♔ ᴋɪɴɢᴘɪɴ - ᴋᴀʟ 𝟷𝟹𝟶𝟶 ᴛʀʏᴏᴜᴛ

[sentimental]

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♚ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʀᴇʟᴜᴅᴇ
♚ ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ: sᴇɴᴛɪᴍᴇɴᴛᴀʟ_ᴀɴᴅʀᴏɪᴅ

♚ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʀᴇʟᴜᴅᴇ
♚ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴇɢɪɴɴɪɴɢ
♚ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴇɢɪɴɴɪɴɢ

♚ ᴛʜᴇ ɪɴᴛᴇʀʟᴜᴅᴇ

♚ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʀᴇsᴇɴᴛ

♚ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴜʀsᴜɪᴛ

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[sentimental]

[sentimental]

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Kalonkind was vaguely aware of magic’s presence in the world
( after all, what granted their tails that mysterious shine?), but few kals
had come into contact with the otherworldly energy, and even fewer possessed
the ability to utilize it. One of the lucky few with said ability was born into a
family heavy with turmoil and a feud that had lasted, and would continue to last,
for decades. The kit was dubbed Lucien by his mother, but his father requested the
boy to take on his surname. His parent’s union was alike that of Romeo and Juliet,
ending almost as terribly. After the discovery of their underground marriage and
her husband’s shocking end, Lucien’s mother felt the wisest method to ensuring
her kit’s survival was to send him off to a moody orphanage in northern England,
where Lucien spent most of his life. This stay helped to develop Lucien’s maturity
far beyond that of the other children- as well as his stoic personality. Lucien grew
up remarkably responsible- but not kind. Never kind. Kindness was a weakness,
easily exploited. He could care for those who benefitted him, but to sacrifice
profit for good karma was pointless in his eyes. As Lucien attended the small
schoolhouse off from his orphanage, he became immensely invested in the idea
of empires and monopolies. Billionaire CEOs had everything he had
ever wanted – control, almost complete and utter. Whilst upstanding, Lucien was
charismatic and tactful. He knew what words to say, to whom and at what time.
He was used to trouncing those elder than he, as the orphanage had an incredibly
cruel pecking order, and he was not one to stick at the bottom.

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[sentimental]

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When Lucien turned 15, small
differences could be noticed in his
daily routine that hadn’t been present
most of his life. Any warm drink
consumed seemed as if to burn him,
and the disparaging northern winters
did little but obscure his vision in the
worst of snowstorms. By 16, Lucien
had read up on (very illegal) church
texts about kalons with hellish abilities;
Kalons that possessed the powers
to play with nature's fabric and the
elements that came with it.


These kalons were deemed naught
but trouble- a sign stemming from
harsh times, warning of even harsher
to come. Lucien, while not surprised
at the views of said scripture,
cataloged them in the back of his mind.
The texts detailed on how his powers were
a bad omen, but they did not state who
the omen was for. As the years flew by,
Lucien worked multiple jobs and used
his powers to play parlor tricks for the
right people, and slowly began to
procure a base of wealth. Soon enough
he could afford a higher education,
which he quickly invested into the
fields of business and economics.


He kept his power usage to a
minimum and was discreet with the
frequency he utilized them.
He learned quickly who to smile at for
connections, and what was going
on underneath the fabric of the city
where he attained his degrees.
By age 23, Lucien was building his
own enterprises and quickly rising
as a smaller economic power. While
this business was faring well, Lucien
was forward-thinking enough to
realize he needed a trump card
to keep his rise to power smooth.


So Lucien did what few would even
consider– he invested in the black
market. As it turns out, Lucien’s
massively imposing figure did
wonders when talking to the smaller
criminals and his mastered poker
face allowed him to move around
with ease and collect allies and dealers
like a child would collect model trains.


