This story is dedicated to my friend Charlow, who of friends is gold and old and Jeremiah, who's new and lets me borrow her glue... Go figure.

And of course, MellyIsSmelly

One in the fire

Arowynn DeVelliano squirmed with discomfort in her tight, frilly, highly revealing dress that was pink of all colours.

“Arrow! Stop wiggling around und stand still,” ordered a hassled-looking Kasandrya, a fading Nglute accent evident in her voice.

Kasandrya and her brother Nathaniel came from a place called Nglund, but came to Myndell when they were 5 and 6 years old because of a famine. Their parents died soon after.

Arowynn herself had lived in Myndell for as long as she could remember and she only had a mother who passed away when she was 6. That’s when they met each other and they sort of looked out for one another ever since.

“Oh my darling companion, do remind me again why do we have to wear these stupid things?” she whined, “I can’t breathe and I feel like I’m hardly wearing anything.”

Her fellow thief gave her a cross look with her hands on her hips. “Because et’s what men like, isn’t it?”

Arrow scowled back. “What if he likes conservative women? Then what are you going to do? Huh?”

“After living with my brother und Mondy, I conclude there is naught of tha kind,” replied her friend in a rather sexist manner.

The door opened a smidgen, and a young olive skinned man about 20 years old with messy black hair stuck his head into the back room with his eyes shut.

“Are you dressed?” he asked.

His sister rolled her eyes. “No, we’re stark nekked, oh brother dearest.”

The man’s face coloured slightly. “Oh, sorry. Just saying that the man is in the tavern, so you better hurry up.”

“We’ll be out in a second.”

Arowynn DeVelliano, Kasandrya Monteque, her brother Nathaniel Monteque, a man called Mondy Lynf and a small 14 year old boy ‘Gerbil’ Tomlin Rakka were a gang of thieves, all of which were once orphans who lived on the street. They called themselves the Shadows. Reason being was because they liked to think themselves swift and never had they ever been caught. They began when Arowynn was 16 the thieving, and they were so good at it, they decided that they could make a living out of it, if it could be called that. The Shadows were slightly different to most thieves, being employed to steal objects that the customer could not get such as various paintings of sentimental value and occasionally the large sack of gold. Of course, being thieves, they always stole something extra for themselves, but the customers never need to know that. As a group, they were the most wanted thieves in Myndell, nobody knowing quite how they work; but for their deeds, they never had ever gotten caught. If they were captured however, they would be put to the gallows for sure.

Arrow stuck a pin forcefully through Kasandrya’s hair with slight annoyance, trying her best to breath in deeply, against the will of her corset which stubbornly refused to let her take a breathe bigger than a small dog’s.

These kinds of jobs she always hated. Being the two women in the group, they had the job of seducing the men they wanted to steal from. Unfortunately, this put them in very awkward situations sometimes, which were to Mondy, Nathaniel and Gerbil’s great amusement. It was usually worse when it was old men they had to bat their eyelids at. Once they thought they were supposed to seduce a man, but it was actually a woman with a man’s name they ended up meeting. Another time, when they were supposed to be looking appealing for a certain man, he turned out to be more interested in Mondy than themselves. Needless to say it was a traumatizing experience for both genders of the group.

The two thieves in disguise stepped into the Empire Tavern that was boisterous and full of whores, sailors and who knows what else.

They caught the eye of a red haired man with a slight grin on his face sitting with Nathaniel and Gerbil.

“Hey Mondy,” greeted Kasandrya in a fake twangy voice as they walked towards the table their friends had settled at, “who’s the poor soul we’ll be doing today?”

The red-haired thief rolled his eyes in the direction of a shadowed man, who sat in the corner of the room.

The man might once have been reasonably good looking if he was not disfigured with white scars and if age had not has been as apparent in his eyes.

“His name’s Symms. Used to be a pirate you know. Great lot they are. They’re like thieves of the ocean,” said Nathaniel with his eyes misting over slightly.

“But what happened?” asked Arowynn curiously.

“No idea. The lovely old lady never graced us with the information but with the description of ‘an ugly old bastard who tricks young ladies with his clever words.’ She seemed quite set against him,” he mused.

“You have to wonder.” Sarcasm dripped from her words as she and Kasandrya made their way over to the man called Symms, going from some places of the bar to make it seem more natural and less suspicious.

