SEVEN YEARS PRIOR to On The Horizon

(Yamuraiha and Sharrkan and the rest all look relatively young in Magi Canon when they met Sinbad but I bumped the ages to make it realistic. We can't have a bunch of ten year olds working on a pirate ship!)


Sharrkan considered himself a smart man, most of the time. He didn't pretend to be skilled at numbers like Ja'far or navigate like Hinahoho. However, he could shoot a pistol and swing a sword, which was good enough for him.

"I finished cleaning the cannons," he said, trying in vain to wipe the stains off his fingertips. It seems he was always covered in marks these days, bruises from failed fights or gunpowder smudges down his forearms.

"You can take a break; Ja'far wanted to see you before nightfall but you have some time to kill until then." Drakon didn't look up from his careful inspection of the weaponry, frowning at a particular gun that had managed to snag. Sharrkan didn't know much about Drakon, mostly because he didn't offer it, but he did know he had to be some kind of army man, the way he acted. The young boy didn't care enough to pry, knowing all too well about wanting to keep past lives hidden, in this day and age. Pirates didn't care where you came from, only where you were going.

It's why he'd decided to take up with Sinbad, at any rate.

It's not that his life was bad; it was more that his family hated him. A group of snobbish nobility turned impoverished, they clung to their old glory days like starving men whereas Sharrkan pushed forward, seeking out his own fortune. Because of this, he was shunned.

"Masrur! Do you know why Ja'far wants to see me?"

The red-head looked up, frowning. "Why would I know?"

"Don't be a brat," Sharrkan growled, clocking the taller boy in the ear. Despite still being merely 13, Masrur was built like a bull and just as stubborn when he wanted to be, impassive and unwavering.

It drove Sharrkan mad.

"He's with Sinbad right now." The information wasn't surprising. Ja'far had known the man longer than any of them had; in fact, Sharrkan couldn't even imagine a time where they hadn't been side by side, bickering and shouting about orders. They kept this ship running; Ja'far as competent a quartermaster as Sharrkan considered himself a swordsman. "But he told me to get you in an hour if you were still…loitering around deck."

Sharrkan was sure Masrur didn't know what the word meant but didn't argue (mostly because he didn't know either).

Sharrkan continued his way through the ship, ducking down as shipmates pulled ropes taunt, setting the sails east. Traveling to Maori, a large nation surrounded by rocks and low-reef barriers, was no easy feat. Most pirates avoided the entire area simply because it was too much of a pain; a warring nation with little agriculture and arid land. Just the setting was enough to put Hinahoho on edge, glued to the wheel instead of just letting the ship be pulled with the wind.

"Sharrkan! You're going to see Ja'far, right? Tell him we'll be in port by sunrise." How did everyone know Ja'far wanted to see him? The thought made him anxious; had he done something wrong? Were they planning on leaving him behind once they reached land? Sharrkan couldn't remember doing anything too bad…recently.

"Alright," he called back, weakly, before retreating below deck to find Ja'far's quarters. Best to get it over with, he reasoned, but his feet pulled him past the man's room and into the main barracks.

I'm a coward, he cursed, yanking off his boots and sending them clattering into the corner. There was no chance Sinbad was just going to leave him in some foreign, war-torn land; he had pledged his life to his captain and crew. He was a loyal comrade! Sinbad would at least have the decency to leave him back in Phisto, if they were giving him up.

Which they weren't.

A clatter of shoes broke his attention and he stood up from his hammock, frowning. Was someone else down here? Sinbad didn't take people skimping out on their duties lightly, despite his easy-going personality. It took dozens of people to mast a ship of this size and even one person missing could skew the boat off-course.

"Hey! Where are you supposed to be? You're going to get—"

Sharrkan liked to think he was unflappable but in that moment, watching a crewmate half-dressed and wrapping bandages around a rather…large pair of breasts, he was sure he was gaping like a fish. She shrieked, throwing her boot in his direction, clocking him in the chest. He fell back in his surprise, still out of it, watching as she scrambled to put her shirt back on. Bandages still hung off her chest, only half-tightened.

"If you tell anyone I'll kill you!"

Sharrkan tried to collect his bearings and summed up all the gusto he could, puffing out his chest.

"Of course I have to tell," he crossed his arms, glaring in her direction.
"A ship ain't no place for a woman. You're bad luck."

"We've been fine so far!"

"Wait a minute," Sharrkan hissed, walking up at her. "Just how long have you been here?" She grabbed his hand and pushed down, hard, her thumb digging into the joint. He yowled, pushing the woman away, cursing.

"None of your business," she snapped. "But I've done good work and I'm useful. Didn't Ja'far want to see you anyway?"

"Why does everyone know about that?!" Sharrkan didn't have time for this. "Look, we'll go to Ja'far. He's a fair guy; the crew will come to a vote on where to drop you off."

"And if they want to keep me?"

