The palace of Jafar, the highly regarded chancellor to the Falconer clan, in the land of gold and fire, was demolished. There was very little to even tell that there had once been a castle standing where now a pile of sand stood. The tracker picked up a small bit of sand and ground it in their fingers. Wind Jackals. The tracker knew not to stay long, and by instinct wheeled its horse about and prepared to return west to the clan of falconers on the coast of the Black Sea. As the tracker made ready to give the command to go forward, the tracker felt something. It was strange and familiar to the tracker but had never been felt this far out in the desert.
Dark magic.
The tracker's eyes narrowed just above the face guard to protect itself from the sand, and wheeled the horse south and headed towards the pulse of the power. Though the tracker wasn't good with the dark arts, it was best to inspect and report to a higher authority in the end. And this pulse was no Wind Jackal.
"Forward, Allegra," the tracker commanded its horse who went at a steady pace due south in the darkness and by sun up after having not seen a soul ran into a palace with gold dome-tops, and alabaster walls. The tracker looked over its map; Agrabah. This was a bit west of where it wanted to be—they must have mis-stepped sometime in the night when the tracker wasn't paying attention.
Frowning, the tracker entered the town to give its horse a rest, and stock up lightly on supplies. They would head east from Agrabah in a few hours time. As they entered the stables, a man, the stable keeper came forward clearly meaning to greet the unexpected guest.
"Good day . . ." the keep paused unaware o the sexual orientation of the rider. The tracker pulled the veil from its face and it was clear now that the rider was female, and the keeper, smiled kindly, "ma'am. Would you require assistance from getting off your horse?"
"No, no that won't be necessary," the woman answered, and slid off Allegra without a flaw.
"What brings you to Agrabah?"
"I was tracking some various people in the desert. My horse needs rest, and we are low on supplies."
"Ah, the town has some good stalls where gold is accepted as it always is widely."
"'Gold'?" she repeated with question.
"Of course," then the keeper noticed that the rider had removed its riding cloak, and veil. The rider's arms were exposed and bore strange markings that were unfamiliar in the seven deserts. "Where are you from, good lady?"
"I am from the village, the clan of the Falconers, from the west. Is there anyone here who will do trade?"
"No. We are all gold people."
The woman frowned, and looked about her belongings in a knapsack, and looked at the keeper. "I do not have any gold."
"If you sell me that mare, I will give you five hundred gold which would see you for a while."
"I cannot sell Allegra."
"Look I will triple the amount if you throw in the saddle."
The woman knew that to survive very long here or to get the proper supplies required for their journey, she and her friend would have to part for a short while. She stroked the mare's head gently and whispered in its ear in an unrecognizable language that she would return soon, and that they would leave this place. The horse whinnied a reply of disgrace, but the rider knew that the horse understood.
The keeper handed her fifteen hundred in gold, and the rider began to leave when the keeper suddenly asked, "Wait, what is your name?"
"Hannah Du'Boius,"
"A pleasure to meet you Lady Hannah, may our city suit you well."
"I am sure it will," and she left the stables and wandered about the streets, and started with food. She figured she was a good ten leagues from her destination, a good day's travel. She gathered hardy fruit, and began to pay the market vendor when a little red bird perched onto her shoulder.
"So lady would you be so kind as to part with a fruit or two? The monkey and I are starving."
Hannah glanced at the bird on her shoulder, and handed the vendor ten gold, and handed two pears to the bird.
"So kind," he stuck his tongue out at the vendor. "Thank you lady," the bird left.
"Don't be so generous, if he comes back," the vendor remarked.
"Why?" she glanced over her shoulder as the bird flew off.
"They get full pampering from the palace, and that bird's monkey sidekick is starting to master the art of pick-pocketing."
Hannah's hand shot down to her pouch, and she discovered, that indeed her gold was gone with the exception of what was in her hand, not much more than forty gold pieces. "What hospitality your community has," she remarked.
"Actually we are pretty relaxed society. But they and the street rat Aladdin are very good at the ratting. Too bad Jasmine chose him as a husband."
"Who is Jasmine?"
Then she noticed that the vendor now recognized that she was new to the area, "Jasmine is the princess of Agrabah. She is very hard-headed but do not tell her I said that, okay?"
"Of course." she stashed her gold in a more secure ouch, and the fruit in the former coin pouch, "thank you kindly."
"The pleasure is mine."
She continued up the street studying the stalls but now focusing on a weaponry man or a blacksmith to sharpen her knives with what change she had left.
