The Origin of Kyra

Chapter two

If Mal and Kyra lived above a shop, Jay, son of Jafar, actually lived inside one, sleeping on a worn carpet beneath a shelf straining under ancient television sets with manual dials, radios that never worked, and telephones that had actual cords attached to them. His father had been the former grand vizier of Agrabah, feared and respected by all, but that was a long time ago, and the evil enchanter was now the proprietor of Jafar's Junk Shop, and Jay, his only son and heir, was also his sole supplier. If Jay's destiny had once been to become a great prince, only his father remembered it these days.

"You should be on top of an elephant, leading a parade, waving to your subjects," Jafar mourned that morning as Jay prepared for school, pulling a red beanie over his long, straight dark hair and choosing his usual attire of purple-and-yellow leather vest and dark jeans. He flexed his considerable muscles as he pulled on his black studded gloves. "Whatever you say, Dad!" Jay winked with a mischievous smile. "I'll try to steal an elephant if I come across any."

Because Jay was a prince, all right. A prince of thieves, a con man, and a schemer, whose lies were as beautiful as his dark eyes. As he made his way through the narrow cobblestone streets, dodging rickshaws manned by Professor Ratigan's daredevil crew, he took advantage of their frightened passengers ducking under clotheslines weighed down by tattered robes and dripping capes to filch a billfold or two. Ursula chased him away from her fish and chips shop, but not before he had managed to grab a handful of greasy fries, and he took a moment to admire a collection of plastic jugs of every size and shape offered by another storefront, wondering if he could fit one in his pocket.

Every manner of Auradon trash was recycled and repurposed on the island, from bathtubs to door handles, as well as from the villains' own formerly magical accoutrements. A shop advertised USED BROOMS THAT DON'T FLY ANYMORE BUT SWEEP OKAY, and crystal balls that were only good as goldfish bowls these days.

As vendors laid out rotten fruit and spoiled vegetables under tattered tents, Jay swiped a bruised apple and took a bite, his pockets bulging with pilfered treasures. He waved a cheerful hello to a chorus of hook-nosed witches gathered at a slanted balcony Madam Mim's granddaughters, who, while relieved to be out of his sticky fingers' reach, swooned at his greeting nonetheless.

Maleficent's henchmen, large boar-like men in leather rags with the familiar aviator-style caps pulled down over their eyes, snuffled an almost unintelligible hello as they passed him on their way to work. Jay deftly took their caps without their noticing and shoved them down the rear of his trousers, planning to sell them back to the guys the next day like he did every week. But he resisted the urge to trip them up as well. There just wasn't time to do everything in one day. Looking for something to wash down the sour taste of the apple, Jay caught sight of a familiar face taking a sip from a paper cup bearing the Slop Shop logo and grinned.

Perfect.

"What in Lucifer's name?" Mal cried as the cup disappeared from her fingers. She hesitated for a second before realization hit. "Give it back, Jay," Kyra said, hands on her hips, addressing the empty space on the sidewalk.

He snickered. It was so much fun when both Mal and Kyra were mad. "Make me."

"Jay!" she snarled. "Make you what? Bruise?" She asked. "Bleed? Beg? Thief's choice. today." Kyra added. "Fine. Jeez," he said as he slunk out from the shadows. "Mmm, pressed hot mud, my favorite." He handed her back her cup, feeling wistful.

Mal took a sip and grimaced. "Actually, it's disgusting, you can have it. You look hungry." "Really?" He perked up. "Thanks, Mal, Kyra. I was starving"

"Don't thank us, it's particularly awful today. I think they threw some raw toads into the brew this morning," she said. "Bonus! Extra protein." Amphibians or not, Jay drained it in one shot. He wiped his lips and smiled. "Thanks, you're a pal," he said in all honesty, even though he ,Mal and Kyra weren't friends, exactly, although they were partners in crime.