When I wake up, I'm in a dark room. The only light is dim, coming from the window ten feet above. It's night out, and the moon shines pale silver. Even though the sun has set, I can hear the constant murmur of the never-ending bustle in this wonderful city I call home. Or, I used to. Now, I'm not sure anymore. Both my parents are dead, my sister sold as a slave, and me, locked up in a dungeon. 669Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡtNKLcgyWAY
I don't know why they didn't sell me as a slave as well. Or murdered me, just as well. Not that I specifically wanted to be murdered, but my head is spinning with so many questions it makes me dizzy. Why am I so important that the king burned down my home, killed my family, and threw me in this hole? What have I ever done669Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKiFlYp4o6R
Admittedly, I am a thief. I know my way around the streets, know my way to the houses of the more fortunate, know exactly where to hide my rightfully stolen merchandise so no one will notice. I have perfected the art of pick-pocketing. I could pass a man in the street, empty his pockets, and he wouldn't notice until I was long gone. I had once even stolen a man's ring right off his finger. I NEVER steal from the poor, because I know they needed the food, or coins, or sometimes an occasional piece of jewelry, just as much as I do, maybe more. 669Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡXkSJPOshcC
But all this for thievery. Even though the king isn't exactly a forgiving person, this seems a little extreme, even for him. 669Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ5U6CgYg9Jt
Suddenly I hear voices, outside my cell and I jump to attention. I'm alert, and ready for anything, ready for anyone to come through that door, even if it's the king himself.669Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡTBEthUYKAC
But the person who enters the cell is probably the only person who I'm NOT ready for. It's Elric, the castle scribe and magician. The very man who wielded the torch that set fire to my home.
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