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The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

Kikuyu_Black_Paws

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Posts posted by Kikuyu_Black_Paws

  1. Lee rushed through the now busy streets, terror and desperation pumping through his veins. He had to find his brother! If he didn't...

     

    The problem was he had no idea where he was going, nor what he was searching for. As he ran he saw a guard, the scarlet of his curving armor glittering in the noon light. He shouted, grabbing him by the shoulder. "Please," he cried over the man's protests. "My brother has been kidnapped by two men! You have to help me!"

     

    The guard shoved his hand away with a snarl. "Get away from me!"

     

    Lee stared in horror. Was he not supposed to help? A man knocked into him from behind, and he was pushed every which way as the crowd went on their way. He felt rage fill him and he confronted the guard again. "If you will not help me then who can?"

     

    The guard pointed to a well build mansion on the corner of the street. "If you bother me again I'll lock you in the jail to cool your head," he growled.

     

    Lee stared in shock at the guard who turned away without another glance. Swallowing hard, he turned to the building not far down the street that the man had pointed at. Wading through the crowd, he pushed aside the cloth hanging in front of the door and entered the dusky room.

     

    Blinking as the change of light hit him, he peered towards the back. A shrewd man with glasses perched delicately upon his nose peered along a list. Lee rushed up to him. "Please," he begged. "My brother's been kidnapped!"

     

    The man did not look up from his writing. "Name?"

     

    "Riad Shakuren, brother of Lee Shakuren."

     

    "And when was he taken?"

     

    Lee felt his teeth grind together in frustration. "This morning, we have to hurry!"

     

    The magistrate sighed and slammed a book shut at his side. "No, that will never do. You will have to wait with all the others."

     

    Lee felt the blood drain from his face, his wide eyes sparkling with wrath and horror. "Wait?!"

     

    "Yes," the magistrate said, his voice trailing through his nose. "There is a waiting list. We have neither the men nor the funds to traverse across the city in search of every missing person." The magistrate laughed, placing a hand on his chest. "That would just be unthinkable."

     

    Lee grabbed the man by the shirt and pulled him forward. He knew that he probably was loosing it, that he'd probably already lost it, and that he must look like a demon straight from the fiery pits, but he didn't care. His teeth bared and his eyes narrowed to blazing green slits, he shoved his face forward so that he was nose to nose with the magistrate. "You're the man in charge here. You're supposed to protect your people, but you care more about money than anything else. But you're going to help me find my brother now!"

     

    "Now, now, such animosity will not do."

     

    Lee loosed the magistrate and looked up at the shadowy form that had appeared in the corner. Tall and dressed smartly in a suit, under which a flowing white shirt was tucked into an emerald green vest, a man had appeared in the door to the left, his hands clasped on the top of the cane set firmly between his feet. As he stepped into the light, Lee stepped back, overwhelmed by the man's presence. His hair was long and silver, but his face seemed beyond age, beyond this world at all. He pierced Lee with a gaze that held him and did not let him go until he looked away. Lee staggered back, gasping, realizing he had been holding his breath.

     

    The man had a straight, no nonsense face, clean and fierce, hawkish in its ferocity. But beneath it all lay a kindness, and immediately Lee ignored the magistrate. "I have to find my brother."

     

    The man beckoned to the door with his cane. "Then by all means go. Shoo."

     

    Lee grit his teeth. "I cannot do it alone. I need your help."

     

    The man smiled faintly. "Was that so hard?" He pulled something out of his pocket and held it up. It was a long stemmed rose, blood red, and the perfume of it filled the air.

     

    Lee gaped. "Where did you get that?" he whispered.

     

    "From your doorstep. A serving girl reported the disturbance and it was inspected. You know that this is the same token that was left by the muggers of Ukai?"

     

    Lee stiffened. "You think there's a connection?"

     

    The man shrugged. "I know there is. His name is Menein Yonochi. He is my brother." Ignoring Lee's shock, he laid the rose on the table and shooed the magistrate away. "Unfortunately, he has cut off all contact with me and I do not know what he is up to. I do know where he resides, though I would severely discourage any attempt at barging in and rescuing your brother right away." The man stroked his chin thoughtfully. "He is a very dangerous and heartless man."

     

    Lee leaned forward. "Just tell me what to do."

  2. As dawn broke over Kuunai in a glorious myriad of scarlet and pink and orange, the Dark Lord turned to his window to watch the sunrise. The light hit his face, revealing a smooth, straight jaw, hawkish features, and intelligent, arching brows. His sleek black hair was smoothed back from his brow, and as the light touched it, it glimmered bluely. He stared at the cobbled streets from under his long black lashes, large eyes taking in every detail.