He raised his eyes towards them as they approached. Arowynn saw a glimpse of what they were about to steal hidden underneath his shirt.

“Symms, is it?”

“Yeah, that’s me.”

Symms had a rough voice that spoke of many years at the mast, yelling orders and shouts of war. However, today he seemed disinclined to talk to anyone, preferring to wallow in his own presence and Arowynn felt the air of discomfort in talking to them as he shifted slightly in his seat.

“Would you like a drink?” Kasandrya offered, proffering the pirate the keg of beer.

“Nah thanks lass, it’s fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure miss,” he said, looking away at where a drunken sailor was starting up a brawl.

Arowynn began to get annoyed. This plan had always worked before for men like this in bars like this and she had never had to resort to her magick, never using it in 10 years, as those they talked to were usually very drunk or knocked about beforehand and certainly didn’t want to in such a public place. It was always simple, and if anyone had to use magick, it was usually Nathaniel, who mainly used his magick on women who got a little too close for comfort.

“You will drink the beer,” she insisted, her eyes pulsing with blue magick that came out in a blast, happy to be released after being constricted for such a long time.

Symms looked at her in the face.

“Now look here ma’am…” his words were lost as he was drawn into her power.

“DeVelliano,” was Symms’ last word before began to take a drink from the glass and before he took his third gulp, the spiked drink rendered him unconscious.

“Search him,” Kasandrya ordered, beginning to pat the unconscious pirate down.

“It’s under his shirt,” Arowynn told her and she quickly slid her hand around Symms’ neck and unclasped the pendant.

It was a magnificent piece of jewellery with a blue jewel encrusted in the centre with masterful carvings of strange words and it emitted strong magickal pulse that only a heavily endowed magickian could have produced. How a pirate came upon such an exquisite piece of treasure, only Symms would know.

But then again, she reasoned with herself, he was a pirate.

Arowynn noticed the pirate’s eyes fluttering, fighting the drug and they hurried out of the inn.

“Hurry up Arowynn!” Gerbil called, slightly panicking.

The team quickly made the escape they were oh so famous for and into their hidden place that they called ‘The Tunnel’.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

“Euuurghh.”

Today was just not Symms’ day.

First his ship had gotten fired at by some drunken bastard, who was trying to impress his lady-friend, then some thief had cut his purse, and then finally two thieving whores had stolen a very valuable pendant of his. And it was up to him to get it back before it fell into the wrong hands, in which case it would be absolutely disastrous and he would most likely die or go back to the ship and confess that it was stolen to his fellow shipmates and be killed for his idiotic deeds anyway.

But there was one thing that came to his attention that he never even would have imagined.

He saw that girl - the one called Arowynn - emit the same magick that came from his deceased captain, the one who could possibly control the entire ocean with that magick of hers.

Of course, he couldn’t be sure whether it was actually the same magick that she used, but it sure felt like it.

Of course, he could’ve just been imagining it, Symms contemplated. Maybe it was just a bad dream…

A throbbing headache pulsated through his mind as he shifted slightly.

“No, definitely not a dream,” he decided.

There were only a limited amount of bloodlines in the entire world that contained magick, and there were only a few of those were of considerable power.

In the creation of the world, there were the six main gods of the universe and they created humans, but each had their own idea of a perfect human, so six different races were made.

They say that the Nglute race came from Mauria, the goddess of the forest, their dark skin and green eyes making them more in touch with nature.

The Lyndish race came from Donitello, the god of luck, and indeed, they were a lucky race with golden hair and golden hazel eyes, bringing good fortune to anyone who they deemed a friend.

And then there was Rosilna, goddess of the sky. Her humans were the Rondun, who were a beautiful race with pale skin, blue eyes and white hair; they were a race who was easily overpowered by the other nations, but all the great prophets were Rondunian. They usually lived high on mountain tops and loved the lick of the wind on their face as they stood on the cliff tops of Rondun.

Another god was Velina, who was the creator of the Tauron race. Velina was the goddess of flame, her fiery rage inherited into her people who were dominators, but they were full of passion and disliked the cold greatly, but was hungry for the flames’ warmth to caress their bodies at night when they all went out for celebrations. Taurons’ were well known for their festivals and parties which were held every night, and at each festival, there was an enormous bonfire which everyone crowded around to bathe in the heat of the fire.

