"Get out of here street rat!", I dodged the glass bottle, it's form shattering on the ground to the right of me and slicing my leg with it's shards. The insane cart-owner was still running after me, miscellaneous objects in his arms to throw at me. I would have argued with him, but there was no peacemaking with these people. Emerald eyes and nearly white skin nearly made me a leper among the regular people of the market place.

One look at me and they were shouting at me to leave. Witch. Black Magic.

I continued running until I was out of breath. The streets of Agrabah gave that little comfort, an easy escape from trouble. I fell against a wall, gulping air rapidly, and feeling faint. The cuts on my leg were stinging from the dirt that covered them. I reached down and felt the openings in my skin and the warm liquid that was pumping from them.

Using up a little more of the the dwindling energy I had, I focused on patching the skin and blood vessels close. My eyelids fluttered closed as I released the pent up energy to the wounds and I felt immediate relief from the stinging. My flesh stitched itself closed and the blood slowly dried up, leaving the leftover blood no source, almost looking like it had magically appeared. That was the gift I had that caused me such mock and scorn on the streets. I could heal almost anything.

People saw me treating wounds like mine, some even worse and life-threatening, and they immediately thought I had made deals with demons and gift and my unnatural looks led them to think that I was evil. I wasn't.

I had never even met a magic-wielder, much less a evil demon. I had been an orphan as long as I could remember, living on the streets, fending for myself, always alone.

The people who were currently walking around me were giving me scared looks, afraid to get close to me. I sneered at them, causing them to veer off, away from me. Once enough of my energy had been regained, I pushed myself off the wall I had been leaning on and started trudging back to my hide-away. Along the wall there was a apple-seller. Poor guy, he didn't even notice his missing merchandise until I was a few streets away, munching happily on the juicy fruit.

I finally reached my home, den, whatever you would call it. It was a deserted apartment, made from firm sand-bricks though falling apart. I had patched up the holes in the walls with pieces of fabric I'd found, making it seem more enclosed and less open, giving me more privacy. I was about to go in when a out-of-breath person ran into me, colliding with my side, and promptly falling back on his rear.

It was a small boy, almost the age of nine, with a dirty crop of dark hair, bronze skin and a dirt-stained face. He looked up at me with wide, scared eyes and fear plastered on his face. I rolled my eyes before turning to go into my home. A small hand appeared at my wrist.

"Wait miss, I came to ask you for help", the boy was back on his feet, his fright less pronounced, yet still apparent. I scowled down at him.

"And what makes you think I'd help you?", I ground out. It's true that I helped sometimes, but after my encounter with the insane shop-keeper, I was in a bad mood. He flinched and took his hand off me, staring down at his feet.

"Because I heard that you can heal people and I really need you to help someone I know", he said softly. And then he looked back at me and puffed out his chest, as if to show off how manly he was, except the chest he puffed out could have made up a small goat's body. I held in my laughter at his appearance.

"And who is so important that I should care?", I sneered, maliciously. He flinched again, this time falling into himself and looking back down at his feet. I felt a twinge of regret at his next words.

"My brother got into a fight and he has a cut that won't heal, it's starting to turn green. He told me to find you and that you could help him", he looked up at me pleadingly. I glared at him, though I could feel my anger dissolving. He was honestly trying to find help for his sibling, even if it meant coming to a person like me, a scary witch. He certainly was braver than I was at his age. I felt a small grin form on my face.

"Alright, I'll help him", I let, my voice soft. The boy's eyes flashed back to me, happy and grateful. He grabbed my hand in his scruffy one and started pulling me in a direction into a busy street.

"Thank you, um. . .", he trailed off, not knowing my name. I felt annoyance flicker through me, but I pushed it away. People tended to just see me, cower away, and leave me alone, not wanting to learn anything about me, even my name. I waited until we were off the people choked street before walking up to his side and leaning over into his ear.

"My name's Ferayl", I muttered to him and he nodded in acknowledgement. He smiled back at me.

"Mine's Haru", he smiled, showing off his teeth, which I took into note, were missing two front ones. I grinned back and he pulled ahead, eager to get to his sibling.

In the back of my mind I felt as if someone were watching me. Then again, I always had someone watching me, so another set of eyes shouldn't shake me much. Still, it gave me an eery feeling.

Mozenrath

Xerxes floated nearby as I walked along the roofs of the buildings of Agrabah. I was watching the girl from before walk through the crowd with the small boy. She was like a serpent among them, sliding past seamlessly, non-caring. I'd seen her do her little healing magic-trick on herself when she'd caught my attention. True it was a meager power, but it was still rare.

She and the small child went into a shanty and I felt the ripple from before. A small one, but it made a wave of magic rush through the air nonetheless. Immediately there was a cry of happiness from the small residence and she stepped back out with the small boy attached to her stomach. My mouth turned down in a frown, I hated displays of affection like that. Why would you want someone touching you for no reason? The thought disgusted me. They said their good-byes and she departed, going back to her own apartment.

I finally got a good look at her. Long, clean, onyx hair, going down to her waist in small waves, emerald eyes that surveyed the people around her with caution, and finally her body. She seemed muscular, and her smooth steps showed that she had balance and poise. However it was the pale skin that got my attention. In these regions, only magic-users like myself had color-less skin. And mine had grown even more pronounced as the gauntlet had sucked any health from me. She however had a slight tan, mostly from the over head sun.

Xerxes got my attention, "Is she magic-girl?", he asked. I chuckled darkly.

"Hardly a magic-user, though she has potential", I told him. If she could hone her ability, she could even bring back dead forms without the use of spells, those of which I had to resort to in making mamluks. My familiar watched her too, though he seemed to be more interested in her than I was. I turned away from her and started walking over to a wall where I made a small circular motion with my hand. A portal appeared to take us back to my kingdom. I had come here to spy on that street-rat Aladdin, but I'd been annoyed to learn that he was in another land. Oh well, a mission for another day. Perhaps I could get another look at that girl again even. She could be of use to me if I wanted to help her with her ability.

Xerxes curled around my shoulders as I walked through the shimmering wall and into my kingdom of the Black Sands.