OOC: Yet another RPG, this time with three of my friends. I realize that because of the number of authors this may get a bit hairy, but I'll do my best to make it easier for the reader. Everything written as Amber Kaida is mine, anyone else is not. I do not own any of Tamora Pierce's lovely characters or inventions.
Amber had always felt different from the other children in the small village where she was born, a place touched seldom by technologies or even the common academic mages. Touli, her village, was in Sotat, about a week's journey by horse from Hajra. Oh yes, occasionally a child born in the village made their toys move, or pictures appear in the fire, but that was about as irregular is it got. Those who left the village never came back. Who would want to, once they had seen what more the world had to offer? But little of the rest of the world ever came to them… and so, few ever thought of the rest of the world. It had begun when she was only five. Her mother had lit a candle, and set it on the floor to light Amber's play. When she came back, she was shocked to find the little girl cradling the flame in the palm of a hand still chubby with baby fat. Amber hadn't remembered that day, but her mother called her 'Ember' from then on.
It began to get worse on her ninth name-day. It fell on a feast day, and bright bonfires were lit in pits, the smells of roast meat quickly filling the summer air.
x
"Catch!" Ember yelled at Lauren, a close friend of hers. They were playing ball in the night air, waiting for their meal to be ready. Throwing the small stitched ball as far as she could, she laughed, watching her friend tumble backwards in an attempt to catch it.
"Now throw!" she cried, stretching her hands above her hands. Panting, Lauren scrambled to her feet.
"Ha!" Lauren screeched triumphantly as the ball sailed just over her outstretched fingers. She dived backwards without thought. Her laugh of delight was choked off as she began to fall into the ground. Orange filled her vision, with flickers of yellow, red, and licks of blue. Roars cracked the air, matching her screams. It was only a moment before she realized things were not all they should be. All she had ever learned told her she should be writhing in pain- she had seen men with burn scars before. But… she wasn't. What is going on? she thought, sitting up on the glowing coals.It's not even that hot in here… just kind of… ticklish! She giggled, her hair flying up with the sparks. The fire seemed to whisper in her ears, of comfort, and strength. Then, feeling a dry sort of sliding on her skin, she looked down. Her dress was in flames, curling into specks of ash. A glance beside her showed her ball, half-melted.
"Amber!" screamed a new voice, above the flames. Through gaps in the fire, she saw her mother's face, twisted with fear. Seconds later, buckets of water cascaded down, quenching her new-found friend.
"Mother?" her voice quavered, as strong arms reached down to pull her back into the darkness.
x
She was tired of running. Ember had been running forever, it seemed to her; but then, time seems so long to one so young. Running from her home, her family, her friends… but they weren't her friends anymore. It would take more than time to forget the looks of horror on their faces as she emerged… unscathed… not a burn mark to be seen. They had declared her a witch, unseen for so long in their peaceful village, come to tear them apart…
They had been set upon burning her at the stake, the fools, an ancient practise almost forgotten. The fools hadn't seemed to realize that if one fire hadn't killed her, another would not either… and so she had run from her home as soon as the fire consumed her bonds, leaping through the crowd with her clothes aflame, flapping her arms like the demon they believed she was. In their terror, none had thought to strike her down, and so she had fled…
For awhile it had been easy on her own, as the land was hers; water was there, to wash her fast and quench her thirst, while berry bushes filled her stomach. Then the dogs had come, pups she had stroked as a child set upon her by her neighbours. It was then she caught her first real glimpse of the horrors within her. The scent of burnt meat had followed her for leagues.
It took a month to reach Hajra, even running when she wasn't hitching a ride on the back of a passing wagon, and running when the driver and guards found out. But once she reached the city, dirty, dusty, a month of filth on her face… It didn't take the gangs long to find her, even such a little runt like her.
x
One minute she was alone in the little back alley with her 'attained' apple, the next people surrounded her. "You're in Black Weasel territory, little girl," a tall, skinny boy sneered at her, snatching her supper deftly. He took a bite, speaking the next words through it. "And that ain't good. For you." He snickered. A slip of a girl hit him with the back of her hand, not taking her narrowed eyes off Ember.
"That was good work back there, kid," she whispered, leaning close. "That food-bag didn't even see you." Ember stared back, her innocent eyes round. "Tell ya what," the girl spoke softly. "You help us out… do what we tell ya… and we'll take care of you. I'm Spirit," she said, straightening. "And if you refuse, well…" she glanced at the boy. "Hawk here's been waiting for someone to… practise on." A maniacal gleam appeared in Hawk's eyes.
The innocent look of Ember's eyes quickly turned to one of fear, and she nodded furiously. A slim, pale hand offered a black rag. "Tie it on a arm or leg. Like this," she said, presenting her own arm. Mimicking what she saw, Ember deftly knotted the scrap of fabric over her own rags she called clothes. "And this," Spirit said, smearing something cool next to Ember's eye, making her flinch. Sighing, the gang leader pointed at a black streak next to her own right eye. "It's the other gang marking," she gently explained.