And then there was Greun, the god of trickery. His people were pale faced and dark haired, cunning and always managing to get on the good side of the most powerful nations. They enjoyed getting the best of everything, indulging themselves on finery. The ones that were the most good looking were the most deceiving of all, turning on their charm to get the best of all people they came across.

Last but not least, there was Amarite. She was the goddess of the sea. Her people were of Myndell who lived and loved by the salty waters of the ocean, most lived by the waters, but a few lived by lakes and rivers. They were drawn to the waters and were instinctive swimmers, lavishing the spray of water on their skin.

Each god or goddess had made these creatures to nurture their element. However, the beings they had created were all greedy and had a lust for more. They would never be satisfied with what they had, always craving for what they didn’t have. And what’s worse is that they had magick.

To settle this, the gods decided to create 6 other humans which had more magickal powers than the rest of them put together to make this chaos right and they did so, but these after many years, these humans also became arrogant and unworthy, and so the sin of man tainted the world.

And there Symms was, feeling the pain of the drug those girls had forced him to drink. He had to get that pendant back, and find out what colour that girl’s magick was once more. She was with a group of people with a kid with a face like a rat.

He took a swig from his hip flask, the sensation of rum, making him feel all tingly on the inside. Now to recover then start his search for that girl, her friends and his pendant.

The old pirate stiffly got out of his chair and headed to the dock to find something for his pounding headache and stiff muscles.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

They had escaped from the tavern, successfully stealing the pendant off the man. All was good so far. Now all they needed to do was get it to their inside man or woman in this case. A grouchy one.-

“Where did we have to go?” Arowynn asked Mondy, who had their instructions written down on a piece of parchment, as he was the only one who could read.

He turned the parchment around the right way up. “We have to go to…49 Maple Street.”

“Down here then,” she pointed down an alleyway that would lead to 49 Maple Street and ran ahead. As thieves, they had to know the city of Myndell as well as the back of their hands, which they also knew pretty well.

She shivered as she strode down the chilly alleyway of Myndell. It was freezing compared to the heated Empire Tavern.

“You’re under arrest by the law,” a deep voice said from the shadow of the building.

“What happened to the lady?” Arowynn asked, slightly confused at the man’s voice.

“She was a set up. We paid her to get you and your little friends, Arowynn DeVelliano.”

“Not that the old hag needed much money. She seemed against the old blighter anyways.”

A guard came out of the shadows where he was hiding and his two troops followed.

“Oh shit,” were the oh-so-simple but oh-so-right words that came out of Mondy’s mouth as the rest of the group came around the corner.

“’Oh shit’ doesn’t really help! Any useful tips that would come in handy right at this very moment would be appreciated,” Arowynn said as they cautiously backed away from the guards.

“Yeah, run.”

And so they turned on their heels and sprinted for their lives.

“Meet at the Tunnel!” Arowynn called out as they scattered in several different directions.

“Shall do!” echoed Kasandrya’s voice.

“Meet you there!” Mondy yelled.

“Yeah, okay!” Gerbil shouted.

There was no response from Nathaniel.

“Nathaniel?” Arowynn paused for a moment, breathless from running.

An anguished yell sounded throughout the alleyways of Myndell with several grunts that came from the guards, and then there was silence.

“Nathaniel!” she yelled running back to where they came.

“She’s over there!” a guard called from where they had run off from.

“Then go and get her fool!” the leader of the pack commanded.

She swerved out of the way as the guard just lunged towards her, his hands outstretched and hit the back of the man’s neck with her bottle of beer that she had stolen just in case, which smashed on his head, a glass shard slitting his neck, cutting one of his vital veins, causing him to start to bleed to death.

Arowynn stared at the bottle handle in horror. She had pretty much just killed a man. She was so totally screwed.

Nathaniel was being held hostage by one of the guards with his hands being tightly clenched behind his back, beginning to look slightly pale at the sight of the dead man’s body as he struggled to get free.

The lazy leader of the guards took it to himself to take out Arowynn, drawing his sword.

The thief took the sword out of the almost-dead man’s scabbard and steadied herself. It was a lot heavier than he expected.

