The princess, the commoner and the sorcerer

[the sorcerer]

The sorcerer was angry. Very angry. There was only one possible person behind this, and he scowled at the thought. For now his plans were ruined. Yet, no matter, for the boy was making no progress with the princess as it was. So, instead of trying to meet the boy, who surely would find a way to hide the lamp, he remained in his room, biding his time, for his plan would need to be carefully orchestrated. Save for the few meetings he was required to be in, the sorcerer spent much of his time cooped up in his room, conspiring, for the plan asked much of him. And one night, when he felt ready, he donned a brown cloak and snuck out of the palace. It was always still at night in the villages but you could almost sense the bated breath it held, threatening to spill its rowdiness into the streets. The kingdom had much to hide, one of which was the bar the sorcerer now stood in front of, staring up at its sign with trepidation. Though he could turn back now, he blew out a low breath and shakily entered. Music blared loudly from one corner as one woman strummed a sitar and sang a tune in a seductive, husky voice. Upon a stage danced a scantily dressed woman. But these were of no concern to Balveer, as he made eye contact with the bartender, currently handing over a third shot glass to a man hunched over in despair. The sorcerer approached, an air of caution about him and leaned forward. "Might I say that these glasses are sharp as knives?" said he, looking meaningfully at the bartender. The bartender nodded and jerked their head. Taking a moment to gather himself, the sorcerer strode in what hopefully seemed purposeful towards a room, enclosed only by beads that clacked and swayed gently as he passed through them. The men inside immediately swung their heads in his direction to observe the intruder. "Gentlemen," said he, spreading his arms with a forced smile, trying not to stammer, "I have an offer to make." The foremost man glared suspiciously at the frail man before, and flashed a knife into his face.
"Who're you?" asked he gruffly, and everyone else around him drew their weapons. "And how did you come upon us?" Balveer had half a mind to turn around and leave, but he stood his ground. A flick of his fingers and the knives slipped out of the thug's hands and surrounded him pointing at them. And the sorcerer blessed the kingdom for this good fortune.
"Come now," said the sorcerer icily. "Be reasonable." The men slowly sat down, eyeing their traitorous knives warily.
And the foremost man spoke again, for he seemed to be their leader, "And what is entailed in this offer?"
The sorcerer strolled forward and grinned. "Why, I can promise you power and riches." The thugs exchanged glances, some eager, some greedy and others doubtful.
The foremost man was among those that looked less than interested and he eyed the sorcerer as he spoke. "And how might that come to be?"
The sorcerer raised an eyebrow. "Why, I plan to rule this kingdom, for I am nothing but a mere advisor. And when I rule, all of you shall be royal guards with much power. But for this to be achieved, I am in dire need of your assistance." The men in the room that had been suspicious were beginning to look interested.
"And what kind of assistance could we provide you?" asked the man, trying to keep the eagerness out of his voice, and Balveer smiled, knowing he had won.
"There has been a, ah, relic of mine that has been stolen. And I know who has done it. He must be punished and my relic returned. For I cannot rule this kingdom without it." The men looked amongst themselves and seemed to come to a silent agreement.
The leader glared at him and said, "Very well, we shall join you. However, we want half of the riches in the palace."
The knives danced and winked in the dim light as the sorcerer spoke, "I don't believe you are in a position to bargain. However...you will receive your portion for your services. One quarter." The leader seemed to struggle with himself for a moment before angrily conceding and nodding. "Good," said the sorcerer baring his teeth. "Follow me. We strike tonight." They trekked back to the palace, the men seeming vulnerable without their knives. Balveer had slipped the guards on duty a sleeping draught he had crafted, so they were able to sneak in through the servant's entrance without arousing suspicion. Slowly, they crept down the halls and turned the corner to the princess's chambers. Standing guard was the commoner by. The sorcerer turned to the men and returned their knives. "Get him." he growled. "But stay quiet." Silently, two of the men detached themselves and crept toward the boy. But he heard them and whipped his spear around, dodging their knives. They back him as he defended himself when suddenly a sickening crack was heard and the commoner boy dropped to the ground, unconscious. From around the other bend was the leader, holding a rock he had picked up on the journey there. One of the men dressed in the boy's armor and the sorcerer performed a spell to disguise his face, and turned back to the boy. Swiftly, the commoner's wrists were bound and his mouth gagged. He was thrown over the largest man's shoulder and they hurried out the way they came. The sorcerer, though leading, nervously glanced around at the knives glinting around him. He steadied himself and straightened his back, for they would not see him as anything less than fearless. By the time the commoner boy had come to, they had arrived at their destination, a cliff overlooking the merciless ocean. Balveer had taken special care in choosing the method of death, for in his anger, he wished every harm on the boy. Water had long been a great fear of the sorcerer's, and now he too feared the boy. Now the boy would be drowned in his fears. "Where am I?" cried the boy, his gag removed. "Who are you?!" The sorcerer turned to look at the boy, struggling to no avail.
"Ah, my boy." said he, careful to keep the shake out of his voice and enunciate every word. "So good of you to join us,."
The boy's voice turned ugly and his voice lowered as he growled. "You. You got me arrested."
"For good reason to. It seems you've stolen something of mine. I want it back. Where is it?" The boy looked blank. The sorcerer flushed angrily and snapped his fingers at one of the men. The next second, the commoner was dangling over the side of the cliff. "I ask of you again," Balveer hissed. "Where is it?" But the boy made no reply. The sorcerer then smiled. "It matters not. I need not your help to find it. It seems you have chosen death. Goodbye, commoner boy." The man released his hand. And the commoner boy plunged into the water!