The Unforeseen Spark

Nothing Will Change

     Roetta managed to arrive early to the marketplace despite being held back by her attempts to not wake the kids. The crisp morning air was enough to send energy flooding through her veins, and the rush of the morning hour reminded her of why she was there. Finding an open spot near the middle-side to the left, she began to set up her booth.
       The market was located in a circular courtyard with the booths of the sellers located on the ring of it, close to the building that bordered the place. People of various origins gathered here early in the morning to grab the best spots, hoping to sell whatever strange treasures or goods they had came across. Roetta was one of them, hoping to make some good money by selling some of her belongings.
       For most of the day the market was open, but everyone would pack up their booths at different times depending on how successful the day was for them. The day was not going very well for Roetta, with only a couple of her items being sold. It seemed no one wanted her old clothes, but that was the only thing she had left to sell. Most of the other venders already packed up their booths, but she was one of the desperate ones still left, trying to make just one more coin. It seemed like the king's taxes were taking their toll on everyone as of late.
      "Hey, I thought I taught you better than this?"
     A quick look to her right revealed Celso, who was slowly approaching with his boots clicking on the cobble street. This sight and his words made her recall a memory of another time located in the distant past.
      She was younger, around the age of ten, with only a faded blue nightgown to call her own. Even among the busy and exotic people in the market, she stood out with her taunt skin, pulled tight against bone, and her dirt crusted blonde hair that was barely able to be seen from her spot behind her booth.
      Even though the marketplace was located in the lower parts, the people setting up their goods there were usually stable enough from the money coming in from their sales that they could afford nicer clothing as well as other goods and needs. Her appearance was a shock to the people around her, but there was no action to get rid of her. After all, she was working to earn her money just like they were, and at some point in their lives, they knew that they had also had the same look of hunger and desperation that was mirrored onto her pale, bony face.
      Setting a big bundled cloth on top of her makeshift booth of rotten wooden crates, Roetta unwrapped the knot and opened it to reveal golden stopwatches and ruby necklaces that probably cost more than everything in the market combined. This sight, coupled with her appearance, drew the attention of everyone in the marketplace.
      The objects were obviously stolen, that everyone could tell, and even though it was impressive that she managed to procure such expensive jewelry, no one was eager to buy stolen goods and get caught with it later on. The owners of said jewelry were probably livid and actively searching for the thief. If they were seen with it, they would be sent off to jail without a word.
      Hours had past but there was still not a single person interested in her wares. All her effort for acquiring the jewelry would be for nothing and she would be going back to the orphanage without a single coin to her name.
     About to give up and take down her wares from her booth, she was interrupted by a man's voice. It was then that her final hope came to her.
    "You're never going to get a sale like that."
     Peeking over the edge of the stand, she was able to catch a glimpse of the man. Standing on the tips of her toes, she used the counter to lift herself up and see more of the man's appearance.
      He was a tanned fellow with long, black hair pulled back into a low ponytail. The studs of his earrings shimmered in the dying light of the sun as well as his eyes. Those now familiar grey eyes promised of mischief and safety, something she never had as a child, and they seemed to make her trust him, even when he was a stranger.
      Roetta could remember the scene so vividly from that day in her youth. Soon after he found her there, he helped school her in the ways of the trade and picked her up from her low place in the mud. She had much to owe to Celso - if he hadn't saved her that day, she, nor any of the kids at the orphanage, would still be alive today.
     Just remembering that state of desperation sent shivers down her spine. She would never let those kids feel what she felt so long ago.
     Celso, upon seeing her shiver, knew what she was thinking about and regretted mentioning it. Almost as if to change the topic, he stepped behind the booth and instructed her on what to do.
     "You need to narrow your sights on a specific group. It is useless if you try to show off these items to people who have no use for this, so think of people who will and try to sell it to them."
