Sinbad walked down the dark, cold hallway in the palace. She took her right hand and passed it across the wall as she walked slowly, the white fabric of her clothes weighing her down. She opened her door only to find a lump wrapped up in her purple sheets. Did he stay up waiting for me…? Sin disrobed, dragging the cloth over her head and neatly folding it all onto the sturdy, hand-carved wooden chair at her desk. She climbed into bed next to Ja'far's sleeping form, looking at his back. She laid there for a while; simply enjoy the sheer amount of silence and time she had to dwell within her own thoughts. She couldn't think what in the world she had done to deserve everything and everyone- she was beyond blessed with love from her people and the generals. Slowly she shifted her weight closer to him, draping her arm over his calmly beating body, her head against his back and her other hand playing with his soft, silky white hair. Eventually, she drifted off to sleep.
Flashes of blood, images of her father being beaten and dragged and her sickly mother flew by in a flurry. She saw her own child form pass by- hardly a flicker- but a memory she had long forgotten.
"Wh-why?" little Sinbad cried out, no one there to hear her for her mother was long asleep. Her sobs went unanswered, her pleas for her father to come back escaped into the night never to be heard. She cried herself to sleep that night, and so many nights after…
Another memory surfaced, one of her grieving for her lost mother.
Sinbad had just gotten back from conquering the dungeon. Yet when she returned, everything was gone. The only person left in the world that truly mattered. Her mother was dead. Sinbad broke down, sliding to the floor sobbing. She couldn't handle it. She clutched her own clothes, crying into her shirt. It wasn't happening- both her parents were alive and she had never conquered that irrelevant dungeon. She futilely hoped, sobbing wretchedly on the floor for the next few hours, the truth sinking in.
This time, it wasn't a memory that struck her. It was a pure, solid, horrifying nightmare.
Ja'far, pale as the moon, was in her lap. "It's alright, everything will be alright, just hang on," she said, mostly to herself. Tiny waterfalls were forming and leaving such an impression on her heart. Life wasn't worth living anymore- not for the generals, not for her people. Neither gave her the strength nor hope. A broken doll, she stood. Sinbad took Ja'far's weapon and plunged it deep into her own heart, waiting to join him in the afterlife.
"…S-Sin?"
"Sinbad!" he shook the twisting queen awake, practically shouting her name. "What's wrong?" She couldn't speak, her emotions stuck thoroughly in her throat. Sin clutched onto him for dear life, muttering incomprehensibly.
"D…don't leave me…"