Chapter 1: Prologue
Author's Note:
Time: About a year or so before the timeline of Magi.
Setting: Alternate Sindria - although this Sindria is, in most ways, very similar to canon. The most obvious changes are:
The Brotherhood. This story contains loose elements of Assassin's Creed; Ja'far is introduced as a member of the Brotherhood, which has a post in Sindria. The uniforms and the creed are pretty much the same as in the game, but the organization of the members and the way they operate is a bit different. The Templar will be mentioned later on.
Ja'far. As mentioned above, he's still an assassin, and never met Sinbad prior to this tale.
Djinn equips. There is fighting, but you won't see much of Sin's various Djinn equips... the reason for which may or not be explained in time. Magic, on the other hand, is pretty much the same as in canon.
Other Magi characters. The generals, and Sinbad, all have the same roles as in canon. However, one or two characters may show up with roles different than they had in Magi.
May 18. 6:49 PM.
Ja'far was tired.
The past three days, he had been meticulously planning his next target. Any good assassin does his background research, and Ja'far was (naturally) the best of the best. Unfortunately, this target was both higher on the totem pole than most marks and had a admittedly impressive array of bodyguards. Well-coordinated, although that wasn't about to deter Ja'far. The Kou, according to the Brotherhood, were enemies. Enemies always had weaknesses. And Ja'far's first job was to find these fatal points.
Ja'far wasn't the kind of person who engaged in a lot of talk. He prowled, and listened, and had a knack for being in the right place in the right time when it came to information. That, and he always had a few contacts who were pretty knowledgeable when it came to this sort of thing. He didn't know why they were always so talkative, especially since few other people tended to talk to him much. Gossips? Maybe, but as far as he knew they didn't mention him to others. Ja'far didn't understand people sometimes.
However, jobs had to be done fast, and little time equals little sleep. The more status, the more complicated the job - but he finally had everything planned out. Ja'far stretched slightly as he watched the crowd from his post on top of the bell tower. Gaudy thing, but people rarely looked up at it. Apparently it had been a commission from the king for... some reason or another. Ja'far never found out, but to be honest, he didn't really care aside from the fact that it was useful. Whether people didn't look as to avoid the gaudiness, or because as long as it rung on time, everything was okay... well, it was a good place to people-watch.
Ja'far sighed and ran his fingertips over the grooves in his gauntlets. The sun had almost fallen, and it would be time to move soon. Right after sunset, there was a small window of time where the guards changed, and it would be a small matter for someone as slight as him to slip through to his mark's inner chambers... who, luckily, had a weakness for wine after a long day of negotiations.
The flapping of wings drew Ja'far's attention back to the streets. A few black feathers drifted lazily to ground as a pair of crows took to the sky, obviously chased off by the young children dashing toward the plaza. The crowds of the evening were clearing off as people returned home, and Ja'far could see the faint glow of candlelight and firelight beginning to shine from a few windows. The air was still and cool - perfect, to Ja'far, who was used to the shadows and quietness. Not that the weather mattered - when it came down to the wire, petty things like the weather would not stop Ja'far.
He lifted his hand to brush a strand of white hair away for his eyes. He'd been waiting here for over an hour, internally ticking down the time until he could move under the cover of the dark. Ja'far - if anything, he was patient. He'd trained himself not just to hide visually, but emotionally. And he'd had yet to meet the person who even made a dent in his mask.
Sometimes he wonders if he ever will meet such a person, but then he always pushes the thought from his mind. He's hardly the kind of person who would prompt interest from anyone.
The faintest rim of the sun hovered over the horizon, and Ja'far stood up silently. His blood sang, faintly, as the thrill preceding the hunt swept over Ja'far. Maybe it was all he had ever been and would ever be, but Ja'far was damn good at his job, and he was ready.
As daylight faded, the slight white-haired figure turned... and was gone, fading into the shadows like a ghost.