Kimba waited in the dark alley for his prey to walk by unaware. The handle from the rusty knife he had risked his life to steal from the market earlier that evening was damp with sweat. Not even a day had passed since Kimbas destruction of a third of the Cygnus. He had woken up that morning feeling very odd, but had learned to like this new feeling. It was powerful. His mind was thinking quick, and his movements quicker. He felt more like an animal than a human.
It was time for him to set phase two in effect. The remaining members of Cygnus would hold a funeral for their fallen, and it was the only time Kimba would be able to get his quilt back. But first he needed some information.
Footsteps sounded on the dry earth outside of the alleyway. Kimba had followed a member that the Cygnus had sent to confirm the death of the boys who had been in the building, following only the sounds of his footsteps so that he wouldn’t be caught. This is the last spot that he heard the steps coming from so the gang member had to be around here somewhere.
Kimba had checked all the doors and passages the alleyway held, but the member was nowhere to be seen. Kimba had been there for the longer half of an hour before he heard a sound come from the thick darkness deeper in the alley. It sounded metallic, but it was very subtle and seemed to be coming from the end of the alleyway.
Kimba held still until something broke the moment of silence. He heard quiet footsteps emerging from the darkness, getting closer. Kimba felt excitement and impatience come over him. He wanted this. The footsteps were almost to him, nearing the large indent in the wall Kimba was hiding in.
His victim came into view. It was a boy much older than Kimba, probably sixteen. This wasn’t who he had followed from the burned building, and Kimba knew that he had found their hiding place. The boy walked toward the street, unaware of Kimba.
Kimba darted out behind the boy with his rusty knife and swung low. The boy screamed and instantly fell as he felt one of the hamstrings supporting him get sliced. He hit the ground hard. Kimba rolled him over onto his back, a wide grin on his pale face. He put one hand over the boys screaming mouth, and the other put the knife to his neck.
“Shh shh,” Kimba whispered with a hint of playfulness, “I need some information and you’re going to give it to me.” Tears were pouring from the members wide eyes, frantically nodding into Kimbas hand. Kimba was disappointed there was no resistance.
“I only need to know one thing.” He said, inching closer to the older boys face so that he would recognize him, “That quilt you and your friends burned in front of me, where is it?” He sliced a small layer of the boys neck as he said this, a small warning if he was thinking of calling for help. The boy breathed heavily into his hand. Kimba was disgusted by how much saliva the young man was producing, and eased his hand off slowly to let him speak. The boy hesitated before talking.
“Alamak keeps it in his chambers.” He said, his voice weak and broken.
“Who the hell is that?”
“Our leader, the eldest of us.”
“Where are his chambers?” Kimba asked. The boy took too long to reply, and made no move to do so. Kimba rolled him over, put the knife to his elbows hamstring, and used his other hand to push the boys face into the dried mud. He brought his mouth to the boys ear.
“Listen to me,” Kimba whispered, his voice ominous, “There are things in this world that could be considered worth the pain you are about to go through if you don’t answer me. Loyalty is not one of those things.” Kimba moved his hand back onto his captives mouth.
“I’m going to count with your remaining working limbs. I would appreciate it if you could answer me before I am done.” His knife broke into the gang members skin and sliced deep across his hamstring. The boy howled with pain.
“One.” Kimba said in a singsong voice. The boy screamed into Kimbas hand, soaking it in thick saliva. He screamed until his breath left him. Kimba slowly moved to the last leg.
“Take a deep breath.” The boy squirmed his resignation as the words left Kimbas mouth. Kimba turned the boys head almost to the point of breaking and made his captive look into his eyes. They screamed anger.
“Last chance.” He said in a calm tone, removing his hand. The boy closed his eyes and opened his mouth.
“I dont know.” Kimba almost couldn’t hear the poor boy, his voice was soft and scared. His eyes held a dead stare into the sky behind Kimba.
“Wrong answer.” Kimba watched the boys mouth gape as the knife plunged into his back, the hilt making contact. Kimba felt the warm liquid flow onto his knuckles. The boys eyes moved back to Kimbas in astonishment before going beyond the point of comprehension. Kimba pulled the blade out and cleaned it on a part of his victims untainted shirt. He knew all he needed to anyway.
-
Kimba watched as the last Cygnus member turned the corner. The funeral for their now seven fallen was being held down the street., and they had a lot of theories as to who had killed their friend right outside their front door, but none of them landed on Kimba.