     

    This morning his dark black vest was patterned with dark blue vines, sparkling in the dawn light. His billowing white shirt was immaculate as ever, his black slacks as perfectly ironed and lint-less. Around his waist was a dark sapphire cloth belt, and as usual, a rose graced his artist hands.

     

    A young girl carried laundry towards the river below. He followed her with his eyes and she looked up as she felt his gaze upon him. She froze in awe, struck dumb by this phantom of beauty who had appeared from the old mansion believed uninhabited.

     

    A disturbance from below made him turn, and his face was again cast into shadow, his eyes narrowing in distaste. His right and left hand men appeared through the doorway, dragging a battered young man, his longish, spiky brown hair falling into his eyes. The Dark Lord sat in his scarlet armchair, pressing the tips of his fingers together in a business-like manner, studying the captive before him.

     

    One of the cronies grabbed a fistful of hair and forced Riad's head back, his eyes immediately captured in the Dark Lord's unfathomable gaze. But in an instant the spell was broken and Riad's face was twisted into a waxy mask of pain as his left arm was twisted cruelly behind his back. The Dark Lord held up a hand with a laugh. "Easy friends, we do not want to cripple him." As the strange men dropped Riad onto the ground, the Dark Lord stood and crouched in front of the young man. "My apologies, young man," he purred. "They tend to become overexcited." With a shooing gesture he dismissed the thugs, and they turned away, scowling down at Riad. The door shut behind them with a slam of finality.

     

    The Dark Lord turned and stopped behind his armchair, his hands clutching the smooth cloth. For a moment he studied his hands, their long fingers and wide palms, slender through it all. Then he looked up at Riad, who was massaging his shoulder ruefully. "Do you know why you are here, then?"

     

    Riad grimaced, anger and resentment bubbling treacherously close to the surface. "Sorry, I missed the memo."

     

    The tall man grinned, flashing pearly white teeth, his eyes glimmering in the faint light. "Your talent with words has been spread far and wide. And I am in the need of a translator, as it were. Would you be interested?"

     

    Riad felt temptation override his pain, and he eyed the regal man curiously, suspiciously. "What kind of job are you talking about?"

     

    The Dark Lord laughed. "Come with me."

     

    He led Riad through another door into a maze of halls. The walls were decorated with all matter of masks and mirrors, daggers and swords. The Dark Lord swept a hand. "This is my gallery," he mused with obvious pride. "Few have heard of it, and even fewer have entered its depths." Suddenly he disappeared behind a shelf, reappearing again, his face staring back at Riad from a dozen mirrors, a mask across his upper face. His eyes laughed at the young man. "Charming isn't it?"

     

    Riad swallowed hard. He found it creepy, actually. But he didn't feel it wise to disagree. "Ah...it's...lovely. Yeah..." his words dwindled into silence as his host disappeared again from sight. In another moment he was seen in another hall, reflected again in a mirror, buckling a silver rapier to his hip. Turning, his eyes connecting with Riad's, he arched a long finger in a gesture of beckoning. Hesitantly, Riad made his way through the halls.

     

    "There is an ancient tome here that has been the envy of many of my colleagues." The Dark Lord's voice floated through the halls to Riad, though he was unsure of where the man actually was. "Some say its powers could overthrow the Kingdom of Neelai and the lands beyond." Riad caught a glimpse of the Dark Lord's face then, and he felt chills traverse down his spine at the greed and contempt in his gaze. A short laugh preceded his disappearance again. "Unfortunately, it is in an older language, one I myself cannot interpret. I was hoping you could for me."

     

    Riad suddenly found himself in a large circular room. At the center was the book lying on a pedestal, open to the middle. An ancient script scrawled across the yellowed pages, and Riad touched it with reverent fingers. Again a shiver of something demonic crawled across his skin and for a moment he thought he heard maniacal laughter. He jerked back, and the Dark Lord was standing next to him. "What do you think?" he hissed.

     

    Riad shook his head slowly. "I'm not sure I should. And there's the matter of my brother..."

     

    His host laughed again. "A pity. I was so hoping you would do so willingly. I hate forcing people needlessly."

     

    Riad looked up sharply at the Dark Lord. "You mean you're going to hold me here until I do it for you?"

     

    His host turned back to him, a slow smile curving the corners of his lips. "Why, yes."

     

    Riad snarled in anger. "You have no right! The very fact that your cronies assaulted me and brought me here by force is enough to put you in jail for a long time! When the authorities hear about this..."

