Despite controlling the banks, hidden vaults, and even most of the offshore dungeons, the leprechauns were not allowed to keep any crystals for themselves. A long time ago the elves had convinced a paranoid mankind that there was the potential in the future for the innocent green guys to pull strings and yank levers plundering fortunes from underneath a backdoor they would dig into their own apparatus. It was after this concocted revelation that it was decided by a joint committee of the two races that the leprechauns would become neutral having a special status. So thereafter they became forced into a life of accounting for crystal currencies at the royal banks that the crown took over through threats.

  It had been a common thought in leprechaun circles that regardless of whether individuals wanted the life or not a good one would only come to those who did their assigned tasks. An inevitable destiny set for each since the first and only grade of their mandated schooling. A place where one got the best government job according to who the educator best favored. For every generation of leprechaun their freedoms had been lowered with careful tricks. These days most were only paid in housing, and food.

  There were some stories of little leprechaun troublemakers ungrateful with their opportunities. Instead they would rebel by running off deep in the woods with their instruments, escaping into the life of a traveling band of woodland creatures touring. It might have been a pitiful and humiliating existence having little food, but perhaps it was better to some to live free under the stars than life working around toxic currency that rotted away minds. Their only other option was crime.

  Meanwhile Mickey walked down the dirty cobble side street under a bridge entering Leprechaun town. The gold that had once flowed onto these streets back in the legendary days was long gone. It had dried well up before he was born. The pub was abandoned dark and boarded up windows, and the street lamps were busted. The drinking taps had been shut off at the watering spouts, and the restaurant was deserted. The horses would have been thirsty if they hadn't already been eaten for food.

  “Hey there Ratom my good luck charm,” said Mickey, starting to wind up his best attempt at the green salute.

  “You know me well brother dressed green for life,” said Ratom.

  He began performing a goofy green salute in his sloppy patched second hand clothes before letting his guard down with a laugh. Next he initiated the secret green handshake that had practiced since birth which finished with a simple fist bump.

  "Alright let's get to task!"

  They got off the street into the dark shadows cast by a housing complex bent in the center. Stepping into a backyard overgrown with weeds, thorns, and acorns. The path headed uphill through more uneven soil and trash, and the rusted fence buried underneath. At about half way to the top they ducked underneath a straw ceiling. Their feet squished against the muddy floor sucking them down into something that stunk. The wood door that they had both lifted slammed down behind them shut. One's thumb was injured in the blast zone.

  “Yow that hurt!" cried Mickey, his voice growing angrier without light.

  "Hold on, let me get the light," said Ratom, feeling around.

  Something knocked over that sounded like a drum full of liquid. A cow let out a moo. Finally a string was pulled and a faint light illuminated them.

  "You took us to the wrong address," Mickey spit after almost gagging from the stink.

  "Oops," the other chuckled.

  "This is a cow farm, and not our uncle's garage," said Mickey.

  "Alright chill man, hear me out, it's too important to become distracted right now," said the other adjusting his corncob.

  "Don't smoke that farcing thing in here Ratom it's already bad enough," sputtered Mickey, sounding funny due to pinching his nose closed.

  "Strange things are happening with the royal family. An internal purge rumored to be taking place with the brats killing each other again," began Ratom.

  "That's what happens when you breed like a colony of ants, I bet the Queen could fit a 40 foot boat up her coochie," laughed Mickey.

  "Yeah okay. HEY THIS IS IMPORTANT. All us leprechauns need to be sticking together like super glue. We also must eliminate our proximity to crystals as much as possible, as we have already been overexposed to their radioactive properties. You understand?” barked Ratom.

  “Look man, the crystals aren't all that bad, they provide so much power to our society that makes up for most of the bad, but you are right about some of your ideas man. I've read most of your essays,"

  "Yes sure but we need to start scheming just like the rest in order to get a better life for ourselves. Again those crystals they force on us are toxic. I know that they emit some kind of gas from within that slowly destroys the soul, eating it away slowly as the body begins to scale over. I have concrete evidence of this, and we are the ones forced to take on the burden for everyone else.” said Ratom.

