As the raven flew through the dark, stormy night its attention was drawn to a solitary shadow of a figure on top of a building. It was crouched down and looking out onto the city, just staring. When the raven landed next to the figure, it looked up and frowned, as if it… no… he had just been brought back to reality. It was a boy of about sixteen years of age who had long, dark hair drawn back into a pony tail and bright, blue eyes. He was wearing all black clothing: black pants, black shirt, black boots… all covered by a large, black trench coat. The boy frowned deeper and waved a hand at the bird. Spooked, it took off and, already forgetting the boy on the roof, it began its nightly search for food.
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Stupid bird, Gink thought as the raven flew away. His gaze followed it for a while as it circled and rose on gusts of wind, and then returned to the city below him. Arafta… the mage city.
Well, Gink mused, it’s called that but in fact the only mages are King Andro and his council. Everyone else lived in poverty and was ruled with an iron fist by Andro and his powerful magic. No one knew where his magic came from or where the magic of the council came from, but they all knew that if they put a toe out of line in the sight of the mages, they would be killed.
That was why the Underground was born. It was a place ruled by crime lords and it gave the illusion of freedom, since everyone knew that Andro only ignored it. Still, it was better than nothing. The Underground gave thieves like Gink a little extra money when they did jobs for the various crime lords, who always had something small for them to do. However, thieves tried not to be in debt to the crime lords. Gink hadn’t succeeded.
Flix on Youga, he thought. Of all of the crime lords to become in debt to it had to be him. He’s the meanest, cruelest, and fattest of all of the crime lords. He has over a thousand thugs at his beck and call and he owns over a third of the Underground. I just had to have been rescued from the Mage’s Police by one of his thugs.
That was another thing… the Mage’s Police. The highly-trained soldiers completely loyal to the Mage-King and the only ones allowed to have weapons in the entire realm. Not that that stopped the crime lords, who paid huge bribes to the Mage-King, or the thieves, who learned at a young age how to keep weapons hidden. However, anyone found with one, who had not paid a bribe, was immediately killed by the most horrible way possible.
Being shot with a kayka.
Now “kayka” doesn’t sound like a very threatening word, but the weapon with that name is. What a kayka does is that it turns you inside-out, and being turned inside-out doesn’t kill you immediately. Oh no. It usually takes three hours for the victim to die, unless someone slays them out of mercy. Gink had seen both of his parents shot with a kayka and had never forgotten their muffled screams of pure agony as their organs began to fall apart, their blood vessels bursting in the open air, their bones cracking and breaking . It had taken him years to get rid of the nightmares. And Gink himself had been about to be shot when one of Youga’s thugs saved him.
He had carelessly left the tip of one of his daggers show through the top of his boot and a policeman had seen it. In seconds, he had been tackled and thrown against a wall, kayka pointed at his head. Then, the thug, Nigo was his name, had recognized him and punched the policeman in the back of the head so that his head hit the wall with a resounding crack. Nigo then picked up Gink and spirited him away to Lord Youga, who had instantly requested a favor.
Not that I had any choice, Gink thought wryly.
If he refused he would be sent to Youga’s sapphire mines to repay his debt and risk almost certain death. At least with a favor he had a chance of surviving.
Youga had told Gink that he had to steal an important artifact from the palace. This artifact bore a resemblance to a silver armband and had runes engraved into it. So that was what he was doing now, looking over the decrepit city to the palace and judging the best place to enter. However, this was not easy considering that the palace was originally a fortress and still had a full regiment of soldiers patrolling its walls. After thinking about it for a few minutes, he finally decided that a fake role, such as a farmer, perhaps would be his best bet.
Actually, he realized with a start, I should go as a traveling peddler. No one is allowed to check them or their wares until they reach the king himself. I could just make an excuse and be off in a flash! To leave I’ll just have to bring a different set of clothing, so that the guards won’t recognize me and attempt to bring me in front of the king. No one cares who leaves the palace, just who enters.
With that he left to make his preparations, not noticing the raven circling above him and cawing repeatedly. For the raven is the bird of destiny and it could feel a great future in store for this boy.
