Grey stirred from her slumber, distant sounds poking at her subconscious. She became lucid and stared into the void listening out to make sense of what her subconscious had picked up.

  “Time to get up sweetheart.”, her father encouraged with a loving tone before walking away.

  She rolled over telling herself ‘just five more minutes’ before her discipline overruled her ziness. She opened her eyes one at a time and waved her hand through the darkness reaching out for a jar. She raised and shook it violently a handful of fire flies sparking to life bringing some much needed light to her room.

  She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and fought with herself as she dreaded the next step. With a deep breath she threw off the multiple yers of cloth, linens and sown together furs that made up her bed sheets. All the heat she had accumuted dissipated in an instant and she immediately regretted her decision. She weakly swung her legs out of bed and onto the rough dirt floor.

  Grey was a sickly, frail girl through no fault of her own or her fathers. What little illnesses that floated around the Undercity all found purchase inside her. She would have been destined for death had her father not intervened and rescued her. It was thanks to them that she had lived long enough to see her eighteenth birthday.

  Grey unlike the rest of the sun starved citizens of the Undercity had skin of ashen grey. A fact deemed important enough to become her name sake she surmised for years. Unoriginal but the name had grown on her, like everything else given to her by her father it was given with love. She stretched out her frail arms and yawned widely helping her blood to circute. She scratched her fingers through her long, messy curls. What hair fell out was stuffed into her pillow for extra cushion. She shook herself fully awake finally and wrapped the furs from her bed around her already clothed torso. Her outfit was a perpetually recycled hand me down. A linen shirt and skirt that consisted of more new fabric than it did original.

  Everything in the Undercity was recycled. Nothing was ever new; trade had stalled from the surface long ago. What remained had to be cared for and repaired as much as possible. Ready for the day she grabbed the jar of fireflies and walked towards the door frame of her room, a linen curtain in pce of a door. On the way out she grabbed her walking crutch, using it to assist her in carrying her own weight.

  Grey struggled her way over into the kitchen where her father sat grinding bones into meal. She pnted the jar of fireflies onto the kitchen table illuminating their work. Not that they needed it, being able to see in the dark, something she and the entirety of the Undercity wished they could do. She passed them swinging around and giving them a kiss on their cheek bone before reaching over to a pile of bowls and grabbing the one without a crack in it.

  She sat down facing them grabbing a handful of bone meal from the newly ground pile and tossing it into her bowl. She followed it up with some water and ground up mushroom fkes mixing it all together with her hand before using her fingers to scoop it into her mouth. The meal she had eaten for the st ten years and would continue to eat three times a day was almost as bnd as literal dirt. It made up for it by being both filling and nutritious. Well as nutritious as one could get on a budget in the Undercity. On the rarest of occasions such as her birthday she could enjoy some bread or even a bit of meat but as that day only came tomorrow.

  “How`s work going dad?”, Grey asked between scoops, looking up at her father. Their bleached white skeleton caught the emerald light of the fireflies magically.

  “It`s grinding work but somebodies got to do it.”, they chuckled with a fathers idea of humour.

  She had heard the joke a thousand times but coming from them it had always put a smile on her face.

  Grey licked her bowl clean and tossed it gently back with the rest of them leaning over to help her dad with grinding.

  With a mortar and pestle older than herself she ground up handfuls of tiny animal bones into powder that they would ter sell as fertiliser and meal substitute.

  “I`m going to be out most of the day. Need to make some st minute touches to your present before tomorrow.”, her father announced.

  “No problem. I can manage the store just fine dad. You go and make sure I have the best eighteenth birthday a girl could ask for.”, she replied pyfully having given up being sheepish about being spoilt by her dad long ago.

  Receiving more than the bare minimum and appearing anything other than eternally grateful was deeply frowned upon in the Undercity. Gifts were in short supply and what little supply there was had to be treasured.

  “I made sure to throw some extra bones on the fire out front so that you won’t be too cold while I`m gone. If it starts to go down just ask one of the customers to throw a little more on in exchange for getting to stand around a little longer.”, Her dad said, dusting the bone powder off of his skeletal hands and rising from the floor.

  Her father pulled a rge bck dusty cloak off the wall and covered themselves in it. People of the Undercity had long ago grown accustomed to a walking, talking skeleton, however it still filled them with unease. They passed around the kitchen table and gave Grey a kiss on the forehead before departing for the day.