“Let my friend go!” she exclaimed, ducking at the soldier took a swipe at her head with his torch.

“Now why would we do that?” that fat man asked his voice dangerously silky smooth.

“Or else I’ll kill you like I killed him!” Arowynn snarled viciously, and boy did she mean what she said, managing to knock the torch out of the soldier’s hand with her clumsy sword, setting flame to where the alcohol was splattered, giving the fire fuel.

“I’m not dead yet,” came the mumbled voice from the ground.

The fire spread slowly across the scene, engulfing the injured man.

Cries of pain came from the dying man, echoing through the streets as he burned to his painful end.

“You’re already going for thievery and murder, don’t make it a double girlie.” The flames’ reflection dancing in the horrible man’s eyes.

“I don’t care,” she said in desperation, her arms shuddering from blocking a ferocious blow, her foot almost touching the fire that was quickly spreading.

“You’ll be hanged, you know that,” he sneered, walking towards her.

“I don’t-” began Arowynn as she swung back the heavy sword above her head to take a swing, “CARE!”

The sword fell on the flat of its blade and the guard simply batted it away, grabbing the blade with his gloved hand and forced the handle of the sword to hit Arowynn on the temple, knocking her out.

“No!” yelled Nathaniel, wriggling himself harder to be released from the iron grip he was prisoner in. Finally freeing himself, the thief ran towards Arowynn, only to be pushed away from her and beaten mercilessly by the defenders of Myndell.

“We only want her,” explained the one that held him captive who gave Nathaniel as kick as he writhed on the ground. “Now go before you’re off to the gallows too.”

The guards left Nathaniel bruised and beaten in the burning alleyways of Myndell, tears glistening in his eyes as the fire spread.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

A few days later, Symms headed to the market place to buy some healing remedies for his stiff shoulder. He was getting old and his joints were becoming more of a nuisance than anything else.

“That’ll be 7 diners thanks,” the stall owner held out his hand in expectance.

“Thank ye,” he said, dropping 7 coins into his hand, taking the medicine in the other.

“Did you see the fire last night?” Two ladies with nothing better to do, stood gossiping next to the cauliflower.

Symms paused for a second as he dropped his purchase into his bag.

“Yes, I heard the soldiers put a girl in prison that night, and that’s where the fire started.” The older woman added.

“I heard one of them soldiers died,” she said with large eyes.

There was a silence as the two contemplated death.

“The fire spread throughout half the city, and it burned down my poor cousin’s shop it did!”

The other woman continued to chatter, and talked about it quite happily, having a part in the tragedy, although it may have seemed as though she was happy about her cousin’s shop being burned down.

“Oh my goodness! Please send my condolences for you cousin.” The one with the ridiculously big eyes raised a small pale hand to her painted mouth.

“Thank you, but I’d be thankful nobody died, except that soldier of course. That was unlucky that was. All this fire, but no deaths that wasn’t even done by the fire!” said the elder one incredulously.

“Actually, I heard that the soldier was hurt and the fire just finished him off.”

The two gossipers’ conversation was interrupted by a shout that came from their left.

“Stop, thief!”

Symms turned his head to see a small agile young boy who looked about 10 years old running through the crowds to escape from the angry butcher who bore a knife.

It was the boy with the rat-like face he saw that night with the strange girl.

The pirate moved swiftly between the people in the crowded market trying to follow the boy.

He led Symms through a series of tunnels that were underground, but lit by candles crudely stuck on sticks and planted in the ground.

Panting, the aging man hobbled along the illuminated walls, now far behind the rat-face boy. He came across a door that was slightly open, revealing a well-lit room.

Opening the door, Symms saw that it was just one large room past the door, the concrete floors were covered in tattered rugs that had obviously been stolen - although he had no idea how – to his right was a wall plastered with pencil drawings of glamorous rich men and women, their million-dollar smiles grinning at him, with three large badly-made beds roughly pushed together against a wall. On his left there was a mountain of cushions piled up in a slightly decorative way. Next to the cushions was a large table on which were a stack of newspapers on one end and a few scraps of food and several items of precious jewellery on the other, none of which were his pendant, he noted.

On the opposite wall to the door, there was one large shelf on which held piles and piles of priceless objects carelessly stowed out of the way and the occasional stick game or pack of cards graced his view.

