Flames of Liberation

Chapter 1

Hanging chimes blew in the soft breeze. The smells of baked goods and spices wafted through the air as those with too much sora to know what to do with bought and sold lavish valuables. The warm sun beat down on the overdressed shoppers as they chatted and laughed. Shining golden jewels sat on multicolored cloths, the jewels reflecting light in all directions. The sound of coins rattling in leather pouches echoed in the marketplace as money traded hands.

Unbeknownst to the upper-class buyers, rolls of bread began disappearing from the bakery stands. Jewelry slipped from tables and the necks of the rich, who were too busy with their own business to notice. Pouches became lighter as golden coins disappeared from within. Even the metal-clad guards posted all along the paths were blind to the actions of this invisible thief.

The culprit of these crimes, 19-year-old Anya Duskheart, slipped by the patrons of the market with ease, her hand-stitched pouches bulging with the treasures of others. As she dodged and weaved through the crowd of aristocrats and nobility, one word escaped her lips.

"Suckers," Anya chuckled, bobbing and weaving past the green and violet gowns of two noblewomen in the midst of conversation. She bumped into a nearby vendor on his way back from the loo and fell. A shining golden necklace fell from her pouch, followed by a  silver bracelet and jade ring.

"Excuse you, miss!" the vendor shouted. He stopped short when he noticed the jewels on the ground next to Anya. "Oi! Those don't belong to you!"

The man's raised voice drew the eyes of many others, among which were a couple guards. The surrounding citizens whispered among one another. Words like "vermin" and "thief" circled the group. A brave man leaned down and picked up the bracelet.

"This is mine!" he shouted. This caused the energy of the crowd to become electric and dangerous.

A female aristocrat in a light blue suit glanced at a nearby woman with short blonde hair. Her gaze dropped to the blonde's hand, which had a tan line on the left ring finger from a missing ring. "That little rat stole my fiancée's ring! I paid good money for that!"

A young man with brown clothes befitting a common worker more than a rich noble slipped through the crowd. His olive skin and green eyes caught Anya's attention as he coolly addressed the mob. "Calm down, everyone! Are you really so unrefined as to insult a commoner?"

"She's no commoner, boy," a guard, wearing armor so shiny he could blind a man at the right angle, scowled. "She's a serial thief!"

The new stranger walked up to the guard and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. "Sir Knight, I'm sure you're itching to bring her to justice, but I assure you. I can handle this. Allow me to speak with her, commoner to commoner."

The knight cocked an eyebrow suspiciously. The man flashed him a smile, his emerald eyes glistening in the light. The guard blushed softly and gestured toward Anya. The man thanked him with a nod and walked to Anya, kneeling down.

"M'lady," he cooed, picking up the jade ring. He then leaned over and whispered, "I'll handle the riff-raff."

Anya, in her confusion, watched as the dark-haired man stood and handed the ring back to the lady in the blue outfit. "Here. Is this the one?"

The lady nodded. "If you wouldn't mind, return it to my fiancée."

The man bowed and winked at her. She scoffed as he turned and walked to the blonde. He slipped the ring onto her finger and smirked. She, too, huffed in annoyance and walked off with her fiancée.

The man had Anya return the stolen items. Somehow, he convinced the rich folk around them to let her keep the money, saying what she stole was insignificant compared to their own riches.

Once the crowd dispersed, the stranger turned to smile at Anya, but she had already left the marketplace with the measly amount of sora she'd accumulated. It wasn't until she felt a strange weight on her arm that she realized he'd slipped a simple gold bracelet onto her wrist in the chaos. What concerned her was the symbol engraved onto the circle at the center: An enclosed fist set ablaze.

Worry set in as she recognized that this was no ordinary embellishment. One of the people there was part of a radical rebel group known across the Queendom: the Ember's Heart. Their actions ranged from protests in the streets to burning down the old labor camps, an important part of Duskvale's economy.

And Anya had a pretty good idea who the rebel in disguise was.