Chapter Text
The hustle and bustle of the capital was something one got used to. People hauling carts of goods through the streets, others perusing the market, and some doing their morning chores. The smell of poverty, shit and fresh baked bread wafting through the air. In the middle of it all I am walking along in confident strides. Glancing briefly at the different stalls, some selling vegetables, others selling meat, jewelry, weapons, you name it. As I pass one stall, a vendor selling apples, I snag one.
A lovely green apple, vibrant and fresh. I polish it on my shirt and keep walking. Bringing the fruit up to my lips and biting into it, the pulp gives way under my teeth.
In my new, poor life I was just... Judas. No crown, no expectations hung over my head. Of course, there were rumors, and for a while there had been guards searching every nook and cranny in the city for a supposed runaway king, but eventually it ceased. No one knew anything or had heard of anything. I knew that the king was seething at the thought, he probably expected to hold me hostage or kill me in vengeance of his late mother.
After the war that killed my father, our kingdoms weren’t on good terms. I reminisced this as I stared up at the castle looming above me. Turning on my heel, I continue walking down the well beaten path towards the brothel. Drinking and whoring had become a pastime, and I had become close with the owner, he had been helping me with certain things. As I neared my destination, I could hear the music and voices of patrons inside, though certain conversations stood out to me. Suddenly wary, I turned down the side alley between the brothel and another building, and found a window, peering through the shutters to try and catch a glance of what was going on inside.
Two guards, standing at the bar, talking to the owner. From where I was, I could hear them clearly now. “...you’ve seen nothing at all? Are you sure? Because if you’re lying to me, I will have you rotting in the dungeons.” one threatened, but he did not seem perturbed. The owner replied with a shake of his head, mumbling something about being completely truthful with a sneer prominent on his scarred face. So, the king was still looking for me, I had thought he would have tired of it by now. After a while, the guards eventually left, and I waited for a moment before heading in.
As I passed through the doors, my eyes met those of the man tending the bar, a deep gash etched into one side of his face, the false eye staring off into nothing. He grinned at me, I sauntered over, pulling a chair up and seating myself. His eyebrow raised, “Judas, you’re very bold to sit at the bar, guards could walk in at any moment...” I search his gaze, then brush it off.
“Alex, important business talk here, do you have it?” I ask, not waiting for small talk. Alex looks at me, before glancing around to make sure no one was listening in, he leans in close. “It’s in the back, ready for whenever you need it. But listen to me, I have something else... Something less... Flashy if you know what I mean. I know it isn't your style, but it would save you the trouble.'' His voice is a low whisper, and as he talks a coy smile makes its way onto his lips. I frown slightly, my eyes narrowing.
He knows I have this plan set, and I will not veer from it, it has been years in the making. This is my chance, and he is well aware that I will not waste it on his silly tricks. Why would he even think to make me stray from it? “That isn’t the plan. You know this, you know what I want, if you try anything... it won't just be the palace.” My words are merely a warning, and Alex seems to bristle at them, his eyebrows furrowing. “The plan? You haven’t told me a lick of the plan, Judas. You tell me it isn’t mine to know, and that I’m not as involved as I make myself out to be, so what the hell do you mean?” I stared at him, opening my mouth to question him, he was.. he was in on it.
But then, the chime of a bell, ringing throughout the city.
The change of the guard. I close my mouth, standing from my stool and turning to leave. Alex says something that I do not hear, my mind set on what I must do.
I exit the brothel, a worker stopping me on my way out, her sheer gown leaving little to the imagination. I do not engage, not now, a polite nudge and she is out of my way. My legs take me through winding streets, around others trying to get wherever they are going. I spare glances at vendors in their stalls and the produce that they sell, though I have absolutely no money to buy things from them.
I turned down a side alley suddenly, following the route that I had every day for four years. I knew it like the back of my hand, as I did with every alley in the city, there was practically nowhere I hadn’t been at least once. I had the catacombs to thank for this. They were tunnels nearly forgotten, only the oldest residents remembered them, and no one dared go down there but me, and there was little to nothing about them in old history books. Besides the one I stole.
That was how I had found them, and made them into my own haven, my safe way through the city whenever I’d like; I only took the book to keep others from finding about my little hideaway.
I glance behind me, walking faster, I turn down another path that winds under an old, dilapidated bridge and ends in a dead end. It got steep as it led under the structure, having caused me to slip a few times in the past. The decaying wood had become home to colonies of termites, and I had learned the hard way that it could no longer hold the weight of a grown man.
The splintered planks of wood that lay under a hole in the bridge were evidence of this.
I had to get on my hands and knees to crawl into the space, dirt smearing on my hands and caking under my nails, I pressed low to the ground and moved further until I was met with a rusted grate. The old wrought-iron nails that once held it to the ground were broken and ripped out by yours truly, I had stepped on one once, which I believe was karma. With a grunt and the screech of metal scraping I yanked the grate out of the ground, setting it aside so I could maneuver and get into the hole feet first.
