Fantasy world
Kaelmart Soap factory
"Ah... I never thought soap could smell this nice," murmured a boy, no more than seventeen or eighteen, his sleeves rolled up to the elbows, hands slick with the remnants of cooled soap mix. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth—not one of amusement, but of quiet wonder. "Even the air feels good."
His name was Boris—a simple, sturdy name, common among the folk of Ginip. He had never known comfort or luxury—only empty stomachs, patched clothing, and the unspoken duty of providing for those weaker than himself.
He was part of Group 3—the Pour and Mold team. There were fifteen members in total, all working side by side in the tall, warm hall of the factory. Their job was simple in words, but not in practice.
Large copper vats stood along the wall, still warm from the boil. The thick mixture inside—a blend of oils, lye, herbs, and water—had cooled to just the right point. Now it was ready to be poured.