      Taking in his advice, she looked around and spotted a group of women, obviously from the upper parts from their way of dress, going on a late afternoon stroll. They looked old enough to be married and have children but young enough to not be married for long. This meant that they would probably only have a small amount of children, maybe one or two, and would probably be looking into making clothes personally for them. This idea was common for new mothers, but they would soon learn that the idea was impractical after three or four kids have been born. This was something she learned from Ms. Diaton, who frequently vented to Roetta about the problems she had as a mother in hopes that Roetta wouldn't repeat it (not that she was going to ever become a mother soon, Roetta would remind her).
      "Target found."
      Hearing her words, Celso let out a small chuckle. The response came from when she was younger, selling things side by side with him when she still worked in the marketplace. It was something they did to make the job fun under the endless heat of the sun and hearing it now sparked those old memories.
     "Initiating the mission in three...two...one!"
      This small whisper went unheard by the ladies and they were quickly pulled into her trap.
     "Young misses, I couldn't help but notice the beautiful rings on your fingers. Since you are married, I was wondering how it's like to be with your partner in that way."
     This instantly caught their attention. The newly married women were excited about their fresh status and when they were excited, they started spilling every bit of information that came to them.
      "Oh it's wonderful! I've been married for a year and we were just discussing starting a family together! Are you two planning on getting married anytime soon? If so, it's definitely nothing to be afraid of!"
      The happy-go-lucky woman was getting on her nerves, and the marriage to Celso comment made it feel like steam was coming out of her ears. Ohoho, just wait until you get to five years of marriage, then you're going to be begging to be single then.
       It took Celso's small giggle that barely reached her ears to draw her from her thoughts. Seeing how he obviously felt amusement from her misery, she quickly stomped down on his foot and continued the conversation with the women.
       "If you are about to have a baby, these clothes would help greatly with that. My grandmother did the same for my mother and she looked better than all of the other babies in town."
      Roetta continued her bullshitting with a clear goal in mind. I'm going to make this woman regret all of her life choices.
      "Really? Well then I would have to look into getting some. With the new taxes from our benevolent king, cheap fabrics are hard to come by."
      After the woman bought a couple of items, the others from the group followed in behind her and bought every last thing from the table. Plastering on a fake smile, she gritted her teeth together and shouted "Have a great day!" to the retreating women. When the women had disappeared completely, Celso finally let out his laughter. Bending over, he started wheezing, unafraid of the glare that was being sent his way.
      "I can't believe that happened! She even thought we were together! I mean you couldn't get the energy between us more wrong than that!"
     Through his wheezing, Roetta was quickly packing up the booth and was prepared to make one last remark before leaving: "Not exactly, she could of thought you were my father since you look old enough to be one."
     With that, she turned and made her way to the exit of the marketplace. Celso followed behind with a retort at the ready, "Hey, I'm only six years older than you kid!"
      She was about to respond to his pointless banter, but it died at the tip of her tongue upon seeing a cloud of gray ash and smoke rising in the sky in the distance. Her whole body froze in place, causing Celso to also stop and send a look of concern her way. She felt every bit of her being scream in discomfort, but was confused as to why. It only took her a second to understand though, and quickly sprint off in that direction.
       She couldn't hear anything in her state of panic. Everything, from Celso's questioning cries to the pounding of her boots on cobble-turned-dirt roads, was all pushed into the background. Only one thought remained. Repeated over and over in her head as she turned corner after corner, passing familiar buildings and places that couldn't be any more foreign to her in that moment. Everything seemed wrong and unexpectedly distant. Her one thought turned into a prayer and she held onto it with each passing step.
      When I turn this corner, everything will be fine. Everyone will be playing around and just waiting to greet me with their smiles and open arms. Benett would read to me and Rosemarie would be standing behind the tree to the left of  the orphanage, waiting to tackle me when I arrive. Nothing will change, everything will be exactly as I left it.
     Just please don't let it be them.
     Turning the corner, Roetta's hopes were met with raging flames and cries of despair.