35. Fear not Dear

Baden

The sun rose bright and early today, swallowing the chilly blanket covering the once eerie atmosphere. As the golden rays penetrated the lingering wisps of fog, the sparkling dew ravages the blades of trees leaves and green grass. The winter of Baden was no match to the freezing cackle of the Mountain of Udona or the hidden Ambaram. But it was enough to send chatter in between the teeth of folk and rattle their thin bones. Those spoiled rags covering their loose flesh barely concealed the body heat. Multiple holes stood proudly in the torn woolens and allowed the icy whips of morning air to bite the skin. The piece of worn-out fabric is all they held to fight against the cruel winter. The people of the richest nation weren’t as rich as the false glory of a demented king. They were struggling to meet loose ends of a simple life and were trekking the path of shattered dreams.

As the day started, people jumped out of their broken abodes t