"Doubtful. What's your name? I don't remember seeing you around the ship." She shuffled uncomfortably, finally heaving a long sigh and sitting down on the floor. Now that she wasn't trying to rip his limbs off, he could see her face, bright and pretty under the ruddy stains of dirt on her skin. Her hair was blue, odd enough in itself but even odder in a girl who was so obviously higher class. She was dressed like an orphan but she placed her hands neatly onto her lap and stared up at him.

Sharrkan hated nobility.

"Yamuraiha," she sighed. "I boarded ship in Coffs." That meant she could be from anywhere; Coffs was a breeding ground for immigrants and was an enormous port city. It was also The Sindrian's hometown and refuge, the entire place was secretly financed and run by Sinbad's men.

"Six months ago?"

"I work with the sails," she said, bristling. "I don't really see much of people and try to avoid it, for obvious reasons." But still, the idea shocked Sharrkan. They had had a woman living under their feet, sleeping in the same quarters, for six months and none of them had noticed? He had to tell Sinbad; he'd be in a major trouble if he didn't tell Sinbad.

"I'm sorry, I really am," he said, grabbing her wrist and pulling her up. "But they'll have my hide for keeping something like this from them."

She glared at him, resting her fingers against the hilt of her dagger.

"You're gonna have to drag me kicking and screaming."

***
And he did, surprisingly well considering the girl had a mean right swing, all the way down to the quartermaster's office. The door was a gnarly thing, embedded with different sheaths of wood and a large tacky doorknob (courtesy of Sinbad, of course).

"I can't go back home," she said, griping his arm. She'd been babbling the entire way, the boat rocking violently under them, words tinged with desperation. Each one made Sharrkan falter in his steps, frowning, but he carried on. If his superiors found out and knew he'd kept it a secret from them, he could be thrown off the crew. Returning home wasn't an option; they didn't want him anymore anyway.

"Ja'far?"

"Come inside." He pushed open the door to find Ja'far and Sinbad stretched out over maps, frowning. At the sight of the two teenagers, Sinbad schooled his expression into something more amicable, but Sharrkan knew better. There was bad news, bad enough that Sinbad was down here instead of above deck, enjoying the good weather and having a drink.

"Ah, Sharrkan," Ja'far said, rolling up the parchment and sliding it back into the drawer. The motion was fluid, calm, unassuming. He cursed the lot of them and turned his attention back to Yamuraiha. "I've been waiting for you."

"Before you tell me anything," he shouted, wincing at the own high-pitch of his voice, and gently nudged the girl forward. "She was stowed away, working with Hinahoho."

She bared her teeth and stepped away from him, dropping to her knees and pressing her head against the floor.

"Please let me stay on the ship. I'm a good worker and I'll be useful! No one can handle the oceans better than I can."
Sinbad watched, concerned, before turning to Sharrkan. The turn of his mouth didn't look good. Sharrkan felt himself hoping they'd let her stay; the way she pleaded reminded him painfully of the stints he pulled to convince Sinbad to let him board.

"You found her?"

"I…I did. I didn't want to get in trouble," he stammered, shrinking under Sinbad's glance. It wasn't disapproving but it wasn't proud, which was a punishment in itself. "I couldn't keep it from you!"

"I'm not angry with you," Sinbad reassured, sighing. He turned his head in Ja'far's direction. "So?"

"Well, I already knew she was a girl," he sniffed, looking unimpressed. Yamu shot up in surprise, keeping her eyes trained on Ja'far, clasping her hands together. "It wasn't obvious but I've been trained to catch cues. I'm much more concerned about where you come from, certainly not a Coffs orphan."

Sharrkan stayed rooted in place. Ja'far knew? Of course he did, he reasoned, it would be a cold day in Davy Jone's Locker the day anything slid past their quartermaster. His surprise quickly turned into outrage; didn't this man know how dangerous it was to keep a woman on board? Coming from a family of merchants meant he'd heard constant streams of wives tales, sunken ships and ghost sailors, ravaged by rocks and wind and sea because of superstitions.

"I…," she looked away, sinking back to sit on the ground. Sinbad glanced briefly at Ja'far before crouching down in front of her.

"You don't have to tell us anything," Sinbad said, taking her hand. "But I hope you have enough trust to share your story with me, should you chose to become one of my shipmates. If you are running, no one here has been sent to hurt you." His eyes slid over to Sharrkan, raising his eyebrows. "Isn't that right?"

"Right," he said, too quickly. He turned to the older girl, dressed in a pool of men's clothing, and stuck out his hand to help her up. "My name is Sharrkan."

"So you come from Leira," Ja'far said, spreading his hands out over the table. "And to be clear, you are on the run."

She fidgeted, sliding back into her chair. Ja'far's office was a conference room on good days, a large round table filled with old parchment and maps stacked on top of each other taking over the room. She let her eyes flit across the surface before speaking.

"As you probably know, Leira just had an uprising. The royal family was corrupt and a rebel group took over. It was fine at first; a coup et tat doesn't sound like a bad idea when you're suffering. But…they slaughtered them. Tortured and murdered the royal family and killed everyone, down to the last child and maid. The dog."

