The Origins of the Kwami

Prolouge

A princess.
If there was one way to say what Princess Tikkiana of the Xia Dynasty was, it would be that she was the daughter of the emperor.
And Tikkiana hated that. She loathed that her father did nothing when there were civilians dying at the Gate, begging for food.
She hated that he did nothing when her stepmother had her engaged to her uncle.
And most of all, she hated that she did nothing.
The world was passing her by, learning and evolving and growing. Without her. There was a whole universe out there, one speck in the sky that surrounds them, and she was unable to explore the wonders that were waiting to be spotted.
But Tikki sat. She obeyed. She is nothing more than an object to be pawed at, played.
But one day, they would know that she had a wild heart. And as soon as her mother had died they would know that that rope had snapped. They didn't know what she was hunting for. They didn't know that she was about to pounce on her prey.
Freedom.

A street rat. A thief. A cat burglar. If there is one word to describe Plagg, it would be that.
Plagg was a lonely thief in the heart of China in a small village. He tried to keep his job, the gods know, but it's not like the gods helped him anyway. He could never keep up with the payment the emperor was demanding. He was a radar of bad luck.
The only thing that kept him going was the silver stone ring that gleamed on his left hand. It had been a gift from his mother, seconds before she died of a terrible illness in ancient China.

"Never take it off," Milen Zou whispered.
Plagg's mother slipped off the ring on her petite hand and held it out to 10 year old Plagg, her hands trembling so bad that her son had to hold onto her hand to grab the jewel. "Just in case," she croaked.
Plagg let the piece of silver drop into his hand and slid it on, not taking his eyes off the one woman he cared about.
Plagg felt his eyes burn with the will to cry. Tiny daggers stabbed the green of his eyes,  making them glisten a beautiful shine. "No," Plagg's voice cracked and he squeezes his eyes shut so hard that it hurt his brain.
But instead of stopping the flood of tears that was about to waterfall, a few tears spotted his cheek and slid down, dropping on his mother's cheek. "Don't cry," she breathed. 
Her hold on his arm tightened with the urgency of him not listening to her.  Plagg turned head to the side to try and not let his brave, beautiful, mama see him slowly crumbling. "Don't cry, Plagg." Milen started to shake his arm, though it was frail and weak,it made Plagg turn away and start crying harder. The daggers were hurting more.  "Dont cry, Plagg, don't cry I said," she cried more frantically, but still he wouldn't look. "I SAID DON'T CRY, PLAGG," she screamed,  sobbing. 
Plagg swung his head when he heard his mom shriek his name, and Milen saw her beautifully crafted son stared back at her with his eyes red and watery and tears streaking down his dirt stained cheeks like marks of a bee's stripes.
Milen raised her hand to cup the back of Plagg's neck before bringing him down and imprinting the last kiss of a mother on his lips. Milen could feel the dampness of his cheeks and the shuddery gasps of his chest agins hers.
Milen Zou looked up at the eyes that looked like the father's. "Just in case," she sighed, and closed her eyes. Plagg stared at his mom for a moment, wondering if it really happened.
"Mama?" Plagg asked. "Are you sleeping?" A terrible dread shot his stomache. Plagg quickly scrambled off his mom and stared down at her. She looked liked she was sleeping. Plagg rested his head against Milen's chest and let it rest.
For a moment, nothing happened. A gastly shriek ripped through the Forbidden Forest.
For a moment, Plagg wondered where the dreadful sound came from until he realized. The sound came from him. His mama was dead. There was nothing pulsing under the protection of her skin.
A dry sob of the numbing sadness was dragged from his throat and Plagg's shoulders shook. "No....." Plagg whispered. "No, no, no, no, NO!" Plagg screamed. "YOU PROMISED!"
He shrieked at the top of his lungs, "YOU PROMISED THAT WE'D WAIT FOR DAD TOGETHER!"
Plagg let himself go limp in his mama's dead arms, crying heatedly. "No... " he whispered once. "I can't do this alone..." He whimpered pathetically, like lost kitten mewling for his mother.
Plagg stayed like that, for hours, and once nightfall arrived was when Plagg closed his eyes and took deep breathings, his sobbings ceasing and his tear ducts drying.
Plagg opened his eyes, still enveloped on his mother's dead embrace and looked at the silver ring that his mother always cherished banded on his left ring finger.
Plagg took a deep breath so that his mind cleared. The first order if business was a burial.
Oh mama, Plagg thought. What did you mean by "Just in case?"

Just in case of what?