.

Yet marriage was far from her mind. She felt deeply bound to her family—especially Gafy, whose wish to see the wider world had begun to weigh on Atthy’s heart. Still, she knew life wasn’t as simple as Gafy imagined.

Atthy understood too well the harsh reality they lived in. Though her family was happy despite their humble means, the truth was far more difficult than it appeared on the surface. What worried her most, however, was Gafy’s health. If she had more resources, she could give her siblings a better life. Both Gafy and Dimi deserved more than this—to live safely, with dignity. And Atthy had made a quiet promise to herself: she would do everything she could to make that future possible.

---

The northern city of Alpen was not so different from Nauruan in the south. Both were major cities located along the border of the Xipil Kingdom, and both were avoided by many due to their treacherous terrain and unstable landscapes. Despite their vast territories, few nobles wished to involve themselves in Alpen’s affairs, wary of the high risks of border conflicts.

Yet while both cities shared the same geographical challenges, the stark difference between Alpen and Nauruan lay in their rulers. Cold and mountainous Alpen was governed by a resolute and dignified Grand Duke. His firm leadership kept the region stable, even under constant threats of conflict. Nauruan, by contrast, had a tropical climate and fertile lands that should have brought prosperity. Instead, the region was plagued by unrest, ruled by a vain and indulgent noble who cared more for luxury than the well-being of his people.

The lifestyles of the two regions’ people could not have been more different. Alpen’s citizens were calm and orderly, living in harmony with their harsh environment. Meanwhile, Nauruan was livelier and more chaotic—though far poorer in reality. This imbalance stemmed largely from Count Veraga’s constant envy of Xerces, the glittering capital. Desperate to make Nauruan rival Xerces in splendor, Count Veraga—who had been entrusted by the crown to govern the region—poured efforts into appearances, disregarding the social and economic foundations needed for true prosperity. Many nobles and aristocrats saw the royal judgment as unfair, and thus the Nauruan administration became fractured, as every faction pursued its own interest with no trust among them.

Despite being several times larger than glamorous Xerces, Alpen was far from a city of excess. Its prosperity came not from wealth displayed but from the bounty of its mines—coal, gold, and diamonds. Though located at the kingdom’s edge, far from the kingdom’s bustling heart, Alpen was not left behind. Under the firm yet wise rule of the Griffith Clan—renowned for its steady hand—the city remained a pillar of stability amid the kingdom’s turbulent borders.

Alpen’s vastness, nearly triple that of Nauruan, made it a dangerous frontier. Its strategic position bordered three foreign nations, all still reluctant to pursue peace. This made Alpen part of the most contested region in the realm. Alpen, Skythia, and Kargavs were territories long fought over by six great kingdoms. The war for dominion over these lands had lasted over two centuries—ever since the previous Grand Duke Griffith decisively conquered Alpen from Zorthen and Karzeth. To this day, the Griffith Clan retained control over Alpen with unwavering authority.

---

That morning, the Galina family went about their usual routine. As always, Atthy rose early to clean the house and do the laundry. Rowt, sticking to his habit, began preparing breakfast, assisted by Gafy, who swiftly arranged the needed ingredients. Dimi, the youngest, tended to their livestock and ensured the family’s supply of animal protein was sufficient. Meanwhile, Ash and Ay handled the spoils of their recent hunt—processing the meat, hides, and pelts.

Hunting was the lifeblood of Caihina. The region’s furs and hides were highly prized, making its people well-regarded among traders. The quality of their materials surpassed those from other territories, commanding far greater value.

After breakfast was served, the family gathered around the table in silence. The only sounds were the soft clinking of spoons against plates and the subtle hush of restrained breaths. Atthy clutched the hem of her tunic tightly, a growing pressure weighing on her chest. She knew she had to speak now, before her courage wavered.

“Father. Grandfather,” she began, her voice steady though tension laced every word. “I’ve made a decision about the marriage proposal.”