She found what she was looking for near the barracks and paid the man with forty pieces of gold to sharpen her weapons. The man seemed more than willing, and then a young man with the same red bird and a little monkey on his shoulders came in, looking for a blade."
"Can't help you yet, Al; I have a customer here who has paid me finely to sharpen her weapons."
"Fine, I shall wait."
Hannah's eyes locked with the bird, who started to quiver with the clear sense that he was about to be caught. Then the man broke the stare.
"Hi. Are you the weapon customer ahead of me?"
"'Lady'," she corrected him, "Hannah Du'Boius of the west,"
"The west? We are of the west. Agrabah is the west. Where exactly are you from?"
"The Black Sea,"
"You are a long way from home. What are you here for?"
"Supplies,"
"I can see that," the young man remarked. "What are you coming back from?"
"An errand," she answered her guard suddenly up.
"Oh. I am Aladdin, the prince of Agrabah. I need to get a blade for Jazzy. She needs to be better trained in sword fighting. I am sure, a noble lady such as you understands. Have you found things you like here in town?"
This was her chance to really make that bird shuffle feathers, "Mostly food really. I am headed east. I need to examine some land. My father, king of the Falconers can tell you all about it if you come and visit our clan."
"Clans have kings?"
Her brow shot up, "Well, it's not like we have parrots who do our bidding or to steal goods from strangers."
He looked confused, but continued. "There's not a lot of good in the east. You may find that you like it better to stay here than go out there."
"I prefer to make my own judgements. Maybe I will get some of my gold back when I come back"
"I beg your pardon?"
"I ran into a thief in town," her gaze shot at the bird, her voice cold.
Aladdin stiffened, the bird piped up then, "Look there was so much gold we thought-," then he caught himself but by now too late.
"You thought what, Iago?" Aladdin snapped.
"Well, I . . . um, oh hell, forget it."
"Look here parrot," snapped Hannah unexpectedly; "If you dare try to pick pocket me again, I will use you as the main course in my next meal." she glanced at the monkey who cowered behind Aladdin.
"Take better care of your pets," she stopped herself then, as the blacksmith handed her the blades she had had cleaned, sheathed her knives, and left the shop. The residents in the shop watched the strangely inked person leave and she knew that she had stirred up enough trouble to leave the city at night fall would be a wise move. For the time she would hide out in the shadows and watch society, fetch her coat and head out at nightfall.
When it was dark, she walked to the edge of the city walls and took up the shape of a falcon and flew east. She had to discover what had occurred in the land earlier last night by Black Magic. She guessed she'd make it there by mid-day the next day but the map was blank where she had measured out the source of the magic to be.
She stretched out her arms wide, as a dull light brightened about her, and she began to change shape. Feathers grew out of her skin, and talons at her feet. She shrak in size, but she was strong enough to carry her things with her feet for the time. Without looking to see if anyone had seen her, she leapt into the air and took off, leaving the alabaster city behind. Her peregrine falcon wings glided against the cool night sky, and she was pleased with the lack of people in the desert. She liked the silence. But she was missing home nonetheless. It was pretty warm here, in compare to the mountains that she was well adapted to.
Home doesn't exist anymore. Her heart panged at her. You escaped by a hairball.
Hannah raised and lowered her wings again, this time sure to clear her mind of the tragic loss of her village. She knew by instinctive magic that it was all gone. The village was crumbling even after she had abandoned the city. She felt another pulse of dark magic hit her, and she banked to the left and back to the right when it cleared. She looked ahead and saw nothing, but 'nothing' wasn't going to stop her. Not now. She had come out here, and was still a noble lady to some people, and invisible to others. She wanted to be nothing more than simply invisible to these desert people, but that seemed like a less than likely situation as she reflected on how she approached some of the conversations.
In another part of the desert, in the land of the black sand, a mamluk looked down at a book in the laboratory where he had been summoned. Its green skin clung to him like cobwebs, and despite having lost its humanity, it didn't stop the mamluk from having an opinion; he hated being green. Its master, Mozenrath was pacing in the lab. The mamluk had been the master before. The boy had grown faster than he could have calculated. It now quietly plotted to cheat the mamluk curse and destroy the whelp before it could do more damage than he already had. When Mozenrath was dispersed of, then Destaine would rule the seven deserts—Destaine the master and not the mamluk. His former ally and enemy Jafar was dead, and now nothing would hold him back from taking down all the kingdoms. Every time Mozenrath turned away in another stride Destaine flipped a page and scanned it for his answer.