  "We agree there is some kind of hidden cost at play here. A secret curse to these crystals we haven’t yet fully figured out that could be very costly. I've also heard plenty of rumors through the grapevine of other royal mishaps, and more gossip about the King dying of STDs, hehehe," laughed Mickey.

  "Aye," said Ratom, but the way he looked at the other didn't have the same confidence in him listening.

  He lifted the door open and the two stepped outside.

  "Get the light thanks,".

  They walked back down the street and stamped their shoes clean on the sidewalk.

  “What If it's a civil war we lose no matter who wins?" asked Mickey.

  "We are going to be getting out of here soon if things keep going the way they are. The whole neighborhood is already packed to move, we all feel it brewing in the air” warned Ratom.

  "Or because they were forcefully relocated without the currency to make rent anyway," said Mickey.

  They arrived beside a metal can. The dancing light crystal within beckoned with a static crackle as it slowly drained. It would take 500 years for it to fully stop, and so in the daylight hours, or when it wasn't wanted it lay shuddered.

  "Show me your wrist Mick," said Ratom, throwing his arm over the light crystal.

  Mickey joined in holding up his hands for warmth. The light shone right through to the other side of flesh exposing health secrets. He looked away as he raised an arm loosely which started up the inspection turning it over and folding the sleeve back until it was cleared. The process was repeated until one leprechaun brought down his face for closer look, alarmed.

  "Your body has already formed another small scale that makes three, brother time is running out. So stay off the streets as much as possible please if you want to still make the rainbow in the end," warned Ratom, with a wagging finger.

  "I know we've had this same kinda talk before, but thanks for the heads up," groaned Mickey, cracking his back.

  The figures cloaked in green crunched along the disintegrating sidewalks past each dwelling. The buildings in this part of the ghetto were newer and slapped together unevenly with small hands of clay forming rough apartments. A crawl hole entrance branched into each building that had no windows. Hung far above it all was a dilapidated billboard painted with a brown rainbow and featuring a massive rusted pot devoid of gold to mock them.

  "I'm just trying to look out for you, that's all," said Ratom.

  The few torches bolted to buildings flickered as the wind whistled through snuffing another out. Here dark shadows casted thick outlines on a dim background. The two reached the house on the end of the block and walked up the steps past an overgrown garden that had expired. The vines climbed in rot to the boarded top floor windows. They began knocking on the door until another leprechaun appeared.

  "What do you want?" It asked, after opening a slit.

  "We are here for the before-party," said Mickey.

  "Right, you missed it all, sorry," announced the bouncer.

  "Come on mate, all the lanterns are turned up, I can hear the voices inside and music," said Ratom, protesting with finger pointed behind the half-opened entrance.

  "Alright.. Well the truth is you two are banned from the action tonight. You see your presence offends our highest roller, and we want his gold," announced the bouncer stamping down his foot on the other side like a judge's gavel, and slammed the opening closed.

  "Alright mate, have it your way," said Mickey.

  He left back down the short path to the street, and Ratom followed. The two walked into a back alley cluttered with trash before coming to the back of the house. A burrow below with a large oak door latched up high. One jumped three times trying to open the door, his hand grazing against it once slightly. The other was running in the garden looking for something to stand himself on in order to gain entrance.

  "Smack" he collided with a gnome standing still on guard out in the garden.

  Both were knocked over and scattered like a pair of dice, one breaking the fall with a flower.

  "Who goes there?" yelled the short sighted gnome in response.

  He rang a cow bell fastened to his collar, sounding the alarm. Mickey ran back out of the garden, as dogs began to bark from somewhere in the dark night. Ratom was still jumping up with his arm outstretched as Micky burst out of a bush.

  "What are we doing apart? Common let's work as a team together and boost each other," said Mickey.