Sharrkan was about to be sick. Ja'far and Sinbad seemed unsurprised, merely frowning, and he wondered if he had the stomach to stick around. If Sinbad can handle it, so can I. He set his jaw and continued to watch her.

"I supported their ideals but I couldn't commend their methods. So I escaped. Dressed up like a boy, it's easier to travel that way, and made it to Coffs. Where I found you all. I was at the bar Captain attended—" she cut herself off to watch Ja'far send a glare in Sinbad's direction, which the Captain dutifully ignored—"and…I guess you just inspired me. So I joined the ship."

"But then why are you all…fancy? Who would care to chase after some nobody rebel girl?" Sharrkan almost regretted speaking up with the reprimanding look Sinbad sent him.

"My father is the head of the resistance," she said, all stiff limbs and clenched teeth. "He's not a bad person but…he believes his actions are justified. He has suffered and because of that, he's lost touch with reality. I don't think he'll come looking for me now, but who knows when or why or how."

"So you've come to us in hopes of starting over," Sinbad finally spoke, adjusting his plumed hat. "And you'll receive it. Welcome to my crew Yamuraiha. I hope to see you prove yourself on the sails," he said, smiling. She grinned, shooting up to stand at the balls of her feet and bow.

"Yes! Thank you! I won't let you down!"

"Sharrkan will make sure everyone is well-adjusted to the idea, isn't that right?" Before he could stammer an affirmation, Ja'far let out a little noise of surprise and dug through the drawers, pulling out a slim box full of paper.

"I almost forgot; here."

"Ah, what is it?"

"Drakon mentioned the gunpowder was doing a number on your hands so I got you this back at port," he said and Sharrkan carefully unwrapped it to reveal smooth leather gloves, stitched with the Coffs insignia and tanned black. Sharrkan felt the tips of his ears go red.

"Thank you."

"Of course; now escort Yamuraiha to dinner, it should be starting soon."

"Um, right!" He took her hand clumsily and slipped out, still reeling from too much information. In Phina, he'd never concerned himself with the affairs of other countries, much too preoccupied by his own. On the ship it was worse, Ja'far and Sinbad always seemed to know what was happening but he was kept in the dark on any matters pertaining to the outsides of whatever port they were visiting next (he was sure this was his own fault, considering he'd never expressed any interest in politics).

However, before he could make his way out of the barracks, the low sound of Sinbad sighing made him stall. Yamu stared up at him in confusion before he squeezed her hand twice, lifting a finger to his mouth. If the two didn't want to tell him what was going on; he'd have to eavesdrop.

"So you think we made the right decision? Keeping her on board?"

"I'm not suspertitious," Ja'far shrugged, picking at the wires under his long-sleeves. "And there's something she's not telling us, I'm curious to know what it is." Yamu stiffened beside her but he didn't spare her a glance.

"Something dangerous?"

"Something useful. We need all the help we can get."

"How long do you think we have?" Nothing followed Sinbad's question, only the sound of unfurled parchment disturbing their tense silence.

"By what you've told me, maybe a few hours. He seems unpredictable and he's what—six?"

"Ten. And angry."

"You say you've done nothing to anger him?"

"Besides deny my support for his actions and try my best to sway his attentions?"

"You've never been good at avoiding danger," Ja'far sighed and Sharrkan heard the creaks of wood as Sinbad settled behind his quartermaster. Through the crack of the door he watched Sinbad slip off the black hat from Ja'far's head, running calloused fingers through his white locks.

"We're going to lose a lot of people," Ja'far whispered, closing his eyes against the ministrations. "We shouldn't have come to Maori."

"I didn't know he was coming. I would've disbanded them in Coffs if I knew. Gotten you all to safety; the boy only has a bone to pick with me."

"You all? Is if you could tear me from this ship."

"I'd do it if it meant keeping you safe," the captain frowned at the soft rustle of laughter that came from Ja'far. Sharrkan almost felt guilty, watching that seemed like an intimate moment despite the fact they were hardly touching, but stayed rooted in place. The gloves burned in his pocket.

"Judal hates me as much as he does you nowadays, the boy is capricious and you were an idiot to indulge him in the first place. Besides, you know the crew wouldn't leave your side, even in the face of that crazy child."

"My crew is made of children."

"You insult them," Ja'far sniffed, pushing him away. "If you think their loyalty is any less valuable just because they were born into this world late."

"It is not their value I'm concerned about!"

"We'll weather through it, somehow. But I will stay by your side." He closed his eyes and Sharrkan watched Sinbad's frown deepen at the sight. In that moment, Sharrkan realized he didn't know his superior well at all, despite years of sleeping in the same quarters, despite growing up together.

He felt like a fool but worse, he felt like a child.


Hope you enjoyed it! More exploration of how the generals started coming together + an introduction to how Judal plays a role in this AU!

sweet trade: being a pirate