Chapter 2
The feeling of a knife being pressed forcefully against Jonah's neck shook him out of his reverie. For what seemed like an eternity he stood still, waiting for something to happen. No such luck, both him and his assailant stood perfectly still. Fortunately, unfortunately for Jonah, nobody in the crowd seemed to notice the little standoff. Another eternity passed before finally, the robber spoke:
"Move one inch before I tell you, and I'll kill you." The voice was gruff and forceful, with a hint of.was that fear? "Now, empty your money pouch slowly, and give it to me." The robber emphasized that by pressing the knife harder against his neck.
This was Jonah's opportunity. He muttered a falsely afraid "A- Alright." before moving his hand slowly to his belt. Of course he wasn't moving toward his money, his hand reached the small cache of emergency crossbow bolts clipped to his belt. This was going to be a robber who got a taste of his own medicine. Jonah carefully palmed the bolt, meanwhile shaking his money to create the illusion of collecting it.
"Hurry up." The robber insisted, squeezing the knife even tighter. Jonah could swear he felt blood beginning to spill.
"Here you go." In a blur of motion, Jonah turned the tables on the thief by swinging his hand holding the arrow behind his back, and up to the robber's stomach. Now both people were caught in a threatening situation. It all boiled down to who would give up first.
"Now," said Jonah, "Unless you want the world to know what you had for breakfast, I'd suggest you move that knife." And surely, the knife was moved away from his neck. Jonah exhaled a brief sigh of relief before turning around to face his would-be robber, making sure to keep his bolt exactly where it was at his stomach.
Jonah fully expected to see some sort of crude, gruff looking thug, or a scrappy -looking scavenger as his assailant, not some once-rich- looking, at-one-time-refined boy! Truly this was a one of a kind robber. By his looks, Jonah guessed him to be about fifteen, maybe a little more. His clothes looked as though at one time they were the most luxurious and expensive clothes found in the empire, now they were mere rags. Even the way the boy stood, with his back straight, chin up, and eyes forward signified a refined upbringing. So why would a boy like this now be nothing more than a petty thief?
After Jonah made sure the boy was going nowhere, he slowly put the arrow back at its clip. "So who are you, son?"
The boy went into a military attention stance before replying.
"Christopher Lakeen, sir. Age: fifteen years. Height: Five feet, ten inches, son of Duke Da-."
"Shut up."
"Yes, sir"
"Now that I know who you are," Jonah began after a few seconds of assimilating the info, "I want to know what in the Emperor's name you were thinking trying to rob me." Jonah stepped closer to Christopher for emphasis.
Christopher seemed petrified with fear, so much so he didn't appear to be breathing. Not even a blink of his eyes.
"Come on, out with it. I haven't got all day, you know."
Christopher visibly relaxed before speaking. But as he did, Jonah noticed he seemed to be choosing his words extremely carefully.
"Well, sir, the truth is that I wasn't originally going to rob you. The real truth is, my.friends saw what you did to help that old man from those soldiers, and we thought you'd be a perfect addition to our group."
"So why then robbing bit?"
"I gotta make ends meet somehow."
"Well, judging from the looks of your clothes, you used to be able to." Jonah pulled out a thread that was sticking out of what was left of Christopher's shoulder pads.
"Please, sir. Do not bring that up. I don't want to explain."
"Fine. Then can you tell me who your friends are?"
"Better than tell you, I'll show you!" Christopher seemed to be expecting that, and like a flash, began to run through the crowded street, rudely pushing and shoving his way through the mobs.
"Come on!" he yelled over his shoulder whenever there was room to. Jonah merely shrugged his shoulders and ran off after the boy.
They ran through street after endless street, each one looking the same to Jonah. Along the way he was assaulted with various peddlers, shopkeepers, and beggars, each wanting a piece of his precious money. But he pressed on through them, keeping his hand firmly on his money. Christopher seemed to know these streets like the back of his hand, and he showed it by utilizing every open walkway, whether it was meant to be walked on or not. He leaped to and from the rooftops of the small shops like a small primate, a feat Jonah had to skip in favor of running along the street, trying to keep the agile boy in his sights.