He rushed over to the corner of the alleyway, the dry mud cold on his bare feet. It was empty save for a metal pipe sticking out of the stone wall. Kimba pulled it down and it gave with ease. Dumbasses he thought to himself. A three foot area of the wall moved back silently, revealing an underground passage. Kimba figured that someone in the guild must have stumbled upon it, and he assumed it was made by the Shining Guard when they invaded, he remembered hearing of them making outposts in the city.
He climbed down and saw his theories to be correct. The small room was given an ominous atmosphere by the candles and torches that lit it up. The walls were made of dried mud and reinforced by stone. There were tables and chairs scattered about. There was a single hallway that had a torch for every few yards.
Kimba figured that if someone who lived here didn’t know where the leaders quarters were, that it must be challenging to find. He followed the hallway and saw that each torch marked a room that connected to the main hall, there were four torches total, but the hallway continued. He grabbed the last torch and continued down it. It went on for another fifteen yards before forking into two seperate hallways.
Kimba frowned. He decided with following the one on the left. He reached the end quickly and found nothing there. He went back and followed the right, only to find that it was empty as well. He looked around, looking for anything that might be a connection to a secret passage. After finding nothing he moved on back to the left one to do the same.
He had reached the fork when he heard a sound coming from below him, stopping in his tracks he strained his ears to listen. It sounded like water flowing. He looked below him to see a small metallic vent, just big enough for a person to squeeze through. It had to be where the sound was coming from.
Kimba stood to the side of it and kneeled down to lift it up. It was heavy, but it gave. Kimba strained it off to the side and peered into the hole. There was a shy green glow emitting from it. He set his hands on both sides of the hole and eased himself in. He felt his throat get thick.
The sound of flowing water had been coming from the walls around he now stood between, they were kept from flowing into the chamber by a clear glass of some sort. The water had also been the source of where the green glow was coming from. Kimba looked at it in amazement. He had never seen anything so alien.
He followed the direction the water was flowing, still carrying the torch. The walls progressively got rounder and smoother, the ceiling three feet above him. There was a rectangular opening at the end of the hallway with fire light coming from it. Kimba quickened his pace, reaching the opening and half jumped in there out of excitement.
He couldn’t believe it. It looked how he imagined a kings quarters would look. On the ceiling hung a flawless glass chandalier, with tall lit candles on each arm. The floor was covered in a maroon rug with gold trim, the seats on the exquisite chairs covered in a soft red velvet. The bed was neatly made, with big white pillows the size of him. Foreign wine sat on a superbly carved shelf in a corner next to the giant bed. The walls were covered in magnificent tapestries, one showing a picture of a green mythical creature with men kneeling before it.
The creature drew Kimba in, it held remarkable detail. It had a humanoid body with a wooden, dark green exterior, almost like an exoskeleton. It bore cracks in the wood, revealing a light green liquid inside of it that seemed to glow. It looked to flow under the creatures exoskeleton. Kimba paused. He glanced back out to the hallway. The glowing water flowing in the walls looked exactly like the water in the strange creature.
It was all too confusing for Kimba, he shook his head and continued looking for the quilt. He checked the drawer made of dark wood that stood next to the magnificent bed. A smile crossed his face.
As soon as the tips of his fingers touched the soft fabric in the drawer his eyes started to water. The pressure his chest felt caused it to start contracting. He threw his face into the silk and felt his tears get smeared around his eyes. He held it out to look at it. It wasn’t so bad, he remembered more of it being burned. It was still perfect to him.
His eyes glanced above the quilt, on a painted picture overlooking the bed. It seemed to call his gaze. It was a picture of a large island, he thought it to be untouched by man until he saw signs of civilization painted on a far corner of the land. He wondered where the island was, and if it was anything like the island he lived on.
No he thought to himself, there’s nothing worse than the Rhans. He never learned what his parents did to be sent to this island. It was probably called the “Outlaw Isles” more than it was its real name.
When prisons at the Shining Kingdom got full, those who weren’t executed got sent to Rahn by the boatload. Everyone here is either a criminal, or the offspring of a criminal. Thats what Kimba and his sister had been. He never did meet his parents, the only family related memories he had was that of his sister. No matter how much he asked, she would never tell him about their parents.
Kimba looked down from the picture and back to his quilt. He finally felt whole again. He almost felt sorry for killing that boy. But he wouldn’t be sorry for what he was about to do. He put his quilt in his pocket.
