Castle on the Rock

January 1867

The industrial revolution has taken the world by storm. The castle stands.

Jimmy's ears were filled with the sounds of a sea of people, laughing, shouting and hollering. The scents of smog and brine, with the sharp tang of sewage, filled his nose. But it had stopped affecting him long ago, now the smells just served to remind him of his jobs.

He pushed roughly through the crowds of factory workers, ignoring the indignant mutters of the people he had pushed. He arrived at the inn where his boss operated. Pushing in, his eyes were immediately assaulted by the sight of the old drunkard dancing naked on an empty table. Men were laughing raucausly and throwing scraps of food at him. The old man just waltzed, grinning at the room with his blackened teeth. Shaking his head, Jimmy squinted around the poorly lit room, trying to spot Charlie Lighthand. 

"Oi." Jimmy turned around to see Charlie lounging on a chair, a foul smelling cigar between his teeth. "You're the kid right?"

"Yessir" Jimmy repied, holding out a grimy hand. "Hawken told me t' go to here cause you's got money for me. I ran all the messages wha' he told me sir." 

Charlie reached into his coat pocket, and dropped a couple of dusty silver coins into Jimmy's awaiting hand. 

Jimmy looked at them for a few seconds before looking back up at Charlie in confusion. "But this's only half o' wha' Hawken told me I'd get"

Charlie looked down at him, dark eyes devoid of any sympathy. "Oh no." He said, in his distinctly gruff voice before turning back to the clearly riveting game of cards going on behind him.

Jimmy's face burned red, but he knew better than to try and argue with Charlie Lighthand. Now that would be real suicide. Instead he just huffed angrily and pushed his way out of the inn. 

As he wandered back through the dark alleyways and past the river, he kicked stones angrily. Stupid parents. Stupid James Hawken. Stupid Charlie fuckin' Lightwood. The pair of pricks didn't realise how much Jimmy risked running messages for them. If caught, he could be sent all the way to Australia.

With an angry yell he kicked the stone as far as he could, pushing all his anger into the one rock. It fell with a satisfying sploosh into the filthy excuse for water of the canal.  

"That's it. Get all your anger out." Came a croaky voice from somewhere in the shadows. Jimmy whirled around in fear, clenching the blade in his pocket for reasurace. 

"Who's there?" He yelled loudly.

An old wrinkled man stepped into the moonlight. He grinned at Jimmy. "You wouldn't stab an innocent old man would you?" 

Jimmy just stared. 

"Well, I haven't got all night lad." The old man turned and hobbled away down the alley, the lights from shops making his shadown a giant on the stone. 

"Hey, hey mister." Jimmy called, but the man didn't slow his pace. So he ran a bit to catch up. Out of breath, he puffed steam into the freezing night air. 

"Wher're ya taking me?" Jimmy finally forced out. 

But the man was silent.  

They kept walking. Abrubtly stopping at the city gates, where a path led to the castle ruins. He pointed his cane, with a surprisingly steady arm.

"See that."

He nodded.

"That's where I go when I feel like you."

"Like... me?"

The man waved his hand in the air, "You know... worthless, forgotten, like no-one in the world understands." 

Jimmy huffed and looked at his rugged boots. 

The man just walked through the gates and began walking up the path. 

"Well, aren't you coming?" 

Jimmy folded his arms. "I migh' be poor but I ain't an idiot. You could be a murderer, or raper or something."

The man just laughed. "Well, I guess you'll just have to trust me then."

He kept walking, and Jimmy glanced at the ruins in the distance, curiosity taking over all logic in his brain. 

Shaking his head, he muttered, "bloody hell",  and followed the man up the beaten cobblestone road to the forgotten castle.