A/N: A rewrite. Plot still the same, but some characters and events are deleted. New events are set in the place of the old one. Sorry y'all.
Summary: Solo's a street thief, who's taken in by nobles, given a second chance to redeem herself. Still, she rebels against the monarchy, knowing if she doesn't, the suffering in the city will continue.
The dark evening sunk in, stretching its shadowed fingertips across the city of Galinsea. The sky was a deepening cobalt, the crescent moon: a silver of gold. Gray clouds drifted sleepily, hiding the twinkling stars from the city below.
The market had closed its shops; few pedestrians walked the lonely streets. Chickens clucked in their coop while horses dozed against their stalls. The city was asleep; even the slave pens were quiet beside the occasional clank of chains.
A silhouette ran across the walls and vanished into a back street. From the shadows, golden eyes scaled the gray walls and descended on the soldiers, who guarded the entrance of the building.
The silver light of a blade flashed in the night's miasma before digging deep into the door's lintel. The soldiers sprang into action, quickly scanning the hilt for identification of the owner. As they strode for the alley, the slim shadow clambered on to the roof. A shutter was forced open and the thief slipped into the guarded building.
Mage light flickered in the cryptic room, giving everything a ghostly appearance. The globes of magery lit the thief's face.
She was young, seventeen at the most. Short-cropped hair, almost the color of midnight, framed a thin, pale face. Five feet and four inches tall, she was a wraith at night and a freak in the morning.
A ruby carved sculpture winked in the gloomy atmosphere. Sapphire eyes glowed from slanted slits, its crimson tail wrapped the body like a serpent's, a perfect picture of a two-inch dragon.
She took a step forward before realizing the red rays surrounding the sculpture. The thief hesitated.
A thin smile met her lips and she leaned forward to blow out a candle. The rays vanished with the dead flame. She picked off a red tint of glass stuck onto the wax. With light to aid the glass, it produced the warning effect of red as it bounced off the eight mirrors placed tactfully around the room.
"This has got to be either the world's greatest let down or greatest genius," she muttered, a smirk on her face.
She slipped the sculpture into her pocket and climbed out of the window. AS she leapt down from the roof, a shout filled the brittle air.
"That's Solo Casdea! Get her!"
The golden eyed thief whirled around to see three soldiers charging toward her. Another two were positioned at her back. Escaping was impossible at the second.
"You boys finally caught on to my strategies," Solo said sarcastically. "Congratulations."
"Thief, you've got us in trouble a dozen times, you'll pay now!"
"Sorry, I don't have the money to pay you. Give me a month or two so I can steal more from you money rich-bags."
"Quit your mockery. You can leave your sweet song to the executioner tomorrow," a soldier jeered.
"Sorry," she replied, lowering her eyelashes. "I don't want his silver bracelets."
She dodged a fist thrown at her and swung her foot into her attacker's knee. Someone attempted to grab her by the throat, but only received an embrace of a fellow soldier. She unclasped a dagger she hid in her sleeves and sank it into the soldier who head locked her with his arms. She escaped the hands of the remaining guards and scampered onto the top of a tower of crates.
As she got to the top, the crates began to tremble under her weight. She caught her balance and peered down to see the anxious pursuers, who were figuring out a way to get her down. Solo easily sprang onto the top of a roof and set a foot on the top wooden box. She smirked and sent the tower tumbling over the soldiers.
"I told you not to mess with me, when will you people learn?"
She straightened, grinning widely. From the corner of her eye, she saw a dark figure standing in her way. She frowned. Who was this intruder of happiness?
The stranger held a rod at his side. A black cloth was draped around the unusually large knob of the staff. A large hood veiled the figure's face from the night-light. A cloak was wrapped around the person's tall frame.
Solo sniffed irritably. A mage.
"Who do you think you are to stand in my way?" Solo asked rudely. She hated mages and found no urge to be polite to them.
"Who do you think you are to steal the ruby dragon of the Duke?" the soft voice inquired from the stranger.
Solo scrutinized her attention on him; his voice was definitely male. He was probably six feet tall, but all other features were hidden.
"Why do you hide behind your hood? Too ugly to look at?" Solo taunted.
"My looks have nothing to do with my motives here," the mage said softly.
"Then show your face," she demanded. "If your appearances don't matter, then draw back your cloak." No reply. "Probably some old convict with inflamed scars or a lost eye." She watched the unmoving cloth over the knob. "What's that? A magic bunny?"
"I don't have a magician's black hat," came the answer. "Give me the dragon and all will be forgotten."
"Not in my life," Solo answered. "I rather steal this pretty trinket and get killed than hand it over."
She yanked out a dagger from her sleeve and threw it sideways at him. The weapon came down toward the man's head, then it froze in airborne. A emerald haze enveloped the dagger and it crumbled into splinters of sand at their feet. Solo hastily took a step back, her eyes wide.
"So life isn't as important as riches?" the man asked so gently, Solo shifted uncomfortably under the hidden eyes of the stranger.
"Not in the Colony's Code. We've got nothing to live for."
"I see..." a perplexed tone came from the mage. "Too bad then." His hand traveled to the flap of the cloth.
The black cover slumped down on to the floor, drifting down to the man's feet. Solo threw up her arm to shield her eyes from the bright light, which exploded from the head of the staff. A luminous icy blue sphere hovered in midair, held in placed by a slender wooden hook.
The air became bitter and stung like needles pricked upon the skin. A similar blue haze wrapped itself around the thief's body and sank into the pores of her skin. Solo's knees buckled and she stumbled to the ground, hugging her body to keep warmth. A string of cerulean blue wrapped around Solo's right wrist and tentatively snapped her left hand with the other. She clamped her eyes shut, feeling the cold freezing sensation of morning rain.
The brilliant light vanished as the cloth was replaced over the orb. Solo felt a warm cloak wrap itself around her as the man came closer. Strong hands helped adjust the cloak into a more comfortable position but she jerked away, managing to push the mage to the floor.
The hood fell back from his head, revealing short-cropped black hair. He was about the same age as her, possibly older. Solo snorted, despite her chattering teeth.
"Y...y...you were hiding your h...h...air? What bad hair...oh..."
Solo felt herself looking into an endless void, which drew in dark secrets, but hid them in the mists. She couldn't stop gaping at those queer eyes. As iridescent as a dragonfly's wings, his eyes were of two different colors: emerald like spring leaves and sapphire like the sea's waters. They were quiet and promised peace if asked for.
"You..."she began, then she laughed. "H...have....very strange eyes. Y...y....you're almost a freak, like me!" She coughed as she shuddered. "Is that what you were hiding, pretty boy?"
The young man yanked Solo's prize away from her pocket and she scrambled to get it, only to fall haplessly on her face. "Gimme that back!"
The mage smiled. He was handsome, strange eyes or no. "I can't do that."
"Master Seth!" The young man turned back to witness five of the soldiers, who were earlier deceived by Solo. "That's the thief we've been speaking of. Solo Casdea."
Seth looked back at Solo who muttered a curse at them.
"We've been on the look out for her for six years, thank the gods you finally caught the street thief!"
"When do thieves give their names to the law?" Seth inquired, surprise in his voice.
Solo lunged at Seth, who easily avoided her by taking a step back. She spat at the mage's feet.
"When do mages stick their nebs into other people's problems?" Solo demanded.
The soldiers hauled Solo up to her feet ruthlessly. "Permission to take her away from your hands?"
"Permission granted," Seth answered, sauntering off with his staff.
Solo felt the soft texture of his cloak touch her cheek and she recognized the kindness in his act. Yet...
"I hope you rot in hell!"