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Aa

Orange Sea

All Rights Reserved ©

Summary

Kayla is an only child that struggles to fight the people oppressing her kind, only to find out she is part of the oppressors.

Status
6yrs ago
Chapters
19
Rating
5.0 (2 reviews)
Age Rating
16+

Chapter 1


“Get back here you little bastard,” He huffed already out of breath as he tried to reach for my shirt, barely grazing the hem of my long sleeve. I quickly pull away and start my sprint chuckling as he stumbled forward, smacking a few items off of his cart, nearly face planting into a bunch of spices. He continued after me bumping into other merchants and running into corners on sharp turns and ever stumbling down a few cobbled steps, he finally fell and took someone with him, poor lady didn’t even see him coming. I make a turn moving west and the evening sun batted at my eyes blinding me temporarily, nearly knocking me into a wall, my clouded breath didn’t help my sight issue anymore then the sun. I quickened my pace through the small streets of the bazaars turning south, my vision coming back to me, my feet splashing in the small divots of water on the street that the snow provided from its premature defrosting from the sun and consistently being stepped on.

I finally got to the main market street of the city swarmed with most of its residents, I started to sprint down the tattered road. Dodging cattle, merchants haggling over the price of some fruit, the daughters of those merchants giggling at all the working-class men, street performers breathing fire some swallowed knives, even a small vendor of pets selling lizards and exotic birds and fish, and all other sorts of people. I ended up bumping into an older woman a scar over her left cheek permanently turning her face into a smirk, she had a dead lifeless expression plastered to her face as if she was a smug doll, like she wasn’t even fully in control of her movements or anything about her. She fell to her side spilling spice everywhere staining my clothes green and red as well as hers, making me and herself a bright target, “I’m sorry miss!” I shoved a few gold shillings into her open hand nearly spilling the rest to the floor and continued to run, her lifeless expression seemed to gain some life, with a small chuckle to herself the smirk turned to a radiant smile. Well at least from the three second opportunity I took to look at her, hearing the heavy pants and foot fall of the old man I decided not to stick around for too long. My feet were feeling heavy but the rest of me felt light zipping in and out of allies and open streets. I started to run under familiar bridges no longer lit by fancy streetlights but hanging lights with some blown bulbs covered by a mix of cheap metal and fabric, some fabric singed form the bulbs catching fire casting a dull brown glow onto the streets. Here you won’t find anyone in refined silks or chiffon, or giggling rich daughters, or street performers, here you find my people, the poor people the unwanted.

I slowed my pace once bridge Meara, my favorite bridge, was in view, it was rusty and the stones used to form the railing were falling off the bridge into the canal and riddled with moss and algae. It was the only bridge that connected the city to the small residential sector. I slowed my breathing and listened to see if the old man was coming for me, counting my breathing until I got to five. I slid under one of the metal rusty supports placing my hands behind my head. Once I was sure that he wasn’t coming I unwrapped my hair and face and degloved my hands they were stained red from the spice. My forehead was drenched in sweat and I felt the heat roll off my body in waves, I picked up some snow from the slight bend in the street and tossed it onto my face cooling me down almost instantly. I wiped my face from the cold moisture and walked along the stone supports of the bridge knocking at waist height to find one of my big secrets. Once I heard the hollow thuds of the grotto behind the stones, I pulled at the area waiting for a stone to loosen from its fabulous placement. A few minutes later I nearly fell back into the canal from the stone giving way my head nearly off the ledge, I quickly picked myself back up and dropped to one knee before the cavern revealing my treasure trove of all my stolen goods and prized possessions, as well as other things like Id’s and other credentials. If I wanted to be, I could be a nineteen-year-old teacher in the big city, that got lost with her class on a field trip, or a hairdresser that got turned around in this small town on her way to the capital. The joys of being a thief.

I pulled out my bag full of clothes and miscellaneous items, beyond that was my stash of tradable coins. I added more shillings, and items to the collections, once I threw everything into its proper place, including the new wallets and purses, I crammed the bag back into its hiding spot and wedged the stones back into the gaping hole. I stepped back to admire my handy work nodding, convinced that it was still concealed.

I stepped up to the canal, my feet halfway off the ledge, balancing my weight perfectly on the heels of my feet and I flopped back on back on the cooling pavement my hair splayed all over the floor. Feeling the sun creep across my face drying my damp hair. As my feet swung above the water, I felt the warmth from the sun slowly become nonexistent from it setting and finally it was nothing but the purple-pink evening sky, small stars dotting the scenic moment.

“Kayla what the hell’re you doing here, and why are your clothes stained,” just great, my soul cringed when I heard the prick call me. I quickly shot up to a half squat half sit like my body didn’t know whether to stand up or keep my peaceful place by the canal , “Hey Daniel, I was just going for a walk and a lady spilled some stuff on me plus I found this nice spo-,” he cut me off before I even finished my sentence. His face was enough to make children cry, his very dark scruffy beard, his brown almost black beady eyes practically protruding from his skull, and his thin fraying hair that you can see if scalp through. “I don’t care get home now!” He bellowed down the whole canal people popping their heads out of broken shutters, windows, and a few out of some broken doorways.


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