  He got down on his hands and knees on the topsoil. The gnome was running around the lawn madly ringing his bell. One leprechaun climbed onto the others back before jumping up and grabbing the latch at last. Several gnomes dashed around the bend; there was no presence to be seen. The guardian lawn ornaments continued to dumbly beat on their bells sounding the alarm. The acting neighborhood watch who slowly walked back to guard it.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  A small candle would faintly dim with metal shade inside a room of rusting gardening equipment. The floor a pool of fertilizer spilled among bottles of liquid, the bags ripped open and half filled.

  "Did you bring the heisting supplies, where's the duffel bag?" Whispered Mickey lowering the candle under metal beams that held pots full of dead soil and sticks brought in for the winter.

  The other removed a brown cloth bag from his shirt, from that a shovel, a jar of pickles and some green apples.

  Mickey nodded "time to do this the old-fashioned way I'll take the first shift," he said digging into the soft soil below.

  Ratom sat on a stack of several flowerpots turned upside down. His hands strained trying to open the jar of canned peaches, but he eventually settled for an apple to snack on.

  "Get up man, it's time to start your shift," whispered one leprechaun, shaking another.

  Mickey tossed Ratom like an old maid hitting a rug outdoors.

  "Hmmm school can wait mom," mumbled Ratom.

  "This calls for emergency measures," said Mickey, starting up the process of a wet willy.

  Ratom smacked away the wet fingers and threatened a punch.

  "What's the meaning of this.." he groaned, stretching by touching his toes.

  "Shh keep it down," Mickey whispered.

  The other grumbled something fierce climbing from his makeshift nest among the gardening supplies. The candle stub waiting for him cast a small flame onto Mickey making him look evil. Ratom yawned while cleaning his eyes of the debris they had accumulated. Next he turned to inspect the progress that had been made on the tunnel while he was dreaming.

  "You need to start setting posts down there Mickey you're damn lucky you made it so far alive to tell the tale," he scolded.

  "As I see it I'm younger and more strapping. I figured I'd do most of the digging, while you handle the fine carpentry," responded Mickey, nervously glancing away at the shadows.

  "As you see it until you're buried permanently in a collapse," shouted Ratom.

  Mickey shoved the dirty shovel into the ground, and began climbing onto bags of compost. The words seemed to go in one ear and out the other.

  "Shh I'm trying to sleep, I did my part," he hissed back, continuing to mumble after zipping himself away inside the sleeping bag.

  "Alright keep doing it your way and that's gonna double as a body bag," mumbled Ratom, crouching to enter the small tunnel.

  The cramped crawl space of the project they had been working on for several days now could only fit smaller critters like them, dwarves, or groundhogs. Ratom shrugged in defeat having given up at his latest effort to try to help his family not die off from stupidity. He pawed through the pile of dirt where he found the sack that had been buried over. He took it out and shook the fabric off of dust, before removing a hammer and nails freshly forged by the smith in Leprechaun alley that morning. Next from the bag the tunnel boards cut per their order, bundle of fresh old school candles, and free wood scraps they had thrown in.

  The candle went into his mining hat he lit with a click of flint. He nailed two boards to one board along opposite corners, then gently guided them a short distance into the tunnel, nailing some more. The process was repeated deeper into the dig until everything was secure.

  “Hum hmm hum,” hummed clapping his hands caked in stuck on soil together.

  He was heading back into the shed for fresher air, and supper. As he climbed from the hole something in the garden outside began to move. He froze in place. The floor began to shake and dust fell from the ceiling. The tools hooked to the wall bounced threatening to rain sharp points below.

  He dove out of the way as a pair of hedge clippers fell off at the end of their hook, injecting a swarm of butterflies directly into Ratom's stomach. The bass dropped as club music reverberated from the depths below. One compost bag was impaled with a dozen tools. Whatever lurked outside loudly snorted leaving the area. The snoring continued in the nest.

