Aroha Whitmore's Arc

Chapter 1 of 2

Aroha Whitmore wore a red thread under her gray coat, and in Sunshine that was a crime. She had come to the market to find rebels. Instead she found silence. She wanted to topple the regime that had banned every color and outlawed every laugh. But the vendors kept their heads down. When she whispered against the ministers, they turned away. One old woman pressed a coin into Aroha's palm and hurried off before she could speak. The rule was simple. Wear only gray. Never sing. Never smile in the street. Enforcers watched from every corner in their black uniforms. Aroha had spent three days trying to gather people. Three days, and not one voice joined hers. Fear had sealed every mouth in the city. She tried once more near a fruit stall. "They cannot arrest all of us," she told a young father. He grabbed his child and left his apples behind. Aroha stood alone. Her plan had failed. No speech would break a fear this deep. Then a woman stepped out of the crowd and laughed. Loud. In broad daylight. She wore a scarf as red as blood and a hat cocked to one side. A lanky dog with long legs trotted beside her, its coat patched brown like spilled paint. Enforcers turned. The woman did not run. "You're wasting your breath, gray coat," she said. "Words won't move these people. Fear will." She grinned. "Captain Scarlett Reeves. I dock where I please and take what I want." Aroha stared. The pirate wore color openly, and no one stopped her. "How are you not arrested?" "Because I don't ask permission." Scarlett clicked her tongue, and the dog sat. "These sheep won't follow a whisper. They'll follow proof. Give them one person who breaks the rule and lives. Then watch." Enforcers pushed toward them. Aroha's heart pounded. She understood the offer now. Talk had failed for three days. Scarlett was daring her to act. Aroha ripped open her gray coat. The red thread showed bright against the dull street. She raised her arm high so everyone could see. "Look!" she shouted. "Color! And I'm still standing!" The market froze. An enforcer seized her wrist. Aroha did not lower her arm. She smiled straight into his face, wide and unafraid, the first open smile that street had seen in years. A vendor gasped. Then the old woman with the coin pulled a strip of blue cloth from her sleeve and held it up. A boy tore off his gray cap. One by one, small colors flashed across the crowd like sparks. The enforcers shouted for order. Too many hands now, too many colors. Scarlett laughed again and hauled Aroha free of the enforcer's grip. "Now you've done it," the pirate said. "They'll be hunting you by nightfall." Aroha looked at the flickering colors and the frightened, hopeful faces. The silence had broken. But the whole regime had just marked her name.