The Black And White King

How is it possible for somebody to steal colour? Emerald pondered this as she prowled through the large grounds of Bartholomew Marth – politician and parasite - taking in the dark greens and earthy browns of nature. She hadn't seen colour like this since she was a child. She looked back at the red brick wall she had scaled, and noticed the greyness at the other side. That was where she came from. The eternal grey that Marth had created by taking colour for himself. He fed off the hopes of other people, charging them money to look at the beautiful colours that he had surrounded himself with.
The house was magnificent, walls of gold, and vases outside with exquisite red patterns covering them. The windows were sky blue, and the door was a deep red. However, the bottom floor windows and doors were much too obvious. No doubt, Marth's elite guard - The Chameleons - were hidden somewhere. If you could make anything any colour that you happened to want, it becomes child's play to blend in with the background.
Emerald ran through the foliage, enjoying the cool night air and the colour around her. Wind rustled the leaves, creating a relaxing sound. Suddenly, a red brick wall leaped out at her, which she ran up without hesitation. Then, keeping low, she ran along the wall towards the only building in the country with colour.
She reached a drainpipe which scaled the wall. It was fixed in securely, as if asking people to climb it. Swiftly and silently, she nimbly scaled the wall, and turned her head to see a balcony, covered in green vines. She leapt. There was a short, surreal moment in which the world around Emerald went completely silent, and the surroundings went still, as if holding its breath. Her grey hand neared the ledge. It latched on. The world released its breath. She pulled herself over, and breathed out. Her next task was to find Marth's room.

She stepped lightly through the dark corridors. There was not a sound as she made her brisk journey through Bartholomew's mansion. On previous scouting missions, she had spotted his bedroom. It was on the top floor. It was flooded with golden light almost every night, and Bartholomew would appear, pink skinned and blonde haired. He would watch the night sky, then turn out his light, and presumably, go to bed.

She reached a large, lavish door. Gold patterns ran up the side of it. She prayed that Bartholomew used oil, and slowly turned the handle.
She pushed lightly on the heavy door.
It opened slowly, without a sound.
She crept in, and headed towards Bartholomew's desk. Sat atop it was a large tome. Looking for any clues she could find, she leafed through it, and finally stopped on a page near the end. Colour was the title of the page. Skimming through, she learned how it was done. She was to hold a small Orb in her hand, and have the colour she wanted in her sights. She would then have to speak the colour she wanted, and indicate something to store the colour in. Then, theoretically speaking, the colour would be hers.
Emerald had nothing to lose.
She found the Orb inside the desk. Picking the lock was easy. Holding it in her hand, she noticed a jewellery box. She opened it, and found a ring with a large emerald atop it. How fitting.
“Green.” Whispered Emerald. She then pointed to her eyes.