There was also another door at the opposite end which there was murmuring voices coming from. Evidently, that was where the rat-faced boy was hiding with his friends.

As the weary pirate passed through the room, the voices became clearer and more pronounced.

“Well how are we supposed to get her back? How about you suggest something rather than just putting down my ideas that might actually save her!” one voice raged.

“How about we try saving our own necks before trying anything stupid!” the other yelled.

“How abut we stop fighting und try und figure somethin’ out,” a familiar female voice suggested calmly amongst the arguing.

“How about I leave…” the rat-boy’s voice muttered, and the door began to open.

The wooden door opened to show two young men, one with fiery red hair, the other with dark skin, both whom seemed angry compared to who seemed to be the dark skinned man’s sister whom simply looked fed up.

“INTRUDER!” the boy with the rat face yelled, pointing at Symms in horror.

The two older males rushed into the room, armed with candlestick holders while the girl just stood there with her mouth open, looking slightly pale.

“Hold up there.” Symms put his hands up in defence.

The candlestick bearing thieves stopped advancing towards him, but still held up their weapons.

“What happened to that other girl? Arowynn, was it?”

At the mention of her name, the members of the gang stiffened. “She got arrested by the guards. She’s awaiting trial at the Pillar of Myndell.”

Made completely out of cold stone and slave labour, the Pillar of Myndell was the place where every villain that had committed crime against the crown went. All the prisoners there were treated like filth by the guards and often prisoners were placed in rooms that were only just big enough to hold them in, not so good for those who disliked small enclosed spaces.

“Did she have my pendant?” Symms asked in his gravely voice.

“Yes. They set us up so they could arrest us,” explained the red head, his voice shaking in anger. “The guards hired an old woman (who didn’t seem to take too kindly at your being here anyway) who told us to go and steal the pendant off you, and when the time came to give it to her we found soldiers there instead and they managed to take Arowynn.”

“But you got away.”

“Yes. They only wanted her for some reason.”

“Well tha’s problematic. We need ta ge’ ‘er ou’ o’ dere.”

“Yes.”

“But why would you be willing to help? I mean, we stole your pendant,” questioned the calmer of the two men.

Symms studied the thieves. They were so young and so gullible and obviously not tried by mouth, but by hand. One slip of the tongue and his secret and whereabouts would spread to the palace faster than you could say ‘dead’. But he looked at their worried faces, full of dismay. They were her friends. They needed to know.

But before he told him, he had to make sure. “Arowynn - what’s her last name?”

“DeVelliano, why do you need to know?”

“Ah…”

“Now answer the question.”

The old pirate sighed. “DeVelliano is the name of a deceased pirate, and a powerful one at tha’, although ye probably ne’er ‘eard o’ ‘im ‘cause ‘e was before yer time.

His name was Eward DeVelliano an’ I have reason to believe she was ‘is only daugh’er. And if tha’s true, then she’ll ‘ave to take ‘is place on the ship an’ she’ll ‘ave the power ta control the seven seas, ‘cause ‘e’s got tha lineage o’ one o’ them six magickians at tha beginnin’ o’ time.”

The thieves stared at him in shock.

“And what reason have we to believe you?” asked the rat-boy.

“Gerbil. Who would make up a lie like tha?” said the dark skinned girl with ‘duh’ written all over her face.

“Because… because he’s a pirate!” Gerbil exclaimed, feeling as though it was a sufficient enough answer.

“And...”

“And! ... We stole from him! You don’t believe him, do you Mondy?” the boy asked hopefully, turning to the red-head.

“And how do know that your weirdo captain even had a daughter?” said Gerbil accusingly, whipping his head back around to look at the pirate again.

“Because you insolent boy, there was a prophecy made about her and I was there!”

“Ooh, and I suppose that she was going to save the world.”

“Ah, in fact, she might just well do that.”

“Save the world from what anyway?”

“They say she’ll save the world from the corrupt minds of humans and Antares, the King of Myndell.”

“We’re corrupt?”

“Do you steal?”

“Oh…”

“Oh is right. And it even rhymed.”

“How did it go?” Gerbil was curious now.

