Chapter 1: Why?

I remember that day very clearly. How could I forget? It was the day my life changed forever. For the better or worse, I had no idea. It would forever stick in my mind, like a dagger being stabbed into my brain - it would simply be too painful to remove, so I would have to leave it there.

It was a chilly November afternoon, the marketplace was busy and over-crowded with people selling and buying all sorts of goods. I remember how my hands felt almost numb and I was clenching my teeth to stop them from chattering. I was hardly dressed for this sort of weather. The goose bumps were visible on my skin and thousands of shivers crawled up and down my spine. The fresh smell of food wafted around me, mixed within the freezing, nipping, cold wind that bit at my bare skin.

I was eyeing the bakery stall, ready to make my attack. I swallowed down hard, biting my lip.

I wasn’t a thief; I was simply trying to keep my family alive. I cared for them too much to let them starve to death. I figured anyone would do the same in my position. My family was literally all I had. I was doing this for them. I had to do this for them. They were my responsibility. I needed them.

I crept up to the stall, making sure my head was low to avoid the baker from seeing my face. My mouth felt dry, as my heart was thumping against my ribcage at an uneven pace. I was never good at this.

I reached out. The loaf was mere centimeters away from my fingertips. I was almost there. Maybe my family wouldn’t starve. Maybe we would live to see the light of tomorrow, and maybe we would go to bed tonight with our bellies at least half-full. Maybe things wouldn’t be so bad.

But all my hopes and optimistic thoughts were crushed all too soon; the small flicker of chance was extinguished before it could even be fully lit.

Two guards, dressed in the palace uniform came storming towards me, the crowds of people parting for them, like the Red Sea for Moses. I immediately retracted my hand, snapping it back to my side and quickly regaining my composure to avoid looking suspicious.

They were both tall, and intimidating with emotionless faces. They didn’t even make eye contact with me. My head felt frantic as I stared up at their broad frames. I couldn’t get into trouble. Not now. My family needed me. If I went to prison, my family wouldn’t be able to survive. My heart was racing so fast I thought it would burst out of my chest. They would have to scrape my remains from the streets’ concrete floor.

Their eyes were so stone cold. The temperature seemed to drop a few more degrees as they stared down at me. Looking at me and making me feel self-conscious, like they were disgusted at the sight.

After what seemed like forever, they finally stepped aside. An old, hunched over woman, emerged from behind them, her walking stick scraping against the hard, rough concrete beneath my feet. I watched her closely as she approached. Her hair was as white as the snow that fell on the peaks of mountains. Her face was wrinkled and saggy - as if someone had grabbed her cheeks and pulled them to see how far they would stretch.

The whole entire market place had gone deadly silent. Everybody had stopped what he or she was doing, just to watch as the events unfolded before their curious eyes. I had never experienced a silence quite like this. It was a loud type of silence that seemed to ring and rattle against my eardrums.

She stopped a few meters in front of me. Her eyes pierced right through me, slicing my being into half with her hard stare. I felt as if I was , like she could see everything, everything I was thinking, and everything I was feeling, all the blood that was rushing around my body. I felt as though she knew it all exactly as I was feeling it.

“It’s her.” She said pointing her old bony finger towards me. Her voice was firm, demanding, completely mismatched with her frail and weak appearance.

I frantically looked around for someone to help me, but no one stepped forward. What was going on? Why wouldn’t someone help me? I needed something. Anything. I couldn’t go to prison. I just couldn’t. Sweat began to form on my forehead. My whole entire body was heating up with dreaded anticipation, my blood running cold in my veins, the shivers intensifying throughout my body drastically. They were going to arrest me.

“She’s the one.” The old woman said coming closer to me, grabbing my chin in between her thumb and index finger. She moved my head side to side forcefully, as if she was examining me like a piece of meat, deciding if I was good enough to buy or not. It felt degrading. I was scared. So scared. My head felt dizzy with confusion and my stomach churned with nausea. She drew her face close to mine, squinting her beady little eyes at me, looking right through me like a piece of glass.

I found that my breathing was ragged, choppy, my chest tightening.

She suddenly released my chin from her bony grasp. Staring at me for a few moments, her expression softening briefly before she turned around and left, walking away from me.

 “Take her to the mansion in the country side. Find her family and take them there also. Put her into training immediately.” She instructed the guards, they nodded as she made her way past them with her walking stick.

Two white luxurious limos pulled up in front of where she was standing. With the assistance of another palace guard she got into one of the limos and it drove off down the main road of the small village, my eyes following it like a magnet as it disappeared around the corner.

“If you would like to follow us, Miss. You will be able to see your family later.” One of the guards said firmly, stepping forward. “If you object you and your family will face brutal consequences.” His voice was cold and merciless.

I could only nod. I felt as though if I had tried to speak, my words would only get stuck in my throat and leave me more breathless than I already was.

I could feel the towns’ eyes staring at me. I could hear their hushed, urgent whispering, trying