     

    The Dark Lord cut him off, his smile widening horribly. "When? Oh no my dear boy, it's a matter of if. And even if your brother does manage to contact any authorities, he will have no way of matching me to the crime. And even if he could, by some miraculous happenstance, connect me and your kidnap, there wouldn't be an authority who would continue with the search. My name alone will be enough to discourage that." He gripped Riad's upper arm fiercely, his eyes sparkling maliciously. "I am not one to be trifled with, young Riad. I suggest you get started on that book now."

     

    And he disappeared through the various halls, a hand on his silver rapier hilt.

  3. The underling shivered in a mixture of terror and exhaustion as he knelt before the seated Dark Lord. Although he had done nothing wrong, although he had carried out the orders to a 'T', he was still afraid for his life. Why else would he be kneeling here now, before him?!

     

    The Dark Lord pressed long, pale fingers together in a motion of thoughtfulness, his long dark hair falling in waves about an obscured face. Sitting in a plush red arm chair, his long slender legs crossed before him, he cut an impressive figure. Long black slacks clothed his legs, shiny black shoes covered his long feet, and a billowing white shirt fastened at the wrists by blood red pins frothed out from the tightly fit, black vest that accentuated his narrow waist and broad shoulders. A rose lay along the chair's arm, and the Dark Lord picked it up without a word, a glimmer of eyes appearing in the flickering fire light. The strong line of a smooth jaw, a noble, straight nose, and then the face was lost again in shadow. And that was the way it was supposed to be.

     

    A high cold voice, regal and demanding, protruded from the hidden lips. "I trust that your mission went well, Ukai? After all, I've heard such impressive things about you and your abilities."

     

    Ukai shivered and nodded his balding head, not nearly the impressive figure at all. The Dark Lord's right and left hand men, standing back out of the way, sneered in contempt for the little, slimy urchin, but the Dark Lord kept his eyes fixed upon Ukai. "It is not the first time you have come before me, is it Ukai?"

     

    Ukai shook his head. "N-no my lord," he whispered. "I w-was once h-here at your r-request."

     

    The Dark Lord twirled the rose in his hands, and for a moment the rich red petals disappeared in shadow as he brought them to his face, inhaling their rich, intoxicating scent deeply. Then all of a sudden he stood.

     

    Ukai flinched back as the over six-foot tall man strode to the window at the back, his long hair swaying with his even stride. "And why were you here again? Remind me, I seem to have forgotten."

     

    Ukai withered within. It was not a pleasant night to remember. "I...I had...f-f-failed, my lord."

     

    The Dark Lord turned abruptly back, his eyes glimmering brightly now. "Yes," he hissed. "I remember now." With three long strides he was standing next to the tiny man and shoving his face closer to Ukai's. "It was a pathetic loss," he spat, and Ukai flinched as if the Dark Lord's words were venom. "And I trust that your triumph this night will not swell your head. You've lost enough hair as it is. Tell me, Ukai, make my old ears rejoice and tell me that it will be so."

     

    Ukai nodded fervently. "Yes my lord," he pleaded. "Of course my lord."

     

    The Dark Lord straightened and turned away with a sigh. "Very good. You may go."

     

    Ukai had never walked so fast. As soon as he was out the door he let out a breath of relief, glad to have gotten away with hardly a reprieve at all. Oh he was certain he would not let this go to his head. He remembered all to well the Dark Lord's wrath. And it was not a pleasant memory.

     

    The Dark Lord stared out at the streets, his malevolent gaze watching as Ukai departed down the cobbled lane. Without looking back he addressed his right and left hand men. "Make sure he understands the gravity of his role. I will not have any mistakes about my rule here. And I will not have him thinking he has escaped my gaze."

     

    The two burly men grinned, making various scars twitch and pull. Their various adornments and weapons jostled as they went, and the two left the Dark Lord and began their pursuit of the unfortunate pawn.

     

    Perhaps it would not be such a boring night after all.

     

    * * * * *

    Dawn was just trickling through the blinds. The clock ticked, 6 00 showing on its fluorescent green, digital face. A large bed lay against the center wall among a room of disarray, a lump the only sign of life under the covers. The door burst open and a young man flew spread-eagled into the bed, landing on top of the lump and bouncing up and down. A wild groan, matching the bounces as breath was forced out of squeezed lungs, protruded from the blankets and a mass of wild, spiky hair appeared. The young man who had just jumped in, clad in black and navy-blue striped pajamas, grinned wildly, flashing a brilliantly white smile out of his tanned face. "What, still abed at this hour?"

     

    "Gerroutovit..." the blob of blankets snarled.