By the time Lucien was dealing with
bosses of the underworld, he had
made massive steps towards his
childhood dream of siring an empire.
All the while, his company, which had
originally focused on textiles and wiring,
had expanded into a massive
multi-faceted corporation capable of
producing insurmountable wealth.
But Lucien wasn’t necessarily after wealth-
he wanted power. Power so he could
finally have some semblance of
control over the most uncontrollable
part of any living creature’s life- his future.
[682/800]

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[sentimental]

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Lucien loved power- and as a result, he loved his abilities.
They could be tiresome at times- breaking the icicles off his antlers every morning was an incredibly
tedious experience, but overall they granted him much more good fortune than ill tidings.
They gave him an unpredictable upper hand, which in turn gave him control.
As of the current moment, the CEO squinted at the fine print in the contract on his massive mahogany desk and glanced at the fidgeting kal before him. Glancing up from the proposal, he observed with a bored nonchalance the mannerisms of his current business partner.
“If you keep plucking your cufflinks, Mr. Harpfeild, your apparel will soon reflect your namesake,” Lucien commented before returning to peruse the final tidings of the plan before him.
“A-ah, y-yes, that wouldn’t do, would it?” the old kal, Harpfeild, replied.
Lucien chuffed out a humorless laugh, “No, it certainly would not.”
He pretended to re-read the reports a few more times. His initial feelings about to curmudgeon in front of him were correct- there were discrepancies between provided funds and projected outcomes.
Lucien sighed. Why couldn’t he just have a trouble-free afternoon?
“Mr. Harpfeild, these reports look wonderful,” Lucien calmly lied, showing no indication of his awareness of the other’s fraudulent acts. As he predicted, the aforementioned slumped in his chair in obvious relief. For being so old, the geezer lacked all representations of business-minded finesse. No wonder he resorted to cheating others for his own earnings.
“I-I’m quite flattered, Mr. Shikamoto.”
“Would you perhaps be open to dinner at this location tonight? I have a board meeting in a bit but would love to converse on these profit margins further.” Lucien continued, handing Harpfeild a business card with an address written in flowing calligraphy on the back.
Harpfeild, so elated at the prospect of duping THE Shikamoto and getting paid for it, hastily accepted the invite, not noticing the cruel glint in Lucien’s eyes.
♔♔♔
Later that evening, Lucien gracefully strided into one of his textile warehouses, tired from a long day of work and about at the end of his rope. None of his 10 men could tell, for as always, Lucien’s poker face was impeccable.
As Lucien arrived in the middle of the building, there sat a very scared looking Harpfeild, trussed to a chair like a fugitive to a pirate’s mast.
Sighing, Lucien took a seat before him.
“You know, old man, you really should think about who you’re trying to play.”
The kalon before him started whimpering into his bonds, shaking with fear.
“Ah- or maybe you did think a bit…” the imposing kalon hummed noncommittally, “‘Why don’t we play the youngest CEO on the market, no? He knows naught of fraudulent behavior’,” Lucien mocked in a sing-song voice that failed to fit the circumstance, before grinning- the smile did not reach his eyes.
“What you didn’t consider, sir,” the phrase hung in the air for a second, heavy with insult instead of the respect such an honorific would usually instill,
“… is that to rise to the top, one must discard many, many, deadweights.”
The air froze around the crime boss, his crew and the unfortunate conman. If a pin were to drop, one would be able to hear it from across the warehouse. No one dared to breathe, much less speak.

“And you, David,” Lucien purred, his voice dripping with undisguised repulsion, “.. are just that.”
It happened almost instantaneously- so fast the victim barely got out a strangled shout, much less a scream. Ice shot up from out of seemingly nowhere, incasing the now distraught David Harpfeild, his face eternally frozen mid-shriek.
“Take him out back and throw him in the bay.” Lucien growled as he knocked the ice from his antlers and removed a Dunhill
from his pocket, “I can’t stand to look at his disgusting muzzle for a second longer.”
His guards gulped and immediately went about their task, not wanting to risk their boss’s ire change it's target.
Yes, Lucien mused to himself as he made his way back to his vehicle, his "gift" really is superb.

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[sentimental]

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As the weeks passed by, Lucien took notice of multiple exposures of his rivals in local and international newspapers. Whilst not particularly concerned, the fact all his rivals seemed to be dropping like flies was … intriguing, to say the least. But Lucien Shikamoto does not like to be left in the dark for long periods of time, especially regarding his ‘riskier’ business practices.
“Carbunkle.”
“Yes, Mr. Shikamoto, sir?”
“I want you to notify Kirin that I want an investigation conducted on the perpetrator behind these exposures- I want to know their motives, location and threat levels.”
“Of course, sir, I shall notify security immediately.”
The burly guard took her leave, and headed off to find Lucien’s peckish chief of security and right hand kalon. Softly, he smiled to himself.
The pseudo god amongst men had a niggling feeling that no matter the outcome, this was to be an incredibly interesting venture.

[831/2000 words]

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