Fresh out of prison, Zafira is ready to begin working for the good guys … but only until she can safely return to a life of thievery.
Aerith City, 5 Years Old
Despite it being a frigid day, Zafira sat huddled on the ground, her back pressed against the city wall, a threadbare blanket wrapped tightly around her. For Zafira, this was normal. Ever since she could remember, Zafira had spent her days in filth and squalor. With one shivering hand, she clutched her last burnt crust of bread. With her other, she hopelessly checked the shapeless wooden bowl she used to beg with. Of course, it was empty. It had been empty five minutes ago when she had checked it, and every five minutes before then for the entire day.
Her sister Esme sat huddled beside her, with a marginally better blanket around her and a marginally larger crust of burnt bread in their hands. The two sat in silence, as they had for the whole day. Talking took too much energy, and in Aerith City winters, begging was too deadly an occupation to waste any energy. Especially if you were five years old. But at least next to the wall they didn't have to worry about the harsh winds making their lives even more miserable. It was one of the few areas where they could be without the guards beating them for being eyesores. Zafira got enough beatings from Esme that she didn't need any from people who could actually put some force behind their strikes.
The stillness was broken as a dark shape slunk out of an alleyway towards the two girls. It was ratty and skeletal, just like them. Zafira wasn't sure if thought that they were prey or shelter: wild Pokemon usually didn't bother them. Still, she clutched her bit of bread, knowing that the Pokemon would be hungry.
It stopped just short of the two of them, too far for Esme to kick, but too close for it to just be watching. It lowered its nose to the ground and sniffed, looking between the two of them. It seemed to sense that Zafira was the less hostile of the two, and it tepidly walked up to her.
Zafira shrunk back, clutching her bread tightly to her chest, but the Pokemon ignored the gesture. Instead, it clambered up into her lap and curled into a ball on top of the blanket, obviously seeking something warmer than the freezing cobblestones.
Just kick it away and it'll leave Esme said dismissively, but she clearly didn't care enough to do the job herself. Whatever mess her sister got into was her own business.
Instead of kicking the Pokemon away, Zafira instead began to pet the small Pokemon. But when it nearly bolted, she quickly offered it half of her bread as a bribe to stay a little while longer. The Pokemon was bigger than the Skitty she'd seen the noble girls play with, and much darker. As she tried to work through the knots in its fur, the grime of life in alleyways began to rub off, and Zafira saw hints of a beautiful black fur hiding beneath the dirty exterior. A small smile broke through her lips as it nibbled on the bread, clearly willing to accept the bribe - and the warmth of a lap - to stick around for a little while longer.
Zafira, Esme hissed through shivering teeth. I said kick it away. We can't even feed ourselves, let alone a Pokemon. What would we do with it? Stop getting weird ideas, and get rid of it.
I think I'll call him Garnet, Zafira said, totally ignoring her sister. Esme considered hitting Zafira, but stopped short. This was the first time she'd seen her sister happy. So she stayed silent, resolutely thinking that she would not be giving up her share of the food for the creature. So she sunk once more into silence while Zafira cooed over the ratty thing.
Sitting totally forgotten on the cobblestones, the wooden bowl gave a single, hopeful twitch. Nobody had touched it.
Aerith City Rooftop, 15 Years Old
Like usual, the weather in Aerith was cold, but not nearly as frigid as it could get during the winter months. Zafira, now ten years older and clad in the clothing that any commoner street child would have, sat on the slanted roof of one of the city's many houses. The past decade had changed her. No longer skeletal, shoes on her feet, and a sword strapped to her thigh, she couldn't look further from what she had all those years ago. Her muscles were toned from years of clambering up and down buildings, although she rarely climbed with her hands anymore.
She was spinning three coins in the air over her open palm, weaving them between each other without even thinking about it while she looked at the scene below. Her Telekinesis had already become second nature to her, and it, along with her decision to become a trainer, had been the keys to her success.
The scene below was a common one. A merchant, one who had often scorned them when they were beggars, had set up shop almost directly underneath her position. He was having an unfortunate problem in that the stretched fabric roof of his wares table kept collapsing, threatening to break the whole thing and damage his merchandise: finely baked breads and pastries. Every time he fixed the problem, Zafira would simply smile from her perch and yank one of the supporting poles out from underneath the tarp. Not with her hands of course; she hadn't stolen with her hands for a while now. No, instead she did it with her mind, yanking telekinetically on the wooden beams.
All the while Opal, the newest addition to her team, clambered down the side of the building and hung from an awning, chattering gleefully at the flustered and frustrated merchant. Zafira was feeling much the same way, and pushed the distraction further than was entirely necessary. But this man had hit her several times, and she took a fierce pleasure at the pain she was causing him. With a graceful flip, Opal landed on the cart and snatched a few cakes with its tail, stuffing one of the pastries eagerly into her mouth. She scurried back up the building with all the agility of the monkey she was.