     

    The tan young man flashed another grin and held up the morning's news. "Don't you want to know the news? Ukai was found last night, beaten and unconscious on the street side. Strangely enough, he wasn't missing any of his money or valuables. Even more strangely, a red rose was found near the scene of the crime. Coincidence? I think not."

     

    The lump suddenly thrashed, blankets flying, and another young man with spiky brown hair ruffled from the pillow appeared, his large green eyes wide in shock. "What!? Someone was attacked? By whom!?"

     

    The young man shrugged and flashed the newspaper. "Doughnuts are half off."

     

    The other young man scrambled from bed. "How can you just act like nothing is happening Lee? This is the biggest event since...since..." he waved a hand vaguely. "Since who knows when, and you're concerned about DOUGHNUTS?!"

     

    Lee tossed the paper over his shoulder. "Yeah well, when you work with a guy who only sleeps and never eats, the stomach tends to protest. Just in case you hadn't noticed, I was talking about you Riad."

     

    Riad scowled. "I do too eat!"

     

    Lee rolled his eyes. "Yeah. Water."

     

    Riad shook his head as he pulled on a jacket. "Yeah, well, this isn't exactly the Kingdom of Neelai is it? We're stranded in stinking Kuunai."

     

    The doorbell rang and Lee made his way towards it, still pouring through the paper. A crash sounded down the hall behind him, followed by Riad's agonized scream of frustration. Lee glanced back to see him on the ground, wrestling with his blankets, when he opened the door.

     

    He turned and froze. Two tall, burly men with strange clothing and covered in weapons and scars, were grinning at him widely. "Going somewhere?"

     

    Lee forced a grin onto his face. "Not really. You rang the doorbell, I answered it."

     

    The men forced themselves inside, eyeing their surroundings contemptuously. Lee's grin disappeared. "By all means, come in," he said blandly.

     

    Riad's voice floated from the room down the hall. "Who is it Lee?"

     

    The two mens' head snapped up and they made the journey down the hall swiftly. Lee hurried after them, his indignation turning swiftly to rage and fear. "What do you want here?" he snarled.

     

    As if on cue, the smaller man turned back, his silvery hair falling across one red rimmed eye. Garbed in a white, flowing shirt with scarlet edges and a scarlet belt, his slacks black and his sandals wooden in the traditional style, the strange man made Lee step back in caution. A katana was sheathed at his hip, and Lee felt his hatred for this freak rising. Especially when he grinned at Lee. Without a word he grabbed the young man and pinned his arms together. Lee struggled wildly, roaring in frustration, and similar noises from down the hall indicated that Riad had been caught to.

     

    Riad was dragged into the hall half dressed, dark black slacks his only garment. His muscular chest gleamed in the light as he struggled, but the right hand man only laughed and grabbed his hair, another hand pinning his hands together behind his back. He carried Riad out the door and the left hand man shoved Lee to the ground, disappearing out into the streets as well.

     

    Lee charged out the door, expecting to pursue the kidnappers and rescue his brother, but they were nowhere to be seen. Chest heaving with exertion and rage and wild fear, Lee looked up and down the street for his brother.

     

    What was he to do now?

     

    ***

     

     

    Ps! who likes the bad guy already?!! *raucous cheering* that's what I thought!!!

  4. The night was quiet, peaceful. Not a dog barked, not an owl called its lonely cry to the moon. The moon itself was huge and golden, casting its light along the grass in front of the private barracks, owned by the most prodigious merchant in the land.

     

    And also the most hated crime lord.

     

    Across the lawn stole a shadow. It went so fast that any who might have even seen it would not be sure it was actually there, and they swiftly dismissed it from their minds.

    The shadow arrived at the wall and clung to it, a pair of sparkling eyes reflecting the moonlight. For a brief instance that shadow stepped into the light to peek up at the unwary guards, completely oblivious to the fact that they were about to be infiltrated. The light streamed over the tall young man's lean body like silver, shadowing his lean muscles. His dark eyes glittered with knowledge and wicked amusement. His hair, dark and long enough to hang into his eyes, was ruffled and unkempt. Across his face was a dark blue mask, the light of the moon casting his hidden facial features into sharp shadow. Linen wrappings covered his hands and legs, strange golden shoes adorning his feet. His dark blue vest helped him blend into the night; a red tattoo upon his bicep twitched as he moved. A katana was sheathed at his back, and a pouch of shurikan hung from his belt. A small twitch of his mask hinted at the hidden smile, and he melted back into the shadows.

     

    The ninja stole along the border of the barracks until he came to an air vent. Eyeing it, he recognized it as the one he had noted on his prior investigation. The screws were old and loose, and he easily, silently pried the cover off. The opening was only big enough for a very narrow, very slender man. Luckily, the ninja was both.