  The mind had to be pretty numb to enjoy any of this backbreaking work Mickey thought to himself while taking another break. He had been digging away again in the claustrophobic tunnel for a good hour after shift had turned over. The air was almost as stale as what he could register of the ancient club hits, vision poorer, and his stomach rumbling. A tightening of the chest, and gasping at the burning throat. His shovel removed scoop after scoop of soil following instructions downwards at an angle printed on the blueprints they had paid almost everything to acquire.

  Mickey journeyed it back to the miniature wheelbarrow they were borrowing. He hated wearing an air crystal mask on account of the taste, the straps, and being a quarter of his weight. It was only really used when signs indicated that he was about to die. The mask hung from the beam by the cart. He put it on for some deep breaths before he went back in without it on. Some more was dug out of the tunnel. Progress was slow, and the heat would have been unbearable if not knowing he would never work anything but a schlock tab again after this. If calculations were correct Ratom would be the one to break ground in the vault tomorrow on his third shift of digging.Then they would have all the gold they could carry.

  "Alright Ratom, it's your turn to shovel" said one leprechaun tussling the other back to action.

  "Sure enough boss" he said, going into his stretching ritual before labor.

  Mickey laid onto the overturned plant pots exhausted.

  "Sweet dreams champion" he said to himself thinking of the gold that they would soon heist come morning.

  Ratom began to cart a full load of dirt below while even lower down an underground a cavern party raged. It was a place where anything goes, and schlock was legal. The intoxicants flowed as if water in a fountain in the center while loots, fiddles, and trumpets played interlaced in the dubstep.

  “Unfortunately I have to announce that Prince Edward Longbottom will not be playing tonight with his band,” said Dick Richard, enjoying an aged schlock in the backroom through a straw installed into his knight's helmet.

  He was sitting at a loaded table with an Elf executive. The entire room was covered in crystals and bricks of gold stacked around the walls. Another Elf sat as far away in the cramped vault quarters watching the shifting through of bricks while mentally tallying every last one. The henchmen were re-stacking them onto an industrial moving cart.

  “K why did he even send a messenger.. is this just to offend me?” asked the highest Elf executive, playing with their fancy business chair also on wheels.

  The two lizard guards hissed behind to drive their point home.

  “He's looking for a certain sort of crystal, and knows you have the connections to find them,” said Dick Richard, folding his arms on the table.

  “I think I can guess which hoo ho and you will pay pretty just like your little brother” said the Eleven executive with a smile.

  “Let's make a deal, a trade of goods" said Dick.

  "I'm listening," responded the Elf.

  "We have an entire shipment of the ultra rare cracked version from the Dwarves to trade with you. I’m sure you're aware whatever process of alchemy they apply to the rock infuses them with special powers no one else can produce on the planet ” said the Knight through a protective crystal face covering his identity, however Dick Richard still had full transparency of the other side.

  “We can produce those better, and more pure with our machines and goblin labor, a lot of things you humans don’t know about because we like to keep you in the dark” said the Elf.

  “Hey look here, how about just a little deal for some of those teleports?” said Dick.

  “Farc your boss for canceling on our boss. I want the location of where the Queen stores the shlock stolen from her own people after her husband built the very factories that made it. That is all.” said the Elf, making a dismissive swift hand motion.

  Dick Richard was escorted out of the room by a lizard who dashed any plans of the knight staying for the party. He was bounced out by a remarkably long tongue attached, escorting him into an elevator heading up. The tongue snapped and with one move of the muscle the creature threw the knight out on the street with the trash. He went sailing through the air before smacking into a building, and then splashing into a bin of human sewage. His armor was ruined.

  Back at royal headquarters sparks flew into Prince Edward's focused face on the throne.

  “Scrape, scrape, scrape” went his hook sharpening on a whetstone.

  Prince Edward would be king soon once he plotted everything meticulously. He hadn’t decided what to do with his mother yet, and she hadn’t returned from where she had run. He had his own assassin who was primed to hunt, and kill the queen at his command should he feel like giving it. She would deserve it if he found definitive proof she had ordered the hit on his favorite lover. Nancy was however dead 100 percent, his most trusted scout had confirmed it yesterday morning.