As Opal leaped over the gutter, she threw the cakes into the air gleefully. Laughing, Zafira caught them in the air, where they hung in midair. Opal too was caught, and she flailed her arms, trying to get her balance in the air. Garnet, lying next to Zafira, simply snorted and continued to preen her fur, which now shone with a gorgeous red-black sheen. Zafira floated one of the cakes into her mouth and bit into it, savoring the jellied center and sugary coating. Only a few years ago a treat this sweet would have had her vomiting, but now she could properly enjoy the finer things in life, and she liked it that way. As she chewed, she looked out over the city with some sadness. Her time here was about to come to an end.
Zafira's thoughts were broken when she heard footsteps on the roof behind her. Immediately she dropped Opal and the cakes and swiveled around in a crouch. Instinctively her sword, stolen from a squire while he was sleeping, slid out of its scabbard and hovered menacingly in front of her. Zafira was still a street girl through and through, and her ability to sense danger was second to none.
But it was just Esme, who was walking across the roof, still older than her, and still gorgeous. She carried a bottle of dusty wine in her left hand. She must have finally got the winemaster to think about where he hid the spare key to his cellars: it was a project she'd been working on for a little over a month, and Zafira knew her sister enjoyed the challenge. But Esme when Esme spoke, she didn't mention the wine. Instead, she turned her attention to something else.
When are you leaving? she asked.
If this had been the first time Esme had read her mind, Zafira would have been surprised that her sister had known her plans to leave the city. But Esme was an even more talented Telepath than she was a Telekinetic, so Zafira took the comment in stride. Tomorrow, she said. I can't stay around here if I want to actually start stealing. I'm tired of just taking the things I need to survive. But people know who we are here. I need a fresh start, a new city to work.
Zafira didn't ask if Esme would join her. She knew the girl would say no, and Zafira honestly didn't want her sister to come along. It was time fro her to figure out life on her own. And so the two sisters spent the night in silence looking out over the city, Garnet, Opal, and Esme's Elekid enjoying the night. While the two girls didn't do much other than pass the bottle back and forth, enjoying each other's company for the last time.
Manor House of a Minor Lord, Eternia Town, 18 Years Old
So long suckers! Zafira cried as she dashed through the hallways of the manor house, pursued by two guards. Garnet dashed next to her, cackling merrily to himself as his trainer toppled suits of armor to block the hallway behind her. It helped that she could do this even while running with a valuable second century vase in her hands, a loaf of bread sticking out the top.
Muk! the guardsmaster cried when he saw the toppled armor blocking their way. Clear this mess up. You two, go around through the guest rooms. She can't escape if we keep her on the second floor.
At this, Zafira simply chuckled. Instead of going for the stairway, she made a beeline for the doors to the balcony that looked over the rose garden. She unlatched them and threw them open with her mind while she was still meters away, and Garnet hopped onto her back, claws digging into clothes that made her look like a minor lordling. She didn't slow down even when she came to the railing, instead hopping onto a stone gargoyle, smiling like a fool as she took in the view.
And then she jumped.
For a second, Zafira simply drank in the feeling of falling freely through the air. As she rocketed towards the ground, she drank in the thrill of a successful job. It was moments like this that made life on the run worth it. Blood coursing through her veins, she pushed against the ground with all her might, slowing her descent and landing smoothly. She quickly dashed down one of the garden paths, losing herself in the maze of hedges. In the distance, she could hear the clanking of boots as guards from the lower level pursued her down stone paths.
Of course, breaking in was the easy part. It was always harder to get out than in, but Zafira's strategy hadn't failed her yet. As the sounds of guards got closer and closer, she and Garnet tucked themselves into one of the small alcoves. Zafira got comfortable, pulled out a loaf of bread, still warm from the manor's kitchens, and ripped a chunk off.
Now Garnet, she said, and the Zorua chirped happily. Around their bodies sprouted a rose bush nearly identical to the ones around them. Of course, it wasn't a real rose bush, but merely an illusion conjured by the Pokemon she'd fed all those years ago. Zafira had food, and she could simply wait out the search of the grounds that would invariably take place. They'd conclude she'd escaped - after all, who would stick around at the scene of a crime - and give her an opening to slip out much more easily.
About an hour later two guards, combing the maze, walked by her. They seemed particularly gossipy, as not much of interest ever happened in a small country manor like this.
- a magician. Nobody without magic could take that fall and still be able to run away.
I heard the lord is going to call the witch hunters. There's no way she's a licensed magician. They'll catch her surely enough. They never fail those witch hunters. Scary people them. The other guard grunted in agreement, and the two continued walking, oblivious to their prey hidden right next to them.
Zafira simply grinned at the news. She knew her powers couldn't remain hidden forever, and she relished the challenge of escaping the witch hunters. It had been a bit too easy for her recently. Time for a real challenge.
Game on, she said.
