Nadia

I marvelled as the glowing sun began to rise from the ground. It overpowered the smog filled sky, shining through to reveal fiery colours where I could witness it's rays embracing the village with its warmth.

I'd been sat on the window pane for at least an hour, waiting for the sun to emerge from the earth and not for a single moment did I look away. There was something mesmerising about the sunrise that made me wake up early every morning just so I could see it again. It reminded me there was always a new day, another chance to make things better.

With my face pressed against the cracked window glass, I looked down to see the village people below rushing along the streets. Not one of them looked up to see the sunrise, too caught up in their dull lives to look up and see something eternally beautiful. I pitied the people below; they didn't know what they were missing out on.

Sighing, I finally looked away from the window and to where Broddy slept peacefully. He had his hands covering his face, wrapping himself in the thin sheets. The metal bed frame was rusted and the mattress stained with some coffee we'd never drank.

It wasn't a perfect place for him to grow up, but an empty hotel was the best I could do. Living in the streets of Wayston village was far too dangerous for even the most street wise. Our new place was definitely a step up from the squalid mill we used to live in with a couple others. I couldn't complain.

"Broddy." I whispered, reaching down from the window ledge to shake him. He groaned and pushed my hand away but finally his green eyes flickered open.

He climbed from his bed with a yawn, setting himself across from me on the window ledge. Broddy didn't say anything, instead he watched villagers rushing to the market down below.

The village square had began to fill with people even at such an early hour, each desperate to get a bargain item they didn't need.
"I don't want you to come with me today. "I told him, leaning forwards to ruffle his dark hair through my fingers, it was slightly greasy but it didn't matter; nobody would see him anyway.

"But I don't want to stay here by myself again." he argued, with an angry huff.

"Not my problem." I sneered, pushing him from my lap. He landed with a thump onto the wooden floorboards. "I'll get us some food but If I get caught I won't let you also be taken with me."I explained for the tenth time because he never listened. "If one of the dealers catch you you're done for."

I was good at stealing. It was an art I'd perfected over the years and when hungry, something about my desperation made my hands fumble through pockets so quickly.

At fifteen years old it was a hard routine to get used to without my mother, though I managed eventually. I used to think committing crime was wrong until I saw all the corruption that even the rich took part in. It wasn't wrong for me to do it; if nobody helped me, I'd help myself.

Still, I didn't want Broddy involved in what I had to do, he was too young to get caught.
I promised him I'd let him help me when he turned ten in January, just after Christmas. It would be hard to watch him do what I'd hated doing for the last four years of my life.

"I can help you," he said, running to my old coat hung up on the unhinged door. "Look." He walked past the coat, slightly nudging it and as the coat moved he quickly inserted his hand in the pocket and took loose coins. He didn't let the coins jingle or pull too hard on the material. Just how I'd do it. I suppose he'd seen me practise several times before.

"I don't think so. On your Birthday I'll take you with me." I promised, admiring my teaching even though I couldn't let him practise those skills for real. "But I'll bring biscuits back if you behave. Besides, I think Peter will be back soon from his own round so you can hang out with him."

Just as the words left my lips there was a clattering noise from below our feet. We both stood still so we could listen. "Speaking of the devil ..." I muttered.

Thudding footsteps came up the stairs and me and Broody watched the door anxiously. The handle turned and Peter fell into the room on his knees. He was red with exhaustion and gasping for breath, despite laughing hysterically.
"Get up you it fool, " I ordered getting down from the ledge to drag him to his feet.

The boy was older than my brother, an innocent looking lad but he had the same skills as I. He had quick working fingers that seemed to have a life of their own, though he'd never been able to outdo me.
I'd taught him everything he knew and after two years of knowing him, he'd become family.
"What are you laughing about?"

His sparkling eyes met mine, ones a woman would certainly fall for in a couple of years. A charming lad in the eyes of a young woman, but just another burden for me.

"I got caught!" He exclaimed laughing as hysterically as before. I was stunned into as he lifted his ragged sleeve, on his wrist was a burn in the shape of a circle with a shield symbol in the middle - a thieves brand. "Stealin' from some bakers stall an' a woman saw me. You should-eh seen her face-- she" he was shortly interrupted by his excessive coughing. "Well, they branded me." he nodded toward his mark. "Dealers came to get me from the police but they couldn't run as fast as I could."