  So he sat, and waited on his little network of birds focused on a single objective to find him teleportation crystals at any cost. He had been reading nonstop about the core. It made sense with his crystal addiction. Well could something so commonplace in society really be an addiction. It was so similar to breathing air, that in fact sometimes that's exactly what it was. A natural way of living better in moderation just like cannibalism.

  The door burst open and someone entered while smelling of shit.

  “King, there's elves there at the illegal fountain of schlock, but they have what we are looking for. I was able to confirm the teleportation building blocks with my very eyes” said the knight,trying to do the blue salute.

  “Very good Dick Richard I will ready the troops at once, but before I do I will again thank you for taking what I said about finding me those crystals at any cost to heart” said Edward as he pranced out.

  A fountain of schlock was just an added bonus for the palace when he got back from the honeymoon postponed to the ire of the few prostitutes that he had already eaten in the meantime. Snaggy was waiting at attention just outside in the hallway. The Jester jumped in fear as the Prince exited.

  “Deliver a first message to the army at once fool” Edward commanded.

  “Actually the army is still under your mothers name technically, but I will round you up a group of paid soldiers with swords. I will at once, sir, how many men do you desire?” asked Snaggy, bowing.

  “One hundred and fifty men and many big guns from the armory. Send them as soon as possible to the neighborhood where the crystal-less leprechauns supposedly live, the massive mansion on the end of one block you can't miss, a residence where many crimes against nature and the crown take place,” said the Prince.

  “At once your majesty” said Snaggy red saluting.

  He was diving to action, before Prince Edward stopped him with an extended hook close as a hair length.

  “Call me king,” said Edward.

  “Yes at once King Edward prince of crystal music” said Snaggy.

  “The only title of mine is king now fool! I am a man now, I can’t be bothered with the pointless arts anymore” said Edward.

  “Yes king” said Snaggy running off to give orders.

  The jester jumped off the castle wall, his arms grabbing onto a nearby tree branch as he swung to another getting closer to the ground. He would find men to give his masters orders out before noon. He sprung onto the grounds on a pile of leaves, and then sprinted forward. As his body was in motion Snaggy's mind considered all his possible contacts that could be utilized in organizing a task force for the crown on short notice.

  “It's your turn to dig again,” said one leprechaun, shaking another awake.

  “This time the charm Mickey I can feel in my bones” said Ratom getting an apple out of his sack and chomping down.

  Mickey curled himself over onto his stomach trying to relieve some of the pains from his back. He cradled it with what he could reach from his arms dreaming of all the gold. Ratom lit another small candle from his sack and put it on his head. Their tunnel had grown steps of wood leading down, down, down. There was no way anything could be buried this low. The only reason he would dig this shift is because they both had already invested so much. This project had a lot of risk to both their bodies sunk into this endeavor. The sinking feeling intensified with every dig. What if they had been scammed with a fake blueprint.

  “I'll dig all night, and then if nothing tells him it's all over in the morning,” the dust-caked leprechaun said to himself.

  As he was digging away with all his effort, the prince's new gang had formed and they rode into the Leprechaun neighborhood. Due to city regulations it was a convoy of horses, big land-birds, donkeys and mules pulling carts of big guns from the royal locker.

  “BOOOM!”

  The front of the upstairs mansion had a holes was blown to bits in an instant. Cannon, after cannon shot exploding into the residence, and flattening anything behind for good measure. Elves and their mercenaries dove for cover underground as the crowd that had gathered for the schlock froze realizing they were trapped.

  Meanwhile Ratom's foot was slipping away from him. His leg sucked into the quicksand after the floor of where he had just been digging gave out. He reached his arms out in desperate attempt to cling to something but nothing was holding in the slide.

  "Ooof," he sputtered as his head was pulled under.

  The leprechaun lay unconscious from the fall. His head had hit on a stack of gold bricks stacked in the empty room.