Fandom: Magi
Title: The bird that never sings.
Pairings: Sinbad x Judal
Rated: PG
Summary: Judal's nightly visit to a certain stupid king
Disclaimer: I own none of these characters!
THIS STORY CONTAINS MALExMALE RELATIONSHIPS. You have been warned.
There was nothing in the world that he couldn't have.
He was born gifted. Born to be worshiped. Born to be pampered and spoiled.
Told throughout his life, to command, to seize, to crush, to trample...
Whatever he had desired, it was his. The entire legion of the organization supported him on every whim, be it a fruit out of season or from a far distant land for dessert after meal all the way to entrails of a newborn babe from a random pregnant woman with a full belly...
Judal grew bored how easily everything became 'his'.
He was born as a magi, with powers beyond anyone's imaginations, a gift that the organization wanted to harness and yield... and they kept their spoiled child pampered enough to use him as they pleased.
But there was just one thing... that Judal wanted that he couldn't have.
Just one man who refused to give in when Judal said he had wanted him.
A small aggravation yet at the same time, the thrill of the challenge in the game table... it excited the young magi, born as the third magi to the world.
Or... would have been, anyway.
"Stupid king..." the man clad in black rukh murmured. He watched, leaning on one hand as he laid across a thick branch on the tree as if it was a lounge. Whatever excitement he had once held in his heart had grown cold over the years as he watched the 'stupid king' scribble away on papers as he sat on his desk. The moon had waned, tipping over to the edge in the sky as the king of Sindria tirelessly worked for his kingdom... while the magi watched him for hours, just staring at his back, bored. Judal didn't understand why he was there, just watching this boring scene night after night... but he came each night, hoping for a change, hoping that perhaps tonight something 'different' will happen.
But no. The once his most anticipated rival and a comrad-to-be-in-arms had 'mellowed,' after defeating dungeons after dungeons, he had settled down, bought a kingdom and started to rule it...
… with a pen.
Judal rolled his eyes in disgust. What was the point of defeating those dungeons, growing strong with each djinn if at the end he was going to sit on his ass all day and night?
Then he noticed that the pen had stopped scribbling... and that the king had his head down on his desk.
Quietly, Judal stood up and leaped onto the balcony with the silence of a graceful cat, followed by several streaks of bitter black rukh dancing around his light footsteps. Softly he walked inside the study room, the whimsical curtains caressing his skin as he did.
He peered over as the broad back moved along with the gentle breathing of the sleeping king. The corner of the magi's lips tweaked to one side.
"Why fight your destiny... stupid king. You and I... could have taken over the world without... all this." The magi's crimson eyes lowered to stare at the object of now the king's 'affection.' These... paperworks consumed his time now. These negotiations, meetings, plannings and contracts... they were the center of his attention. Gone were the days where the king who was just an adventurer, staring up at the magi with defying eyes as they fought.
It was fun back then, trying to conquer this man. Trying to make him 'his'.
But Judal knew he was defeated. Not by a man.
But by pieces of papers.
The man had told him that he will become king without the help of his dark rukh powers. At first Judal had scoffed and laughed. But now he was making it into reality. He really was working toward unifying the world... without him in the picture.
"What a terrifying man..." Judal's smile turned bitter. Why take such a hard road when Judal had willingly offered the world to him?
Was it a challenge? Was signing papers and contracts more fun than 'him'? Judal couldn't understand it at all, how could these boring, tedious work be more interesting... than 'him,' the magi the world craved for eons?
It was unfathomable how someone with so much ambition could not desire him, the magi that the world desired even before he was born. What did he lack that these pieces of papers did not? Wasn't he much more interesting? Wasn't he much more 'exciting' in battles? With their hearts beat as one, dancing to a dangerous tune as their swords clashed and the rukhs cried in rampant tornado...
Why?
Judal had raised each dungeon with much anticipation, watching in excitement as he defeated them, growing stronger and stronger. It was like cultivating and raising his own child, his own destiny. They were meant to be... no one else had defeated every single dungeon that Judal had thrown at them.
So why did this man still defy him?
Why wasn't 'he'... still his?
At first Judal had much anticipation for his star student. But now he was just a disappointment, sitting on his ass until he fell asleep with piles of paperworks as his bed mistress of the night.
"You could have had the world." Judal whispered as he turned.
You could have had me by your side.
But disappointment grew into bitterness and bitterness gave birth to disgust. Now Judal didn't want him anymore. His much anticipated yearning had grown black and oozed like a wound that never healed.
"If I could never have you..."
Then you are useless to me.
Only in battle would his presence ever please the magi who still sought for that excitement he had felt each time he crossed with the once impetuous adventurer without a care in the world but who also sought excitement.
Once Judal had thought they were equals. Now the man was just another old relic, a toy Judal had grown bored of.
As his favorite 'toy'... perhaps... Judal could give him a one flashy goodbye. One that would brilliantly color the sky in bloody red, so that even if he had gotten boring in the middle, his end would be fittingly exciting.
If... he could never have him...
"... then I'll destroy you."
With his back to Sinbad, the king of the newly born Sindria, Judal faded into darkness with the dark rukh fluttering around his shadows, drinking the bitterness that grew thicker. The moon once more peeked out of the clouds, shining its light where the dark magi had once stood.
And the magi never returned to perch on that tree for his nightly vigil.