Finally, after nearly a half hour of rushing through the streets of Imperial city, Christopher and Jonah stopped in front of an old and rotted building. "Here it is," said Christopher, walking to the door, "Home." When he got to the heavy wooden door, a small hatch flipped up, revealing the eyes of a guard behind it.
"Password." The guard insisted.
Christopher whispered something to the guard that Jonah couldn't hear.
"Wait."
Christopher turned to face Jonah, a broad smile on his face, "Well, here we are. You won't believe how long we've waited for someone like you to join our ranks. Oh, Jihad will surely win with you on our side!"
"JIHAD!?" Jonah exclaimed, "You mean Jihad, the extremist terrorist group that killed hundreds of innocent victims in a series senseless suicide bombings? These are your friends?"
Christopher froze when he realized he'd mentioned the name of his group. He hastily responded: "Hey, those bombs weren't senseless, you know. We're not a stupid terrorist group, you know. We're freedom fighters waiting for the opportunity to strike and free the world from the evil grip of the Empire!"
Jonah stood still for a moment, thinking of running off and reporting this kid and his maniac friends to the authorities. He was not about to join one of the most infamous groups in Imperial history, or was he?
Just like when he helped that old man from those Imperial troopers, Jonah began seeing himself joining the group, then, as the leader of Jihad, standing atop the broken remains of Imperial palace in triumph. He saw himself standing in front of an enormous crowd, shouting his name. He had an army, a people, and, most importantly, a purpose. Ever since he had been cut off from his home and forced to wander the world, Jonah had been searching for a purpose. Maybe he'd finally find one with Jihad.
After a long moment of consideration, Jonah walked next to Christopher and waited for the heavy doors to creak open.
AN: Okay, so maybe this wasn't so much a doozy as it was a snoozy. But, it serves as important step to the rest of the story.
NEXT CHAPTER: Jonah joins the group Jihad. And with him on their side, they'll begin their first steps toward their ultimate goal. And it isn't world peace and a happy tomorrow.
The feeling of a knife being pressed forcefully against Jonah's neck shook him out of his reverie. For what seemed like an eternity he stood still, waiting for something to happen. No such luck, both him and his assailant stood perfectly still. Fortunately, unfortunately for Jonah, nobody in the crowd seemed to notice the little standoff. Another eternity passed before finally, the robber spoke:
"Move one inch before I tell you, and I'll kill you." The voice was gruff and forceful, with a hint of.was that fear? "Now, empty your money pouch slowly, and give it to me." The robber emphasized that by pressing the knife harder against his neck.
This was Jonah's opportunity. He muttered a falsely afraid "A- Alright." before moving his hand slowly to his belt. Of course he wasn't moving toward his money, his hand reached the small cache of emergency crossbow bolts clipped to his belt. This was going to be a robber who got a taste of his own medicine. Jonah carefully palmed the bolt, meanwhile shaking his money to create the illusion of collecting it.
"Hurry up." The robber insisted, squeezing the knife even tighter. Jonah could swear he felt blood beginning to spill.
"Here you go." In a blur of motion, Jonah turned the tables on the thief by swinging his hand holding the arrow behind his back, and up to the robber's stomach. Now both people were caught in a threatening situation. It all boiled down to who would give up first.
"Now," said Jonah, "Unless you want the world to know what you had for breakfast, I'd suggest you move that knife." And surely, the knife was moved away from his neck. Jonah exhaled a brief sigh of relief before turning around to face his would-be robber, making sure to keep his bolt exactly where it was at his stomach.
Jonah fully expected to see some sort of crude, gruff looking thug, or a scrappy -looking scavenger as his assailant, not some once-rich- looking, at-one-time-refined boy! Truly this was a one of a kind robber. By his looks, Jonah guessed him to be about fifteen, maybe a little more. His clothes looked as though at one time they were the most luxurious and expensive clothes found in the empire, now they were mere rags. Even the way the boy stood, with his back straight, chin up, and eyes forward signified a refined upbringing. So why would a boy like this now be nothing more than a petty thief?