"Xerxies!" shouted Mozenrath.
Destaines former pet flew into the lab and to his new master. "Yes, master?"
"I told you to find me the wand of Galbereth."
"Too hard to find, master."
"Nothing is too hard to find if you look hard enough! Now go!"
Destaine watched quietly and turned another page. Mozenrath breezed by the mamluk, and sat at his desk his eyes ablaze over the various items he wanted to collect to make his magic ultimate. There was so much that the boy was missing. If only his mother had taught him a thing or two about humanity.
Then again, Xerxies had clung to Mozenrath when he was a boy, as if he was a pure soul; called him master then, and obeyed everything he had said. It wouldn't take much though these days to make Xerxies turn against Mozenrath.
Xerxies returned then carrying a silver stick in his teeth, "Found it mafter," he tried to say master but it was a hopeless cause without dropping the wand to the floor.
"Good!" remarked Mozenrath, and snatched the wand from Xerxies, and placed it in a glass box.
Destaine turned a page, and his inhuman brow rose when the page came up with what he had been discreetly searching for, for the last two weeks. He swiftly pulled the page out and shoved it into his ragged tunic. Mozenrath turned around slightly startled by the noise but saw nothing when he looked at the mamluk.
"Ah, Destaine, I forgot you were there. You may go." and with a dismissive hand waved the mamluk away.
Just you wait, boy. He mused, My vengeance is coming.
Hannah landed at daybreak, a few hours ahead of schedule, and saw that the sand grew dark and not just from the lack of sun. The sand itself was black—a rarity. She looked at her map. There was nothing on her map. She frowned and stashed the map away, and with little hesitation entered the land of the black sand as the burning sun began to rise.
By midday, she hadn't shrugged her wool cloak away, and took a note of it. It was slightly cold here where the sand turned black. Up ahead she saw a small village with it's capital on top of a hill, and she chose to rest there for the next few hours, and possibly continue east by nightfall.
As she entered the city, the gates closed automatically behind her, and she knew something was wrong instantly. She whirled around her knives drawn. She loved her magic but she liked the physical attributes of hand to hand combat better. Creatures shot up from the sand and she ran for the shadows just in time as they looked about themselves, shrugged, and marched out in separate directions, clearly looking for the intruder. The creatures had sunken in skin, and a deathly blue green hue to their looks. It was a horrid sight to see. In her world the things were called zombis or zombies. She never paid much attention to the dark magic. Now she wished she did.
Then she really noticed the city. The buildings were severely damaged, and walls had crumbled on some of them. There was a deathly hue about these buildings that gave Hannah a frightful chill, and then she took note of the "street lights". Tall root-like structures with barbs stood a good ten feet high, and bared large blue crystals on them. The one closest to her was flashing brilliantly; the others were not alight at all.
This is bad, she thought. Her mind reeled now on the concept of getting out of her present location without getting caught. She shifted form. Her feathers extended out from her skin, its fuzzy barbs tickled her skin and she stretched her arms out wide. Her body became the falcon from within. In a graceful leap up she began her ascension to the air.
Her sharp eyes were strong but it missed something that came up from behind her, and sank its sharp teeth into her leg. She shrieked, her falcon voice faltered, and she shifted in an instant into her human form and collapsed to the ground below her, a good ten feet away.
She landed with a sharp thud into the sand, and looked down to see a long eel like creature clinging to her leg. She kicked it away fiercely with her unwounded foot and bounded to her feet, daggers at hand, as the mamluks came back at her their Arabic swords drawn. She immediately dismembered the two, and then whirled as she felt the presence of another coming up behind her. But as she turned, there was a sudden flash of blue light, and a man appeared before her. She didn't have time to react, as he pointed at her with his right hand, and she was frozen in a blue flame.
"Well, well, well, what have we here?" the man mused coldly. He had dark nearly black eyes, and pale skin. She briefly thought it was a blood sucker from her homeland, but she knew better than to think vampires existed in the Arabian Desert, and the thought was removed from her mind. She watched as he came closer, the blue stream of flame between them receded back into his brown leather glove smoothly, and he reached out and plucked a feather from her neck where her former hadn't quite recovered from the sudden change in form, "A shape shifter?" his brow rose, the mamluks turned away, and he looked at his eel companion, who was rubbing it's face with it's fins. "Well done Xerxies. Let's escort our unknown guest to its rightful chamber in the dungeon. We shall draw out an inquisition there—and then maybe we shall steal it's power."
