Author's Note: O.K. First story I need criticism but try to keep it sort of nice. This is also a yaoi so if you flame or complain about it I will probably reply though I won't be mean or anything I just want to know why some people consider it wrong.
I don't own Kingdom Hearts or else Riku and Sora would have so ended up together and Axel wouldn't have died and...yea
"Stop! Thief! Thief!" bellowed the portly vendor, stumbling after the cloaked vermin at the pace of a lethargic camel. Panting, he glared angrily as the thief bounded over a cart and disappeared. The fat man growled shaking his fist in the direction of the vanished thief causing his large once-white turban to come undone due to its hasty construction.
The cloaked marauder smirked holding his prizes firmly to his chest. The obese man had been an obvious target especially with his over confidant boastings. The boy slowed his pace as he arrived at the wall surrounding the city. The exit was guarded but not very well and currently the tall tanned soldiers in charge had been drawn to the fat man's screaming at having his items stolen.
He quickly made his way over towards the stables in which horses, camels, asses, and all manner of pack animals were held. He walked over to a canvas pack which was well concealed among the feed of the animal stored there. The bag contained the rest of the spoils of the day. He placed the previously 'acquired' silks he had gotten from the fat man in the sweat stained turban though he of course he had only used the man in order to distract the guards, speaking of which he had to go.
The boy darted quickly out of the stables deftly darting between the two men coming inside. He quickly checked to make sure that the guards were still preoccupied before climbing atop one of the tents and scaling the wall easily due to carved out handholds that were masked to all but him. Upon reaching the top he glanced around taking in the restrained beauty of the scene: the sun setting behind the immense palace, the lights just beginning to flicker in the windows of the darkening city, the gentle, repetitive sound of the gypsy's drums beginning to play, near their caravan just outside the city walls upon which he rested. He smiled softly as he climbed down the outer side of the wall jumping down in order to bypass the last few feet. The hood on his cape slid back revealing his silver hair which resembled rippling water in the bright moonlight.
He started, quickly pulling up his hood. Luckily not many ventured out into the dessert surrounding the city. The gypsies seemed the only exception though; they traveled in caravans which enabled them to retain water in the needed quantities unlike what single riders on camels were able to carry.
The dessert was magical in the way that it could be harsh and deadly then erupt into an oasis so breathtakingly beautiful few could escape seeing them in mirages caused by the blistering heat. The dessert contained many secrets as well, from hidden treasures forgotten and buried by the shifting sands to battles scenes of skinless corpses, mouths frozen open in silent cries of victory and screams of death.
The wall protected the great city from the deadly sandstorms though there was rarely anyplace where the dessert grit did not fester, especially in the poorer sections of the city.
Riku though aware of this information did not care as he walked along the outer wall he sensed no danger and saw no ominous clouds in the distance, which would have for told of a deadly storm. The dessert was unpredictable but a rather large storm had recently subsided so while not all slept soundly many did not worry of a repeat any time soon. He suddenly stopped and looked at seemingly uninteresting section of wall. It was made of the same grey-green stone as the rest and looked just as worn though in reality it would stand tall for another millennia if the conditions proved amiable.
Suddenly, the cloaked thief placed his hand right hand into one of the holes which while seemingly caused by the weather had been strategically carved in order to keep scorpions and other dessert vermin from subsiding there and making a nasty surprise for any who wanted to use the hidden entrance. The hidden door swung forth begrudgingly as though it did not want to reveal its secrets.
The cloaked teen then shot inside and allowed the door to slam behind him, seeming to be annoyed that anyone dared open it. He fumbled around in his pack of spoils looking for an object that he had actually purchased that day: a small handheld lantern which he now lit. The lantern cast a faint, sickly yellow glow, upon the area in which he now stood. The room was of no consequence seeing as it was only about six foot by seven foot with a ceiling so low that the teen almost bumped his head when he attempted to stretch to his full height. The object of the muslin cloaked teen was the seemingly ancient step which seemed to have been repaired in some places recently as the wood looked to be newer and of a different kind then originally used. The teen stepped over a wire that if tripped would have cause the top area of the steps to collapse and proceeded down.
The downward trek into the dark depths took only a few moments but when you can't see barely three feet around you or the bottom of the stairwell it feels like ages. The boy tensed at every creak in the ancient stairs imagining himself falling into the endless black pit beneath him. Finally he reached the bottom which was lined with by thick mud walls and short sloping ceiling of cloth holding up the immensity of the large dessert aided by support beams and patched in several large areas with differently colored fabrics.
The underground hall twisted, turned, and forked at several places but the boy kept on following some invisible line. It seemed as if he was treading through his home rather than a dimly lit hallway beneath a dessert city.
Suddenly he heard voices. "Ah Allah take you Axel, give that back before I break both your legs and leave you for dessert jackals!" screamed a slightly feminine yet undoubtedly masculine voice. The silverette raised a sculpted brow upon entering the bright room squinting as his eyes adjusted. The occupants of said room numbered about eleven. Each was engaged in their own separate activity or watching the fight progressing between an abnormally tall, fiery redhead and a short obviously annoyed blonde-spiky haired boy who was currently balling his fists continuing to yell at his taller companion. "It was really hard to steal that you idiot" cried the annoyed blonde jumping up trying to get at the glittering object in the redheads hands. Yet being held back by a thin yet strong hand being laced upon his head. Suddenly the boy ducked down and swiped his leg down behind the taller boy's ankles immediately causing him to trip and, in his surprise, relinquishes his hold upon the golden statue of a women that he had been heralding above the smaller boys head. The blonde haired boy caught the statue before it hit the ground and stuck his tongue out at the now confused redhead lying on his back.
The silver haired boy laughed causing all occupants to look in his direction. The redhead's face brightened considerably. "Hey Riku. Bring me something pretty? I've been needing new daggers." Riku rolled his eyes looking down at the boy who had just addressed him. "I wasn't planning on giving you anything, Riku said looking away uninterested, but if you give me those…chakrams did you call them Axel? I might be willing to give you something." Riku smirked at the frown on the taller boy's face. The redhead, Axel, got up off the floor and dusted himself off. "No can do" He glanced over his shoulder at Riku and rubbing his sore ass which he had just landed on. Now where's Roxas he thought spying the spiky haired boy who tripped him trying to pick the lock on a large chest that he had brought in earlier that day.
Riku shook his head as Axel pounced on the poor, unsuspecting, blonde; laughing as Roxas blushed like a cherry due to something which had been whispered in his ear. The other occupants in the room were splayed out among the haphazardly strewn couches cushions, and chairs all covered and surrounded by muslins, silks, and brocades, ranging form vibrant purples and golden yellows to tawny browns and off whites. Each of the now twelve people in the room were either exiled, wanted for some sort of crime, or just in general trouble for existing. Their merry band was without a name for the moment and each individual involved would take a bullet for the other even if at times they seemed to despise each and every living person near them.