“Er, something along the lines of:

One in tha fire

Two in tha Blood

Three in tha storm

Four in tha flood

Five in anger

Six in ‘ate

Seven in fear

Evil in eigh’

Nine in sorrow

Ten in pain

Eleven in death

Twelve life again

Thir’een steps to tha dark man’s door

Ain’t no comin’ back no more.

It was prophesized by one o’ them from Rondun. O’ course, you cannae trust them anyways with them bein’ not so sure ‘bout nothin’. But dinnae ask me, ‘cause I’m just a pirate an’ ye can neve’ trust a pirate.”

“Hang on a minute. Does that prophecy have something to do with the fire that ‘appened last night?”

“I believe so. Ye’ve go’ a quick mind lass. My ye’d go far.”

Kasandrya had the courtesy to blush from the compliment but pressed on with her argument. “Und apparently, only one person died that night, so does it mean tha’ tha nomber mentioned in each line of the prophecy will die?”

“Aye, die they shall - but come back to life.”

“Come back to life?”

“They said that the twelfth line is important. Twelve chosen people that have died will come back to life, as real living people and will stand by Arowynn DeVelliano, the one who will kill them all.”

“She’s not a murderer,” Nathaniel protested.

“She will be.”

“She’s a good person even though she is a thief! Surely she wouldn’t mean to kill all of those people!”

“She’s still goin ta kill ‘em, whether it be on purpose or not.”

“Okay, I believe him now. Can we go save Arowynn yet?” asked the small boy, evidently content with the pirate’s bizarre not-really-an-explanation.

“NO!” Mondy said insistently. “Then we might get caught!”

“Ah, but not if we have a clever enough plan,” said Symms with a twinkle in his eye.

“And what plan would that be?” asked Mondy doubtfully.

“Somethin’ very clever, if I may say so meself.”

“And that clever thing would be…” Nathaniel said patiently.

“Somethin’ very clever.”

“Yes, now we’ve established the fact that it’s a very clever plan, would you tell us what it is?” his patience wore down quite fast.

“Nay.”

At this moment, his patience was currently non-existent and was overwhelmed with exasperation at the man with the clever plan.

“Well then how are we supposed to save her from the gallows if we don’t even know what the plan is?” asked Mondy dubiously.

“There’d be no sense in tellin’ yer yet lad. ‘Cause then when ye get all drunk from beer tonigh’ yer mouth would be a blabbin’.”

“But you just told us a whole bunch of stuff that we could sell you to the guards with.”

“Aye, but did I tell you how to escape from the Pillar? Nay. That’s good information there.”

“But then-”

“Dinnae doubt me logic. It’s saved me hide on many an occasion.”

“But-”

One look from Symms silenced the curious Nglute. They would have to wait until morning.

However, the old pirate chuckled to himself, thinking himself to be quite clever.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

“Tell me old man! What is the plan?” Nathaniel demanded, thoroughly exasperated as he hauled him out of bed.

“Sweet Amarite, can’t a man sleep in peace, even if it is on the floor? And why ask me at this ungodly time of the mornin’ eh?” he peered at the fed up Nglute from the floor.

“Not until you tell us the plan.”

“All in good time son.”

“Time is of the essence! Arowynn is due to be trialled in four hours! FOUR!”

“Must’ve overslept then. Alrighty, get yer mates over ‘ere and I’ll take ye to a safe place.”

The four Shadows followed the pirate to the dock where he ushered them aboard a large ship that bore a large hole.

There were a few men on board the boat.

“Welcome aboard the Siren mates, but watch yer pockets. There be pirate ‘ere.”

“No-Eye Deer!” Symms began talking to a man with one eye. “We’ll be a talkin’ private talk in tha cap’in’s cabin. No-one’s to be disturbin’ us ‘ere.”

“Aye, sir.”

Gerbil, Mondy and Kasandrya stood around him expectantly.

“Alright then. We know that she’s going to go to the palace to be judged by them high and mighties, righto?”

“Yea.”

“Well, that’s when we’re going to save her.”

“How?” Nathaniel was on the verge of exploding.

Symms threw a puffy, heavily layered dress at the ticking time bomb.

"See if that fits ye boy, we're going on an adventure."

And so it begins! Mwahahahaha! It’s not very interesting so far… I’ve come to believe. Oh wells. Oh yes, and before I forget - I don't own the poem. It was shown to me by my friend.