Thorrin City Prison, 21 Years Old
For the first time since her years as a beggar, Zafira found herself once more spending her days in filth and squalor. Except instead of haunting alleyways and digging crusts of bread from heaps of trash, she sat solitary in a cell. After years of working as a professional thief, the real world had finally caught up to her. While working a job in Thorrin City, she'd been sold out by someone she thought was an alleyway and had been ambushed by the witch hunters, who had known exactly what city she'd been headed to next. Garnet had copied her appearance and the two split up, forcing the witch hunter and his apprentice to split up as well. Zafira's sword skills had taken down the apprentice, but the fight took long enough that his master caught up, and she was no match for a full witch hunter.
She'd grown careless and lazy, and now she was stuck in a cell, day in and day out. Without any windows, it was hard to figure out exactly how long she'd been in here, but it had been at least a few months. She hadn't had a conversation with another human other than the guards the whole time, and they barely fed her. That old feeling of hunger was clawing its way once more into her stomach. But that wasn't what worried her. She could handle loneliness, and she could handle hunger. That was how she grew up.
But she was scared of the White Tower.
She'd heard her guards talking about how they were transferring her there soon. She knew it was coming. When you nearly kill a witch hunter, even an apprentice one, they won't let you off with a simple brand. But she'd heard too many rumors and stories about the horrors of that place for mages to not feel terrified every time someone came to her cell. Each time could be the nail in her proverbial coffin, and that uncertainty was worming its way into her brain more than any physical torture they could inflict on her.
She tried once more to move the keys hanging on the wall outside her cell. She mustered all her mental power, enough to blow back a Machamp in normal circumstances, but the keys refused to even twitch. Zafira sighted, defeated. She knew that nothing would happen. Ever since the witch hunter had put her in these manacles she'd been unable to use her powers. She figured they'd probably been forged out of Dark Plates to seal her powers.
Just as she was sinking back to the floor, the door to her cell creaked open. Zafira instinctively rose to a crouch, her hands uncomfortably linked to the floor with a chain. In the doorway stood the person that scared her more than anything in the world. In his black robes and intimidating mask, the Witchunter was immediatey recognizable, even in the poor light of the cell. Zafira's breathing shallowed as she prepared for the news that she'd been dreading.
Hello Zafira. How about we have a little talk about your future?
The next day, Zafira found herself in a wagon on the way to the poor town that had been leveled. In exchange for amnesty for her crimes, she was becoming a dog of the Kingdom to help clean up the mess and capture the criminals. Apparently the kingdom being short on troops meant that there were better uses for a thief like her than jail. Of course, they'd be watching her like a Noctowl watched a Rattata, but that was ok. She'd figure out a way to get out of this mess. And this time, Zafira had no intention of getting captured. Zafira popped a piece of food provided to her for the journey into her mouth. While she chewed on the relatively plain bread, a grin spread over her face.
Game on, she said.
Zafira and her sister Esme were beggers for years in Aerith City from the time they were born. It was miserable, oftentimes cold and starving, but they persevered. Over time however, Zafira befriended Garnet the Zorua and Opal the Aipom. With Pokemon at their belt and psychic powers in their pockets, the two sisters slowly stopped begging and began to live their lives as pickpockets and thieves.
Eventually however, Zafira felt the need to leave Aerith City and her abusive sister. So she set out at the age of 15, looking for greener pastures. With her talents and telekinetic swordsmanship, she made a killing. However, her exploits began to attract the attention of the Witchunters, who heard rumors of a thief using Psychic powers to line her own pockets. And so Zafira never really settled down, instead moving from place to place to avoid capture.
They eventually caught up to her the city of Thorrin. After making a break for it and cutting down an apprentice witchhunter, she was captured and thrown into jail. They were about to transfer her to the White Tower when the attack on Maltese Cross. She's on release as a sort of 'community service', with the understanding that she won't go to jail if she serves faithfully until they're done with her. They'll be watching to make sure she doesn't cross the lines of legality, but she was used to shaking a tail.
Esme: Zafira's older sister, and a powerful Telepath. Esme loves Zafira, even if she had cruel ways of showing it. They haven't seen each other since Zafira left Aerith 6 years ago.
Robijn: While Zafira has never met him, Robijn is the older brother of her and Esme. He left Aeris City while Zafira was a baby. He's a powerful Warper, just as talented in his Psionic art form as Zafira and Esme are in theirs. Neither Esme nor Zafira know about his powers though, or what he's been up to the past twenty years.
The Witchhunter: Zafira doesn't know his true name, nor where he ranks in the organization, but she's terrified of this man. He fights with weighted nets capable of keeping even ghosts and teleporters from escaping.
The Witchhunter's Apprentice: If Zafira were a murderer, this man would be dead. As is, he spent a few days in the care of a Blissey and has a very wounded ego.
Theo Aleato: A thief that Zafira has worked with in the past. No magic, but he's a talented thief with a Litwick capable of creating very deadly distractions. He doesn't share Zafira's aversion to killing however, which is why they split up (albeit on good terms). There might have been a small crush on Zafira's part, but it never went anywhere. He's taken the nickname 'Shadowdancer' and leaves a Murkrow feather at the scene of each heist.
While in locales in her Travel Archive, Zafira gains the Keen Eye Ability and gets a +2 bonus to notice the environment.
