Broken Harem

Chapter Two

Lower Prysburra, Anglia Proper

Former Germany, Austria regions

Rexlorn Gynlerch did not see his daughter to the train station the following week. No one did.

Nadenya made the first train ride alone in the stark pre-dawn hours that felt colder than winter, taking three hours to travel to Lower Prysburra's more southern train station on a dull commuter train. She continued her trek as dawn ebbed into full sunlight, carrying her bags from the steam trolley that picked up from the commuter station, moving on to the loud, bustling train station on the southern edge of Lower Prysburra. She had made the trip before, but never alone, and never to her present destination. The one time she had traveled was for a mountainous riding academy four years ago. Father had always seen her off to school, even given her a gruff kiss on the cheek before the rigid equestrian training.

This time, she was alone.

She walked slowly toward the station. Already the charcoal black train waited, belching smoke and steam, smelling of washed coal and dust, blasting hoarse whistles from the brass tubing.

"Aboard for The Barrens!" called the ticket minder. "All for The Barrens! Tickets only! No fares exchanged once aboard!"

Nadenya made herself walk quicker, knowing each step was taking her farther from Anglia Proper soil, and nearly her last steps on even Prysburra. The crowd around her hurried on, some excited, some jaded at the travel. She noted there were few children; in fact, she deemed as she watched the passengers boarding the train, she would likely be the youngest. The few children and teens at the stations seemed only to see other older people off; none actually boarded the train.

"Ticket holder?" the tall ticket minder asked as Nadenya reached the raised wooden platform where the crowd formed a line.

She nodded and presented her frayed ticket. Her nervous fingers had worn off any sharp edges since her father had given it to her at breakfast the day before. "One."

He took the ticket and peeled off the back and pressed the ticket's inked side to the back of her hand. "All set, miss. Go ahead. Safe trip."

"Thank you." She nearly choked on the nicety. Thank you for sending me into a hell of sand and loneliness, she thought, plodding into the line.

"Oh, I thank he's the glitter," came a broad, sluggish accent behind her.

Nadenya didn't turn. It was the wide, slanted-lazy, her father would say-tone of the Lower Prysburra ghettos. Upper and Lower Prysburra dialects had their distinct sounds, and Lower was considered the least educated. Paulin had been of such stock, but he had risen through merit and toil.

Or, so he had said. She had believed him when he said he was above now; in looking back, she wasn't so sure those were not just words. Since her father's proclamation of sending her away, she had spent several long night hours rethinking what Paulin had told her. Every word.

She shoved those thoughts aside and stole a look back at the speaker in line. The girl was older than she, with bad teeth that were crowded and stained tobacco brown, and she smiled far too large for her pudgy face. Nadenya moved ahead in line, outdistancing the girl who was carrying a brown corduroy bag with gaudy yellow stitching.

"He shore liked you enough, he did," came a shrill reply from the thin girl with the first girl.

Even without turning, Nadenya could tell the second girl was older and taller. The ghetto accent wafted far over her head, as if riding on a higher plane of lethargy.