  [---]

  The mornings were always quiet. Grey preferred it that way, gave her time to properly wake up and work on her side business of making mittens from rat furs. They weren’t the most comfortable of things but they kept ones hands warm and she made sure that they sted with her self-patented double stitching.

  With the Undercity cking a sun it could get really cold. Naturally as the popution woke up and became active their combined body warmth would heat the pce up. Even on the best days however most people would struggle to keep the chill out.

  She sat behind the counter of the store front, her back to a piece of hanging cloth that hid the entrance to their kitchen and by extension her room. Stitching away with the use of the fire flies soft glow and a decent amount of muscle memory, she looked around the store.

  The pce was old, built with wood as opposed to being carved out of the earth like most new buildings. Wood was an extinct commodity these days and what little timber did make it this far down in the past would have cost a fortune.

  Stone tables were stocked almost to the ceiling with bags of bone meal ranging from one kilogram to five. Each stood much like the other small tears in the bags leaving tiny piles of bone dust on the ground. Grey knew that for the rest of existence this building would have the residual dust of bone meal, no matter how hard someone tried to clean it. Ten years of her life had been spent helping out in the shop confined to it almost indefinitely due to her frail physique. When she was younger her father would take her out carrying her upon their shoulders making up imaginative colourful stories about all the boring things they saw.

  Eventually she grew too big for their shoulders and too mature to be babied despite her father`s insistence. She would always be their little girl, as silly as it was the thought always brought a smile to her face.

  Grey had learned to pass the time by teaching herself to stitch, starting with mending her own clothes then ter moving on to making smaller items, like mittens. These were by far the most popur of her creations, so much so that she couldn’t even afford a pair for herself. She couldn’t sell them for much, just a copper or two. But every coin counted when you lived life one day at a time.

  To her joy, and sorrow, no new orders had come in for a while and she had finally finished her test pair putting just a little more care into them for herself. Once done she marvelled at them slipping them onto her hands, she had designed this particur pair to be fingerless affording her the use of her digits to further sew or do more meticulous tasks.

  Done with the one thing she had to keep herself busy today she settled into her favourite hobby, day dreaming. Early into her days of being house bound her father had kept her spirits up by bringing her books and telling her fantastical stories. She devoured each tale ravenously and through them developed an imagination unrivalled by any in the Undercity.

  Grey had imagined herself from time to time as a long lost Queen separated from her birth family by some evil vizier. That one day an order of knights would descend upon the Undercity to resettle her on the throne of the surface world. Growing up it was her most popur day dream. As she grew older however her imagination grew more grounded. Today she had gotten to wondering what the Undercity would be like if it was home to a masked viginte. A dark brooding figure that dispensed justice and kept the streets safe at night. The thought kept her occupied long enough until she noticed the arrival of their suppliers. In days long past, her father would spend their nights out in the Undercity searching for bones to turn into bone meal. It was Grey who had the brilliant idea of outsourcing the job to some of the locals.

  They would bring them bags of bones that they had found, scavenged or sometimes stolen. They would pay for them in kind of course. This allowed for them to gain five times as many bones at none of the cost to time. That time could be spent grinding and increasing their capacity. It was a brilliant idea; one her father never let her forget was her own.

  Grey took the bags they brought her and piled them behind the counter reaching into a small hidden box for a few copper coins to pay them with. It wasn`t much but it was better than nothing. She honestly wished she could pay them more but it was what it was.

  Things died down and the masked viginte in her head had just challenged the leader of a notorious street gang. They battled with a level of bravery that she hoped to one day possess.

  The door to the shop creaked open suddenly letting in the smell of spores. This signalled the arrival of one of the Undercities many mushroom farming Goblin folk.

  Goblins were a rare sight in the Undercity these days. Her father had told her stories of how they made up the majority of the popution during the city`s founding. They were hired to dig the tunnels, build the initial infrastructure and cultivate the fields of mushrooms that would feed the city`s growing popution. Grey often wondered what had changed for the Goblin popution to decline as it had.

  Their arrival filled Grey with excitement each coming to purchase bags of bone meal for their fields. With every farmer that came and went Grey knew that her favourite would be nearing closer. The st of the farmers, who put special attention into arriving st, anxious of most people, was Willow. Her oldest, most dearest and honestly only friend.