"Now," Spirit said, taking Ember under her arm and beginning to walk, winking over Ember's head at the rest of the gang. "The first thing we gotta do is get you some proper clothes…"
x
"That's the last time you fail us," Hawk jeered, gripping Ember's arm in his huge hand, the burning house a macabre backdrop to the scene. Tears filled her eyes, blurring her vision. She was older than she had been the first time Hawk had threatened her, but so was he, and where she was slim and lithe he was muscle and power. No one would come to her aid, either. Her job was far from their territory, and only Hawk had been assigned to watch her. "You're about to find out what real pain is," he whispered, his eyes glittering darkly. Her eyes flicked to the crude 'x' tattoo on one of her hands.
"Oh, much more than that," he breathed. "More than that." His fist raised, and all Ember knew was blackness.
x
"And I don't want to here ya moanin', either, ya street rat," the guard spat, tossing Ember into a dank cell none too gently. "Yer lucky no one died in that fire," he said darkly, and turned, leaving her alone in the night. Slowly, she opened one eye, wincing. She gingerly raised a hand, touching her face with feather-light caresses. Her other eye was swollen shut, her lip huge. Small cuts covered her right cheek, smudging her gang mark. Hawk had torn off her black rag. Her left arm hung limply at her side at a strange angle, the web between thumb and forefinger smarting with a new tattoo. A small whimper escaped her broken lips when she tried to stand, her leg buckling under her.
"Don't try to stand," a brisk voice said from beyond the bars. "It'll only make it worse." Ember raised her head, wincing at the agony of her body. Who…"I am Master Niklaran Goldeye," the man said, as a lantern flared into existence. His dark eyes bored into her light ones. To her, they seemed to eat the light, and at the same time throw it back at her. He raised the lantern above his head, taking a good look at her. Ember curled instinctively into a ball, not wanting him to see the extent of her injuries despite the pain the action caused. If he knew she could not stand… Was he here to beat her? Had the guard heard her whimper? Seeing her fear, the black eyes were suddenly warm.
"I won't hurt you," he whispered, stepping softly forward. "I'm going to take you away from here. Somewhere you'll be safe…" Is he a gang leader? she thought, confused.But he's a Bag… what's goin' on?! Master Nik… what was it? Master Niklaran. He had stooped over her, long, cool fingers tracing a jutting bone on her arm. Ember flinched, sucking air through her teeth. His hand withdrew hastily.
"I'm sorry," he breathed, sympathy in his dark eyes. But sympathy was not something she appreciated, not after five years on the streets. There, sympathy meant pain, or worse.
"Safe," she hissed, throwing caution to the winds. "And you had to wait until just now? Till after they mark me, and me mate near…" she choked on the words, her throat betraying her. Ember looked at the fresh tattoo again, identical to the one on her other hand. Rage flared in her, feeding on her emotions like the fire she loved. "I hate you!" she screamed, clenching her fists. "I hateeveryone!" Behind her, a thin rag of a blanket on the stone floor burst into flames. Master Niklaran raised his eyebrows in interest, then surprise, and almost fear as Ember's clothes started to smolder. With a wordless cry of fury, she hauled her body up, ignoring the stabs of agony, and swung at him.
Fire flashed before her vision, and the room went dark.
x
"Just look what she has done! Nearly killed us all… it's a wonder we all got out alive!" a frazzled Dedicate cried, gesturing wildly over her shoulder at the smoking ruins of the Dorm. "Irefuse to have an arsonist in the dorms. I willnot have my girls endangered…"
Niko shook his head gently, his black hair mussed. Though it was the black of night, everyone was awake- and with good reason. Girls stood shivering in huddled groups, backs bent against the cool summer night, and Dedicates running around like chickens, hair black with soot. Ember was the only one who smiled, a dreamy grin focused on no one in particular.The fire… it's so beautiful. But she had more important matters at hand than fire. The girl she had been shouting at when the fire started stared at her with frightened eyes, but worse were the Dedicate's. The woman stood over her, gesturing wildly at Niko over Ember's head, though it was a wonder the woman managed to do that. The Dedicate was short, and Ember by no means was, even if she wasn't tall.
"Look at her! She's smiling! Shelikes what she's done the-" The Dedicate's hand raised in a fist, and Ember braced for the blow. Running away always made the adults want to hit you more. Better just to get it over with… And so she shifted, presenting the arm not in a sling. There was a sound of flesh hitting flesh, and Ember risked a look. Niko had caught the Dedicate's hand in his own, a look of cool fury emanating from him. "I ask you not strike a student in my presence, especially not an injured one, that I have brought myself," he softly spoke, enunciating each syllable carefully. "Leave us," he commanded crisply, and to Ember's surprise she went.
"I know you didn't mean to do this," Niko said quietly, bending his tall frame until they were level. "And you don't have to worry that I'll hurt you," he added seriously, correctly interpreting what she was thinking. He sighed, burying his head in his hands. "I'm getting too old for this," he told the air, and gently took Ember by the elbow, steering her away from the staring eyes of the Dorm. "You may stay at Discipline," he informed her as they began to walk, and Ember stole one last glance back to the glowing wreckFire…