Preparations for the Street Market of the GodForsaken City

Preparations for the Street Market of the GodForsaken City

The smell of anise taffy being pulled, thick and sugary, wafted from the lighthouse kitchen, a rare scent of sweetness in a world frozen by the eternal chill.

BoomFuzzy, his wooly beard reflecting the low light of the oil lamps, his massive long grey dreadlocks braids behind him and tied out of the way, stirred the cauldron gently, ensuring the candy reached the perfect consistency. The ice age had stolen the warmth of the world, but in the kitchen, his large, steady hands-hands that could craft both comfort and destruction-worked tirelessly.

The rich fragrance of salt water taffy wafted through the lighthouse.

Quaraun stood by, fidgeting, unable to mask his unease. The last thing he wanted was to be anywhere near the boiling cauldron.

"Unicorn, should this not be done already? We have other things to do before we leave."

BoomFuzzy grunted, squinting through the haze of heat rising from the stove, his goggles perched on his head keeping his dreadlocks out of his face.

"Taffy's nae somethin' ye rush, Love. This ain't for us-this is for the folk at the GodForsaken City. I make it faster for us because yis too impatient. We've a market to prepare for, nae time to rush perfection."

"Still, it takes too long. Should I not be... doing something useful to help you?"

Quaraun took a step back, his gaze darting toward the stacks of silk they'd planned to sell. It was his true craft, and much preferred to the art of boiling sugar.

"Nay," BoomFuzzy said, his thick Scottish accent emphasizing the word. "Ye've done yer bit with the silk. Now let me handle the taffy. Focus on the other goods, aye? We'll sell them by the dozen, if the Goat doesn't eat them all first. Taffy and silk, the market will eat it up."

"I'm a Sheep," GhoulSpawn said.

"Aye, and ya been stuffing me wrapped saltwater taffy in ya pockets."

"Should I put them back?"

"No. Keep 'em. Just leave the rest for me to sell tomorrow, eh?"

GhoulSpawn, leaning in the doorway of the kitchen, smirked at the exchange.

"If it's one thing this place does well, it's making things to sell," he muttered, scratching at his fleece. "I feel kind of useless in that regard."

GhoulSpawn grabbed a bottle of spices from the shelf and stuffed it in his pocket.

Quaraun raised an eyebrow.

"And what is it you are doing? Stealing your idea of hard work again, Glinta?"

"Not stealing," GhoulSpawn said with a shrug. "Just making sure I'm not standing in your way. The whole market setup is yours and BoomFuzzy's mess, not mine."

"You would say that," Quaraun muttered, turning back to the silk, inspecting it carefully. "Just make sure the tents are set up. And the lanterns-do not forget the lanterns this time."

"Aye, aye," GhoulSpawn responded, rolling his eyes. "The lanterns. I won't forget."

"Put the jar of cloves back too."

GhoulSpawn sighed and pulled the jar back out of his pocket.

BoomFuzzy gave a grunt of approval as he removed the taffy from the pot and began stretching it, pulling it carefully until it was glossy and firm. He paused to catch his breath, casting a sideways glance at Quaraun.

"No' bad, eh? This will bring in a good coin. Aye, ye've yer silk. I've me taffy. Together, we'll be the talk of the market."

Quaraun nodded slowly, the thought of the market in The GodForsaken City looming over him.

"I suppose you are right. Let us make sure everything is ready. We cannot afford delays." Quaraun shivered at the sight of the hot sugar boiling. "It is... hot. I... Do you need help?"

BoomFuzzy chuckled low, the sound vibrating through his chest.

"Ye know, ye cannae cook, me wee pink JellyElf. Best ye just watch and stay out o' me way."

Quaraun sighed, the frustration evident on his face.

"I am not helpless..."

"No," BoomFuzzy replied, his voice softening a bit as he saw Quaraun's frown. "But ye don't like heat. Ya don't like sticky. Ya don't like messes. And ye're nae much good in a kitchen, either. Besides, I like watchin' ye flinch when the taffy pulls too far."

"It will hit the floor."

"It never does. Hooks always catch it."

"Glinta, will you stop laughing?" Quaraun shot a pointed look toward GhoulSpawn, who had been hovering nearby, silently watching with a grin.

"I wasn't laughing," GhoulSpawn muttered, looking around for something to pilfer. He picked up a wooden spoon and pretended to be interested in its woodgrain. "I was just... observing."

BoomFuzzy rolled his eyes.

"Aye, observing. Just like ye 'observe' everything that isn't nailed down."

"You like that I gather supplies when they are supplies you need."

"Aye, but I don't need ya gathering my kitchen utensils while I am using them."

BoomFuzzy snatched the spoon from GhoulSpawn and bopped him on the head with it.

"Git out o' me kitchen! Go sharpen ya thieving skills elsewhere!"

Quaraun ignored the banter, walking over to the small stack of books he had brought with him into the kitchen, setting them on the table. The scent of the anise taffy hung heavy in the air, making his stomach flutter hungrily.

As the preparations continued, the trio fell into their own rhythm, each focusing on their tasks. The street market was important-it wasn't just about trading goods. It was a chance to gather supplies, barter for materials, and perhaps most crucially, a place to gather information from the survivors that still wandered through the cities, ravaged by the years of cold and chaos.

And so they worked, side by side, as they had so many times before. The cold outside could not reach them in the warmth of the lighthouse, and as BoomFuzzy wrapped the fresh pulled taffy in wax paper and set each piece aside to cool, they knew that the next day would bring the bustle of the market-their only real connection to the world outside their isolated existence.

| ©2025 Wendy Christine Allen | All Rights Reserved | Cross Published on Medium |