After Jonah made sure the boy was going nowhere, he slowly put the arrow back at its clip. "So who are you, son?"
The boy went into a military attention stance before replying.
"Christopher Lakeen, sir. Age: fifteen years. Height: Five feet, ten inches, son of Duke Da-."
"Shut up."
"Yes, sir"
"Now that I know who you are," Jonah began after a few seconds of assimilating the info, "I want to know what in the Emperor's name you were thinking trying to rob me." Jonah stepped closer to Christopher for emphasis.
Christopher seemed petrified with fear, so much so he didn't appear to be breathing. Not even a blink of his eyes.
"Come on, out with it. I haven't got all day, you know."
Christopher visibly relaxed before speaking. But as he did, Jonah noticed he seemed to be choosing his words extremely carefully.
"Well, sir, the truth is that I wasn't originally going to rob you. The real truth is, my.friends saw what you did to help that old man from those soldiers, and we thought you'd be a perfect addition to our group."
"So why then robbing bit?"
"I gotta make ends meet somehow."
"Well, judging from the looks of your clothes, you used to be able to." Jonah pulled out a thread that was sticking out of what was left of Christopher's shoulder pads.
"Please, sir. Do not bring that up. I don't want to explain."
"Fine. Then can you tell me who your friends are?"
"Better than tell you, I'll show you!" Christopher seemed to be expecting that, and like a flash, began to run through the crowded street, rudely pushing and shoving his way through the mobs.
"Come on!" he yelled over his shoulder whenever there was room to. Jonah merely shrugged his shoulders and ran off after the boy.
They ran through street after endless street, each one looking the same to Jonah. Along the way he was assaulted with various peddlers, shopkeepers, and beggars, each wanting a piece of his precious money. But he pressed on through them, keeping his hand firmly on his money. Christopher seemed to know these streets like the back of his hand, and he showed it by utilizing every open walkway, whether it was meant to be walked on or not. He leaped to and from the rooftops of the small shops like a small primate, a feat Jonah had to skip in favor of running along the street, trying to keep the agile boy in his sights.
Finally, after nearly a half hour of rushing through the streets of Imperial city, Christopher and Jonah stopped in front of an old and rotted building. "Here it is," said Christopher, walking to the door, "Home." When he got to the heavy wooden door, a small hatch flipped up, revealing the eyes of a guard behind it.
"Password." The guard insisted.
Christopher whispered something to the guard that Jonah couldn't hear.
"Wait."
Christopher turned to face Jonah, a broad smile on his face, "Well, here we are. You won't believe how long we've waited for someone like you to join our ranks. Oh, Jihad will surely win with you on our side!"
"JIHAD!?" Jonah exclaimed, "You mean Jihad, the extremist terrorist group that killed hundreds of innocent victims in a series senseless suicide bombings? These are your friends?"
Christopher froze when he realized he'd mentioned the name of his group. He hastily responded: "Hey, those bombs weren't senseless, you know. We're not a stupid terrorist group, you know. We're freedom fighters waiting for the opportunity to strike and free the world from the evil grip of the Empire!"
Jonah stood still for a moment, thinking of running off and reporting this kid and his maniac friends to the authorities. He was not about to join one of the most infamous groups in Imperial history, or was he?
Just like when he helped that old man from those Imperial troopers, Jonah began seeing himself joining the group, then, as the leader of Jihad, standing atop the broken remains of Imperial palace in triumph. He saw himself standing in front of an enormous crowd, shouting his name. He had an army, a people, and, most importantly, a purpose. Ever since he had been cut off from his home and forced to wander the world, Jonah had been searching for a purpose. Maybe he'd finally find one with Jihad.
After a long moment of consideration, Jonah walked next to Christopher and waited for the heavy doors to creak open.
AN: Okay, so maybe this wasn't so much a doozy as it was a snoozy. But, it serves as important step to the rest of the story.
NEXT CHAPTER: Jonah joins the group Jihad. And with him on their side, they'll begin their first steps toward their ultimate goal. And it isn't world peace and a happy tomorrow.