  The door to the shop creaked open slowly and a head poked in cautiously to see if anybody was there. Satisfied in her findings she pushed through the door and closed it behind her giving a huge sigh of relief.

  A Goblin standing at average height, meaning below average by human standards, stood before Grey. Her skin was a young vibrant shade of green partially obscured by yers of dirt. Her eyes were rge and pupil-less yet they shined with a mesmerising pearlescents. Her nose was small like a button and smoothed into her face. Her ears were rge pointed protruding things that sat horizontally and twitched nervously.

  “WILLOW!”, Grey yelled excitedly, “I haven’t seen you in days, what out there could possibly be more important than little ole me?”

  Willow looked at Grey from underneath her shoulder length dirty blonde hair giving a slightly fang toothed smile. She wore a dress made from the Goblins signature woven mushroom fibres that only they really knew how to make. Adorning her three fingered hands were her own pair of mittens compliments of Grey. Lastly on her feet were a big pair of leather work boots that had been passed down for generations within her family. Her body generated heat from hours of hard bour, keeping physically active was one of the few reliable ways to keep warm in the Undercity.

  “I’m sorry.”, she apologised anxiously. “Since I took over my uncle’s farm I’ve been having to do so much more work. I promise it`s not because of you. I would never dream of avoiding you”.

  Grey lifted herself from her seat and limped over to Willow with her crutch. Willow panicked fearful for Grey’s health and ran over grabbing her and supporting her weight. Willow had fallen for the trap and Grey hugged her tightly.

  Willow blushed a deep red embarrassed by Grey’s sneaky embrace.

  “You know you don`t have to apologise to me Willow. I know things have been hectic for you since you inherited your uncle’s farm. I just like teasing you sometimes, get to see that cute apologetic expression you make.”, Grey answered cheerfully, using her fingers to brush some of Willow’s hair behind her ear. She wanted to get a better look at her beautiful face.

  Willow blushed a deeper red than Grey even thought possible and the two stared at each other awkwardly before Grey broke the silence.

  “I got you something.”, she announced, pulling herself away from Willow and limping back behind the counter.

  “What? Something for me? You really didn`t have to. You’re the one with a birthday tomorrow. I should be getting you things.”, Willow protested timidly, her fingers fiddling with one another. She stared at the floor and kicked it with a subtle gesture of protest that was more for her own sake than Grey’s.

  “Shush Willow, accept my kindness. You’re worth it, trust me.”, Grey replied scrounging under the counter pulling out what seemed like a ratty pile of linens and fur.

  She remained behind the counter gesturing for Willow to come closer. All the excitement had pushed her to the point of exhaustion. She didn’t want Willow to see this however so hid it as best she could. Willow approached the counter shyly reaching out and taking the item unfolding it to reveal a scarf. Willow looked at Grey confused.

  “It`s a scarf.”, Grey expined. “I made it myself, you wear it around your neck to keep it warm. I can only imagine how cold it must get out there. I thought this would help.”

  Willow looked at Grey overwhelmed with emotion, her eyes opening wide glowing like a full moon. There were so many things she wanted to say to her but all her anxiety permitted was a ‘thank you’. Willow left not soon after the scarf wrapped around her neck and two big bags of bone meal under each arm. For a goblin she sure could carry a lot of weight around. A sight that gave Grey a hot flush of excitement at the implications.

  Grey had wanted her to stay longer but knew she had a lot of work to do. Managing a mushroom farm was a lot of work.

  The rest of the day went by uneventfully. Grey decided against staying up for her father to return home choosing instead to go to bed early to hasten the arrival of her Birthday and subsequent present.

  As she y there in bed she stared up at the ceiling watching the shadows cast by the fireflies in her jar dancing about. She mented on how tomorrow everything was going to change for her. Finally an adult she would be eligible to pursue a profession and no longer be a burden to her father.

  Grey was under no illusions that her sickly nature made her incapable of most things but there was one thing she knew she could do. She had always been a curious child growing up investigating anything and everything that caught her eye. It didn`t take her long to discover a hidden compartment in their home made by her father. In it he had kept various unidentifiable artefacts and tomes that were written in a different nguage. Among them all however there was one that she could read, it was a book of historical accounts and in that book she read about the rise of a powerful Necromancer by the name of Thanatos, her father.