Ash, who had been eating quietly, looked up sharply. His eyes were intense, scrutinizing. “Atthy, don’t rush into this,” he said with concern. “Think it through carefully. We only told you last night—there’s no need to decide so soon.”

Atthy took a long breath, trying to calm herself. “I know, Father… I’m not sure if this is too soon or not. But I’ve thought it through, and I’ve decided to accept the proposal.”

Rowt, who had remained silent until then, turned his eyes to his granddaughter. His expression held no anger—only a piercing look that tested her resolve. “Atthy, are you certain?”

She swallowed hard, but her gaze did not waver. “Yes.” She nodded. “Father, Grandfather… as you said, this is a rare opportunity. He’s a Grand Duke, highly respected, and rules over a vast domain like Alpen…” Her voice carried a forced confidence, but a hint of unease flickered in her eyes.

Rowt didn’t respond immediately. He studied her face, as if searching for cracks in her resolve. “Are you sure you don’t want to reconsider?” he asked again, his voice deep and weighty. “There’s still time before we give them an answer.”

Atthy looked from one to the other, making sure they saw the determination in her eyes. “You asked me to think it over—and I did. I spent all night doing so.” She paused, then added more softly, “But… if you ever find he’s not the kind of man you’d want for me, I’ll trust your judgment. You can refuse him without asking me first.”

Her voice was firm, but beneath that strength lay something unspoken—a quiet fear she tried to suppress. She was leaving room for their decision, though her heart had already chosen.

Rowt and Ash exchanged glances. The silence that followed grew heavier. They knew Atthy well—she would never speak lightly. But this wasn’t a decision to take lightly, either.

Amid the stillness, Atthy resumed eating, her motions calm, concealing the storm within. Though outwardly composed, her chest felt tight.

She knew—this choice would change her life forever.

“If that’s your decision,” Ash finally said, his gaze lingering on her face. His eyes, usually sharp, were now clouded with concern. His heart felt heavy, yet he recognized the conviction behind her words. Silently, he weighed all the possibilities that lay ahead, while Atthy held his gaze, resolute. So much was at stake—and he didn’t want her to bear the burden alone.

“I pray this will be the best decision for you,” Rowt said solemnly, resting a hand gently on her head. There was warmth in his touch, but also an unease he could not hide. Though his years were many, his spirit remained fierce—even as he sensed this path would take them far from everything familiar.

Atthy gave him a faint smile, though a knot of tension still clung to her heart. “Thank you, Grandpa…” she replied, her eyes shimmering faintly, her smile touched by a doubt she alone could feel.

Ash rose abruptly from the worn couch, cutting through the silence like a blade. “Very well,” he said, his voice authoritative as always, though worry lingered in his tone. “Ay, inform the others. We’re forming a convoy.”

“Yes, Father,” Ay replied firmly, though a furrow creased his brow. His thoughts were already drifting, anxious about what would come next. He understood well—this wasn’t just a business deal. It was a turning point that could reshape their lives, especially his sister’s.

“I’ll help you, Brother,” Dimi chimed in with a beaming smile, quickly trailing after Atthy. Despite his cheer, there was a flicker of unease in his eyes—an internal conflict between honoring her choice and the creeping fear of what lay ahead.

“I’ll prepare our goods,” Atthy said, trying to sound confident. But deep within, a quiet voice questioned her. Had she made the right choice? She bid farewell to her grandfather and Gafy, who was already busy clearing the table.

“I’ll help you once I finish here, Sis!” Gafy called brightly, and Atthy nodded with a faint smile. Her youngest sibling’s enthusiasm offered a small comfort, even as she knew a great decision loomed ahead.

And yet, in silence, Atthy felt the weight in her chest deepen. This was more than just a marriage. It was a door opening to a world far greater—and far more dangerous. She tried to still her heart with a smile, but behind her eyes, uncertainty clouded her thoughts.

What would come next?

---