I took a long look at his marked wrist, with as much hot fury as the heated poker which burned him. With an open hand, I slapped him across his face without hesitation. "How did you get caught ?! I told you before about onlookers spotting you!"

Despite his now rosy cheek where I'd slapped him, Peter smirked with a short cough.
"This isn't funny!" I snapped, knowing how much harder it would be for him to steal with a thieves brand.

"Don't worry Nadia, I still managed to keep me' stolen coins. Sorry bout' the food though."

I ignored his lack of stolen food, instead worrying about his burn. "Well congrats, now you're branded! What if it gets infected? You'll be dead in a week!"

"Then go and get something for it !" Broody exclaimed from behind me. Peter's expression changed, fear shone through him momentarily but then it was gone. Once the fear had disappeared the normal cocky thirteen year old stood back in front of me, cocking his eyebrow.

"Broddy I was just -"

"It's not worth the risk !" I couldn't help but see myself in him, like a mirror reflecting my younger more innocent self. I huffed loudly and grabbed clothes to change into. I didn't argue because I knew deep down he was right.
Peter was a careless fool, but that didn't stop me caring about him.

"I hate you." I hissed quietly into Peter's ear as I strode past him, bundling my clothes in my arms. He out his arm out, stopping me from walking through the doorway.

"You can't hate me Nadia, or you wouldn't have helped me years ago would ya' have? " He said with a cheesy wink. With his words, I couldn't help but smile slightly alone with an eye roll.

I got changed in another room which had a mirror that was still attached to the wall.
The gas didn't work so we didn't have hot water or lights, just candles and a bathtub full of the water we didn't drink. Though the bathtub would get murky after a use of us washing so we had to empty it often.

The indoor toilet we used didn't work, so we'd have to walk to the outhouse that a family across the road owned. Sometimes in the night I'd have to take Broddy to it myself as I didn't trust anything in the dark.

I lit a candle, the yellow light giving the broken tiles an unearthly glow. I smoothed down my grey dress, assuring myself I looked like the average servant girl of my age.
I pulled on my shoes groaning at how tightly fitted they were with my toes squashed inside.

Quickly, I combed knots out of my black hair with an old brush, smiling as innocently as I could manage into the mirror. I stared, the slanted mirror not offering any false illusion as to who I really was.

I didn't look too shabby, not nearly shabby enough to draw any attention from any dealer.

With a sigh, I descended the stairs of the building, slipping through a small gap in the boarded up door. The streets were dusty, murky water splashing onto the hem of my dress when I didn't see a puddle between the uneven cobbles.

I walked cautiously but to most, I was invisible. As always, dealers eyed me but only their leader Arthur knew who I really was, they just thought I was a regular servant.

Arthur ran the village as mayor, though his main income was the homeless he sold as servants to the rich. When I was sixteen he flaunt me begging and made me take a job, serving in a rich man's house in the village. It didn't take me long to reject it as I found my boss to be too touchy for a man with a wife.

Arthur then sparked interest in catching me when I'd turned eighteen, knowing somebody my age would go for a great price in the black market. So if I got caught, my life was over for good...

Determination burned in my eyes as I past a café, the tasty smell of scones teasing my nose. Food like that was only for the rich so I pushed myself faster, stopping myself from begging as that was how I'd been caught once before.

The town square was just up ahead and there seemed to be commotion in the large crowd, a perfect opportunity to steal something. I smiled smugly to myself as I saw the busy stalls and streets on the Sunday market. As a thief, I knew exactly what I needed to do.

I began working, digging skilfully in the pockets of others and pulling wallets, purses and spare change. I grabbed the valuables then disposed of whatever I didn't need. I preferred to steal, then buy the food, it was more effort but tricked people into thinking I'd earned my own money.

Even if I did get a job, the salary for a servant was barely enough to pay for my own food, let alone Broddy and Peter. Maybe some day in the future girls like me will just get a man's job, instead of loafing off their money and baring their children.

As a thief I loafed off others anyway, but at least I always had my freedom.
But if caught, game over...unless you were Peter and could run like hell when you needed to. Years of experience had made me careful and precise. Never had I been caught in the pocket of another-

"I saw that."

I heard a feminine voice from behind me whisper. I'd just nudged a posh looking man, slipping my hand into his breast pocket before he noticed, saying sorry not so sincerely.
The pocket watch he had in there was a treasure rare to find.

I froze abruptly, clutching the watch tight in my hand. I saw who owned the voice. Alice.

