Sickleshipping: The Village of Thieves

Call Me Akefia

Chapter 1.

The eight year old child had been born a warrior. His lavender eyes were haunted with pain and his blonde hair stood up like knives. Veins pulsated from his forehead, the pressure behind his eyes growing unbearable. His name was unknown, but he called himself Mariku, because his brother's name had been Marik. The child scurried across the sand, hiding himself cleverly behind the overly large jars and vases on sale in the street market. The stranger he had chosen to rob was an older child, possibly seventeen years old. The older one was lean with some muscle and looked poor to begin with, since he had a scar and long, messy white hair. But Mariku had heard the jingling of gold coins in his pocket.

Mariku scuttled across the sand like a scarab, nimble fingers reaching up to the stranger's red cloak. His hand closed around some coins. Victory. His victory however was short lived as the stranger turned, catching him by the wrist quicker than Mariku's mind would register. The stranger stared at him with daggers in his royal purple eyes.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, kid?!" The stranger demanded, hoisting Mariku up off of his feet. He ripped the coins back out of the child's grasp.
"Nobody steals from the Thief King!"

The Thief King?! Mariku inwardly scolded himself. How could he not have known who this man was? He'd heard about the Thief King sure, but he couldn't really imagine ever crossing paths with the impressive legend. But he wasn't to think about that. He was to think about how to escape the man's iron grip.

"I'm sorry!" Mariku quivered, struggling futilely. He hoped the man wouldn't kill him. Stealing had almost been the perfect profession for him, since his lean weight and small body allowed him to ghost through crowds unnoticed. But how could he think of ever being able to evade the Thief King?!

"What?" The Thief King laughed.
"You're just like all the other kids in this village, right? You need to steal to feed your daddy's fucking opium habit and pay back his gambling debt!"

"N-no," Mariku whined.
"My parents are dead,"

Mariku watched a flash of pain appear in the Thief King's eyes. A flash of recognition, of understanding. He knew the pain of watching a family member die. Of having to steal to live. The screaming. Kul Elna.....

"I'm not going to kill you," the Thief King decided finally. Mariku smiled in relief, but that relief melted away when the Thief King narrowed his eyes again.
"I'm not letting you go. You stole from me. So I am stealing you. You are mine now!" He increased his grip on Mariku's wrist, laughing the entire time. The child wailed and the Thief King struck him across the face. Mariku shut up.
"You're coming with me. If you try to escape I'll kill you. Let's go,"

The Thief King pulled, dragging the child through the streets like any Egyptian parent did. Mariku didn't struggle, whilst he was afraid, he was excited at the prospect of a new life. An adventurous life. He'd been told stories of the Thief King, how he could bring the dead back to life, how he could turn old stones into monsters. How he sought to kill the pharaoh. Mariku hated the pharaoh with a passion. The pharaoh was the reason Marik was dead! Mariku wanted to give the new life a try. If the Thief King tried to harm him, he'd just kill him with he knife stowed in his robe. He'd done it before, after all.

At the edge of the city, Mariku was strapped over the back of a horse, a blindfold tied in place.
"Just a precaution," the Thief King explained.
"I can't have you knowing where I live yet,"

The ride was long and tiring, the camels tail swinging but the flies gathering annoyingly around Mariku anyway. Mariku felt the sun burn the scars on his back under his robes. Eventually the sun seemed cooler, and the blindfold was removed. Mariku was in a small village made up of twelve houses, buried deep in the crevasse of a cliff face. The towering walls of rock shielded the village from sight of guards or criminals. Mariku noticed how run down the houses were, as if they had been abandoned and then refurbished.  There were bloodstains on the walls.

"Welcome to the new Kul Elna!" The Thief King announced proudly.

Mariku was hauled off the camel by the Thief King, who stood him up and dusted him down. The Thief King was smiling and Mariku surveyed the village. Everyone was young, maybe twelve at oldest. Some looked over and smiled to the Thief King, who waved back. Mariku noticed the action was very paternal. He couldn't be the father of those children could he?!

The Thief King noticed what Mariku  was thinking.
"No," he dismissed.
"They aren't mine. These are kids like you. Their families abandoned them, or died. So I became their family. We're all a big community here. So I guess that these are my foster children,"

The Thief King looked to Mariku.
"It's nearly dark. On their first night, the new child sleeps with me so that I can keep them in my sight, but also so that they trust me. I won't hurt you Mariku, not unless you give me a reason. I'll sleep with you tonight so you can trust me and know that I care for you,"

Mariku nodded to show that he understood. The other children seemed happy there. Maybe he could be too. He looked up to see the Thief King smiling, looking out to the setting sun. The sky had turned blue, golden, amethyst. Mariku wondered if Marik had painted the sky those colours just for him, since amethyst and golden were his favourite. He saw the Thief King raise two fingers to his lips and blow.

The sound was high-pitched and deafening, as the Thief King let out an ear-splitting whistle that shook the rocks above. Mariku only stood, amazed and intimidated by the sound. He watched the children stop what they were doing and turn towards the Thief King like dogs to an owner. He spoke loudly.

"Sunset!" He called.
"If you're not in bed by five minutes you'll be sold to the Pharaoh as slaves!" Him and the children laughs together. Mariku took it as an inside joke amongst the little community the Thief King had set up. The children scurried around, entering the homes at about five per hut. The Thief King guided Mariku to the biggest house.

The Thief King's house had two separate rooms, one acting as a kitchen, covered in a thin layer of hay with a cooking pot sitting in the corner amongst blackened embers. The room behind, which Mariku was led into had a long red cushion for a bed, contained in all sides by a wooden pen so nobody could roll off the bed. Or escape. There was an open doorway to the side into a small, cornered off area stacked with dried leaves.

"That's the toilet," the Thief King explained.
"If you need during the night, wake me up and I'll watch you. I still can't be sure if you'll run away or not. And if you do, you'll probably starve. Or get heatstroke. So it's for your own safety that I want you to stay,"

Mariku nodded silently, unsure yet clutching to him for some sort of comfort. The Thief King sprawled out on the large cushion, exposing his toned abdomen. Mariku approached and lay on top of his chest, burying his head in the Thief King's nape, trying to crawl into the warmth and never be exposed to danger again. Mariku whispered-

"Goodnight, Thief King,"

A paternal grin crept across the Thief King's face.
"Call me Akefia,"