     

    The ninja leapt lightly into the vent and crawled along on hands and knees, his clothing rustling gently in the slight breeze that came from the air system. He paused, cocking his head and sniffing the air. For a moment it seemed as if he would draw a shurikan, as if an enemy was fast approaching, but then he continued on as if nothing had given him reason to pause. He passed many vents, eyeing the rooms they led to, lights on, filled with talking soldiers, samurai, and ninjas, but he entered none of them.

     

    Finally he came to the room he was searching for. The lights were off and in a huge plush bed, fast asleep, lay the short fat man that the ninja had come to visit. Peering through the vents, his eyes narrowed as he felt contempt and rage fill his throat with galling ferocity. How many livelihoods had this single man crushed with his mindless greed? How many innocents had he imprisoned? Well, that would all end tonight.

     

    Gently pressing outwards, the ninja loosed the vent from its holding and then drew it back in after him, setting it down noiselessly. He crawled out of the vent and landed on the floor in a crouch, eyeing his surroundings. Outside, sillouheted against the light of the hall, was the shadow of a guard. A long rod-shaped shadow branching from the guard's shoulder told the ninja that he was armed with a long blade, probably a katana. But that did not matter. If all went well he would be gone before they even knew of his deed.

     

    The ninja crept up to the merchant's bedside and stared down at him, fingering the long knife he held in his hand. For a moment he paused in memory of those he knew and loved who had been harmed by this thoughtless, evil man. What he was doing was right and just. He raised the knife, his eyes narrowing with concentration.

     

    A dog's booming bark shattered the silence, and the man beneath the knife-point jerked awake. Startled, the ninja did not move quickly enough, and the merchant cried out. With a muted curse the ninja sheathed his long knife and drew his katana as guards rushed through the door.

     

    A few clashing blows were struck, the ninja backing up towards the vent. He could not get in like this, he knew it. Transfering his katana to his right hand, he reached into his shurikan pouch with his left, parrying all blows as he did so. With a cry he drew a small black ball from the pouch and threw it on the ground. Thick, choking smoke exploded into the room, and while the clumsy guards coughed and tried to get free of the shroud, the ninja stole away among their ranks.

     

    When the smoke cleared, the guards looked around frantically for the shadow that had disappeared. He was nowhere to be seen. And neither was the merchant.

     

    The ninja carried the unconscious crime lord back to his village and dumped him upon the ground in front of his superior. "Here," he said in a soft, melodic voice. "Do with him as you wish. But make sure that his punishment is equal to every crime he has commited." Without another word the ninja slipped away into the forest.

     

    The ninja arrived at a small hut and entered, flopping upon the modest cot with a sigh. He lay there for a moment as sunlight filtered through his window and he soaked up the peace. A fox-squirrel peered at him from a treebranch, visible through his open window. It cocked its head and scrambled over to him, landing on his chest as he took a flying leap from the branch. The ninja chuckled dryly and scratched the small black fellow behind the ear. "Hello Orchiru," he muttered. "I'm home."

     

    A footstep at his door revealed how tired the ninja really was. Sitting up with a start, wondering why he hadn't heard the visitor before, the ninja stood and bowed to the lady who had appeared at his hut. Dressed in ninja garb covered by a flowing kimono, the lady of the village smiled at him cooly. "They have finished with the trial of the merchant and he has been repayed for all his evils. Finally he has reaped what he has sown. Thank you Kikuyu."

     

    Kikuyu bowed his head. "What he did also affected me, my lady," he whispered.

     

    The lady's face contorted in forgotten pain. "Ah yes," she whispered. "I'd forgotten about your mother and sister. I am truly sorry. But now they are avenged, and you can rest."

     

    Kikuyu placed a hand on the hilt of his blade. "I am a ninja, Princess," he said. "I will not rest from protecting my home from those who wish to destroy it."

     

    A hint of a smile wrinkled the corners of the Princess's eyes. "I would hope so, Kikuyu Black Paws. If you were no longer here, I would not feel safe."

     

    Kikuyu bowed and watched the Princess move silently away from his home. He sat back on his cot and tickled the little fox-squirrle's nose, his expression sombre. Yes his mother and sister were avenged, their deaths repayed. But it did not fill the gaping hole in his chest. Nothing ever would.

     

    * * * *

     

    Wyvern, this is all I could come up with in a jiffy. Strangely, it doesn't feel right. My brain isn't communicating my proper and usual vocabulary and descriptions to me....it must be the brain goo (ask Degorram ha ha). I hope you like it.

     

    ~Kikuyu

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