"You scared me." I hissed at her. She was older than me, bigger too, but I wasn't bothered by her in the slightest. Alice laughed, her face innocent like one of a deer's, but I knew her better than to fall for her dazed look.

"Can see you don't waste...time." She childishly sniggered as she discreetly opened my closed palm to reveal the watch. She smiled at the treasure between my fingers. "Didn't expect to see you here, it's normally Peter's turn on Sunday."

"Well he got caught stealing from the bakery today. Gone and got himself branded."
Her eyes widened.
Definitely the eyes of a deers at night, I thought.

"And the dealers ?"

"He can run like a fox, the dealers won't be able to catch him anyway. Didn't escape the hot poker though. I came here to get some medicine to treat his burns, don't want him to end up like Nick." We both became silent at his mention. I regretted saying that, feeling suddenly insensitive.

"That pocket watch will do you well. Been watching you for ages Nadia, barelyseen you nick one thing. You have to be the best thief I know."

"Four years on the job."I mumbled, wanting to forget. She meant well by her compliment but it only reminded me of all the precious things I'd stolen from innocent people.

"Maybe you can teach me a couple of your tricks sometime. You know, like we used to."

"Of course I will Ali." I laughed and nudged her shoulder. We both could remember how much time we'd spent together when we lived in the mill which wasn't but two short years ago.

As we chatted, there was a yelling noise from across the street as people argued amongst themselves.
"Somethings going on today," Alice said shaking her head, her eyes full of suspicion. "Somebody mentioned the mayor having a couple outsiders in his home."

"Arthur?"I frowned, knowing he didn't like anybody but himself.

Before Alice could continue, she pushed past me with a concerned look, blending into the crowd without even a goodbye.

I followed her with my eyes and saw a dealer just a metre away, unmissable as he had a mark of his own on his neck, a circle with two daggers crossed inside it. Out of instinct, I walked into the opposite direction, knowing he hadn't seen me at all.

I continued my hunt but I caught hold of one interesting conversation. Two eccentric
women gossiped gleefully, batting their eyelashes at men from every angle. I rolled my eyes, knowing they were looking for their next target.

"Did you hear about the mayor and those savages?"

"Yes. They're threatening him apparently."

"But why?"

"There are lots of rumours. The baker told me their leader has his own village but he wants to become mayor of  Wayston village also."

"The mayor will never allow him to surely! You can't just take over like that." 

"He can just replace him apparently, if the mayor agrees. So much for democracy!"

"Well I haven't seen one of them yet, but lets hope they're handsome and filthy rich."

"You don't think these outsiders are-?"

"Of course not! If you believe that you're insane! It's a ridiculous lie to make us fear them."

I was intrigued by there conversation, excitement buzzing through me.
"Where are they from?"I asked them, tapping one of them on the shoulder.
She turned around with a smile but as she looked me up and down, resting her eyes on my clothes, her face grimaced.

"What?"She replied sharply.

"What do people think they are?" I said, holding back the urge to strangle the woman for looking at me in such disgust.

"Well they can't be anything worst you." The woman scoffed.

I raised my eyebrow, anger in my chest. My hand slipping into her leather handbag as her and her friend were too busy looking at my unwashed hair. I removed my hand.

"I'm sure they aren't." I blew her a kiss as I began to walk away. I held a wad of coins
in my hand and her silver bracelet that she had in the bottom of her handbag.
"Oh! And a man at the brothel at the end of the next street pays a pretty price for his whores if you're interested." I added with a wink.

Her mouth dropped open and before she could yell, I dashed into the crowd to blend in.
I shoved the coins in my pocket but grumbled as I saw the bracelet was broken at one of the links.
I'll just sell it to a pawn stall, I told myself.

Later that day I returned home. In my arms I held all four bags full of food, fresh water and medicine that I hauled all the way through the streets. I finally reached the old hotel building, looking over my shoulder as I climbed the two stone steps to the boarded up door. With a push, I slid my bags under the door then climbed through.

I'd stolen a quick glance at Arthur's house as I passed by earlier. It seemed to be as quiet as usual, the curtains still closed. But I still took a second to think about what the women had said.

Why would an outsider want anything to do with a poor village?

Their leader must have been insane...

****

Authors note -
Thanks for reading I hope the chapter wasn't as boring to read as it was to edit...
Next chapter is Louvel's narrative.

-Tasha