The Prince, the Thief & the Artifact

Chapter 1: The Thief

Summer was a thief with morals.

She lived by two codes.

One: She stole only what she needed, when she needed it.

Two: She stole only from those who could afford it.

The market place was crowded the morning Summer ventured into town. The merchants had set their stalls at the break of dawn.

Nestled in the foot of a mountain, the town was little more than a village. It was as much a part of the woods surrounding it as the trees with which it was built.

Summer stood in the shadow of one of the houses along the market street and scanned the shoppers. She looked like a boy fresh out of childhood in a big patched cloak and tattered leather shoes she hadn't outgrew since the age of fifteen, eight years ago.

Her first victim of the day caught her eyes after a few moments. She liked to think of them as unsuspecting donors: By ridding them of any excess food or money, she helped them give back to the community.

The man she set her sights on was more gut than anything else. She recognized him as one of the people who lived in the better parts of town, where houses were cleaner and bigger, as were people.

The nameless town in which Summer grew up was an isolated part of the Springwood Kingdom. Surrounded by mountains and difficult to access, they only got a handful of visitors over the course of her life there. Most of those visitors were the same merchants who brought goods from elsewhere.

Summer had never gone past the mountains. She occasionally climbed the mountainous woods, but never ventured further. Her entire life, which wasn't much, was here.

Boyd, her mentor and the man who'd raised her whenever he was in town, had once said that the rest of the kingdom was as different from this place as night was from day. He'd said that out there, poor people didn't starve to death, that orphans lived with dignity and that widows didn't have to earn a living on their backs to feed their young. Out there, everyone was taken care of. Summer couldn't imagine such a place.

She watched a half starved servant trail behind her chosen target, carrying bags already filled to the brim with a variety of fresh vegetables and fruits from the farmers' stalls, cookies and bread from the only baker in town, and more items that made Summer's stomach growl.

Just as she was taught, she kept to the shadows, blending into the background. People very rarely noticed her when she didn't want to be noticed.

Light on her feet, she followed the man, noting every relevant detail about him, like where he kept his coin bag. A few minutes later, the perfect opportunity to rid him of some of his superfluous riches presented itself.

He pushed his way to the front of a crowded stall that sold friandise brought in from the north. Summer didn't let herself hesitate. "Do it," she whispered under her breath. "Just do it."

Pushing past the mix of thrill and fear knotting her guts, she joined the mass around the sweets' stall, brushed against her target unnoticed and emerged a few seconds later with a coin bag.

Mouthwatering scents and sights assaulted her senses as she drifted away, the constant noise of haggling shoppers and stubborn merchants a familiar sound. A dog barked in the distance. A man screamed for a thief.

Summer strolled along. She had to be in the orphanage before the headmaster got back from the market, for he wouldn't let her in.

And if there wasn't someone she cared about there, she wouldn't even set her eyes on the building where she grew up to the age of nine. She didn't have fond memories there. Maybe a few. But her reasons for going on a weekly basis had nothing to do with reminiscing.