It was not a very long drop, but the bottom was slick with wet, slimy moss. It consistently made my commute difficult, and more than once I had slipped and ate shit in the muddy water that moved sluggishly through the tunnel.
Once my feet hit the ground, I let go of the lip I had been holding onto, dropping into the hole fully. I was just tall enough to reach up and pull the grate back over the opening. Once it was covered, little light came into the space through the slats, leaving me in almost complete blackness with the sound of rushing water somewhere in the distance.
I fumbled around in the dark for a while, before my fingers found the wall sconce nailed into the side of the tunnel. My hands pull the torch out and light it ablaze, filling the space with its flickering golden light.
Now that I could somewhat see where I was going, I started down the tunnel, slouched in a way that made my shoulders burn, but it was that or hit my head and be covered in cobwebs and sediment. After a while of walking and trying to not slip, I come upon a narrow crevice in the wall, just big enough for someone to squeeze through. The memory of when I first found it comes back to me, a skinny little kid could get through easily, but I had grown over the years. My body stretched, pulling at my limbs until they were aching and weak. When I saw my reflection, I did not recognize myself; lanky and gaunt, spindly legs and sharpening chin. As soon as I thought it was done, I grew taller still, towering over people in the market until finally it mellowed out and my body had caught up with my maturity.
Soon enough, my gaze lingered on serving girls and women that passed me in the street. Alex teased me for the moans heard behind closed doors and the shadows that snuck away from my rooms before dawn. He blamed me for the swollen bellies of his workers, and I scoffed, it disgusted me.
I blink, and I am brought back to the passage, staring into the darkness. I often feared I would get stuck in it, and die slowly in the dark, alone. If I lingered on it, the thought would consume me, so I pressed on and shuffled towards the gap, I squeezed my way through. twisting and bending myself awkwardly, all while trying to keep from lighting my hair with the torch.
After an anxiety-inducing minute, I pushed through to the other side, now in a much more cramped tunnel; where I had to bend over almost completely, it led me on another winding path, sometimes getting steep without warning. The walls changed the further I went, this tunnel was not part of the original tunnel I had entered from, it was naturally formed until a certain point.
Notches in the wall made me think that a pickaxe had been taken to it, mined out slowly through the years by someone long before I was born, and no one knew of it but me. Steps carved into the rock led me up into a much larger space, pillars lining my path and strange markings along the walls. More sconces were nailed here, and I deposited my torch into one, lighting up a small corner of the massive room. On the floor was a bedroll, and other things I had either stolen or made by hand, this was where I resided for the last four years.
Throughout the rest of the room, tucked into little nooks and crannies were a myriad of other tunnels akin to the one I had come through. They led all over the city, some even under the castle. I did not use those, but I did have plans for them, for the time being they were covered by crates I had gotten from Alex.
I sigh and get ready to settle for another afternoon. The guards that patrolled the streets in the morning were much easier to deal with than those that patrolled during the afternoons, so I usually came down here to wait them out. I picked up a book from the ground, it was one I had borrowed. Most of the poor in the city did not know how to read, so I figured that it would not be missed too dearly. Though, as I flipped to the page that I had left off there was a sound from the darkness behind me; I did not turn, listening intently. It was shuffling. Animals wandered in all of the time, cats and stray dogs, raccoons, the occasional rodent...
This did not sound like a dog; however, it sounded like something much bigger. Suddenly alert, I snuffed out the torch and let my eyes adjust to the darkness, staring wide eyed towards the sound and crouching down, my gaze unwavering. I would not– could not look away, pulling my legs close. I force my heart to calm its thrumming beat in my bird cage chest, the sound grows quieter, before stopping abruptly after what felt like hours. I do not move, frozen.
Slowly my limbs begin to thaw, and I move to hurriedly light the torch, my hands fumbling before it sparks, and I am bathed in light once more. A breath of relief escapes me, and I stand, stumbling towards the direction the sound had come from... A tunnel, covered by crates. One that leads to the palace, but one crate is shifted slightly, leaving a small gap just big enough to peer through.
I hear my blood roaring in my ears as I shift the crate back into place and turn back, walking to my bedroll and putting the torch back on the wall. I sit down, pulling the blanket over my legs, and I stare into the darkness. Illuminated only by the flickering light that no longer warms me, its golden blaze felt as cold as death as I stared towards those crates, whispering tendrils creeping into the edges of my mind.
For the rest of the afternoon, I watch those crates, until my eyes grow weary, and I am forced to look away. Even then, the feeling of being watched overwhelms me. Chills ripple through my body, like icy hands wrapping their fingers around my very bones. The sound does not return, but every so often in the flickering torch light, I almost see the glint of an eye staring back at me.