Kimba walked over to the walls and tore down the pictures and tapestries, ripped off the sheets from the bed and took the pillows. He placed them all in a pile with the chairs in the middle. Watching as his hands let go of the last sheet to cover the entire mound, he inched closer to it. He held the torch to the woolen covers. They instantly lit and expanded, a sight pleasant to his dancing eyes. The fire raged, bringing back memories of something that happened not long ago. He looked over towards the wine.
He knocked over the the shelf, watching the wine crash and bleed onto the floor before throwing torch into the fire, causing it to flare. Realizing he had probably been down in the base of a gang that wanted him dead long past his due, he walked into the hallway and headed for the hole in the catacombs with a quickened pace. He jumped up and caught the low hanging edge. Climbing up and getting to his feet, he walked toward the direction of the exit, not bothering to put the vent back in place.
Kimba reached the main room and grabbed for the final hole to get out when he heard a group of people walking his way. He panicked and immediately looked around, trying to find a place to hide. In the one of the dark corners was a table with two chairs in front of it, he saw no other option and hurried to it. He moved one of the chairs aside and crawled under the table before grabbing the chair and putting it back so that it blocked him from view. They were talking outside.
“Someone forgot to lock up,” He heard a slurred voice say, “Who was the last one out?” Kimba didn’t hear a reply, and guessed they had dropped the subject as the first member climbed in. That had to be Alamak. The big man couldn’t have been younger than eighteen, with a full face of hair. Kimba watched as he drunkenly stumbled over towards the end of the hallway, and the rest of the members jumped down behind him.
Kimba was really starting to wish he had put the vent back in place. It was only a matter of time. Thousands of scenarios rushed through his head, each worse than the last. As he came up with and dismissed his ideas, it seemed like they were all going down the hall to their rooms. He might actually be able to sneak out. Then he heard the yell. The stomps coming from down the hallway sounded like they packed two tons with each step.
“WHO WASH IN MY *hic* SCHAMBERS??” Alamak paraded from room to room eyeing each of his peons. They all bore the same expression. Fear that Alamak might take his anger out on them, and surprise that someone had actually found and entered his chambers.
Kimba pushed a chair outwards and decided it was now or never. He slowly crawled out from under the table and stood up with caution. He was likely not to be heard by anyone over the sound of Alamaks tantrum anyway but he wasn’t taking any chances. He tiptoed to the entrance with an eye down the hallway. Hearing Alamak yell words that were impossible to make out, he struggled to find whatever switch activated the door from inside.
Kimba felt around frantically, trying to find anything sticking out of the wall. There was a stone on the floor against it and he stepped on it to get a higher reach, except when he put his foot on it, it gave way to the pressure, and the ceiling pulled inward to reveal the stars of night. He really was down here awhile. He looked back to make sure no one was following him. What he saw made his bladder swell.
There was a big hulking form in the hallway but it was facing the other direction. Kimba felt a sense of relief before something in him went off. He felt his brow narrow, and his muscles tense. His hand reached for his knife in his pocket, and pulled it out. A power was overtaking him, and he needed to appease it. Memories of his sister flashed through his head. Her smile, her singing, her eyes that matched his. He went back to the night when he saw the quilt burn, and he snapped.
Without even thinking, he dashed down the hallway in full sprint, the hulking form getting bigger and bigger. Kimba felt alive. He jumped up and threw his hands above his head, both clutching the knife. Kimba flew towards the unwary figure and thrust his hands downward.
Kimba blacked out for two seconds before realizing his situation. There was a familiar warm sensation flooding his knuckles and running down his arms. The big man was screaming, but Kimba couldn’t hear it. He didn’t bother pulling the knife from Alamaks neck and instead dropped to the ground, feet already running. The mans screaming ended, but Kimba heard shouts and dozens of aggressive footsteps behind him. He knew that the entire gang was chasing him, and he already knew where he was going.
Reaching the entrance, he grabbed the drop off and pulled himself up and into the night. He would have to use the darkness as his ally. By the time he made it to the street, few Cygnus were out of the hole chasing him.
Kimba ran the streets, adrenaline rushing. Killing the leader of a gang and being chased by seventeen of its members had woken something up inside of him. He felt that his whole life up until this moment right here had been a constant shroud, a darkness keeping him from seeing life for what it could be. A darkness keeping him from seeing any possibilities.
He took a turn and ran toward the docks. Merchants would be docked, and he was going to board.
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