"Yes, yes yes!" jeered the eel in a cackling voice, and with a turnabout with this cloak the pale man teleported them away.
She was instantly chained to shackles when they had reached the dungeon. She struggled with her strength, but hey didn't give. She then willed it to release her with her magic, which recoiled unto itself, and she cried out.
"So, you're a shape shifter with magical gifts." His brow rose with a clear sign of being impressed. "Now you have my attention. Who are you and what are you doing in my kingdom?"
Her head snapped up to her captor, but she didn't speak. He shot a bolt of blue flame at her, missing barely as she craned her head to the left. Her eyes did a quick analysis of the man, who seemed to be not a lot older than she, who was twenty three. A thin man with a possibility of long black hair hidden though by a mage style turban, and despite the lack of serious weight loss, seemed relatively healthy nonetheless.
"Name!" he shouted, his glove threatening to shoot another bolt.
"Hannah Du'Boius, heiress to the throne of the Falconer clan of the Black Sea. I am on a mission from my people to find the chancellor Jafar, high advisor to Agrabah, and ruler of the land of fire and gold."
"Jafar has been dead for the last three years. Who sent you? Agrabah—that street rat and his pompous princess? Trust me shape-shifter, it's best to not cross me," he grimaced, but she felt that he was searching her with his psyche, but he was turning up cold with her full mental guard up.
She lowered her guard, and spat at the floor before his feet but missing her tool belt and supply bag, and stated boldly, "Search my mind. You will find that I speak the truth."
He seemed flustered at forst to have someone so willing to open their thoughts to him, but then took the advantage. There was a long silence between the two of them, and the eel Xerxies, was starting to fall into confusion as he watched his master for any sign of a response. Finally, her captor pulled away from her mind, focus returning to his eyes.
"Fine you have stated the truth, and I also know that you are in search of the dark magic from the night before last—my magic. There is no one else out here beyond the black sand" He observed with a cold tone that Hannah knew she couldn't match, "So, let me answer your curiosity, and then you must answer my questions."
"Fine," Hannah snapped, but now she peaked in another curiosity as she watched her captor carefully. "But who are you is initially what I want to know first, rather than what kind of magic occurred the other night."
His brow rose again, "You really aren't from Agrabah are you?"
"No." her brow rose with distaste; even after searching her mind he still didn't believe her.
"Well, then. I am Mozenrath, lord of the black sand." He dismissively continued, "Now, as for the other night, I had uncovered the secrets to the art of manipulating the sand—create decoys, and teleporte to other dimensions. Such a skill gives me a better uses for my mamluks, and my Xerxies here." he paused, gesturing to the eel, "I think that fills you in on my secrets. Now, shape shifter, it's my turn to learn some things about you."
"Have at it. I have nothing to hide—not anymore."
He lifted from the floor before him her tool belt, and carefully sifted through her pouches. His eyes carefully examined each item with an observant eye. He pulled out a red crystal cube then and looked at it with some confusion. "What is this?"
"It's nothing of your concern. It was for Jafar, but he doesn't exist so I will be returning it to my father when I return home."
"If you return; seems to me that your village . . . clan is under civil war with itself." H paused, "Even if it is, I am sure your father is not."
She stiffened, remembering that her father was under threat of destruction when she left. Then hate reached her core as she looked at this man, Mozenrath.
"He still lives!" but deep down she knew he was right.
"Sure," he shrugged his eye back on the cube, "So, be honest; what is this?"
"It's the Cube of Isis."
He eyed it carefully, but then returned it to her bags, and dropped the belt to the floor. Picked up the supply bag sifted through it carefully and handed it to Xerxies, "Send it to the kitchen; supper is afoot the hour."
When the eel vanished down the corridor, and as they watched him leave, a sharp spark of pain hit Hannah with a jarring sensation, and she looked down at her leg, sensing a poison had begun to actually take an effect on her system. Blood had leaked to the floor of the dungeon, and at the sound of Hannah's wincing he looked down at her and noticed the blood near her foot.
There was something then in his expression that caught her interest as she forced herself to regain sense of her expressions-a sign of pity? He moved forward carefully, and knelt in front of her, and examined his eel's bite markings first with his eyes only then carefully picked it up and pulled her boot off to get a better look. Sure enough fangs penetrated her flesh and blood had begun to pool inside the boot, as well as leak out.
"I should mend this. Xerxies's fangs can carry lethal dosages of poison on certain days, none on others. It's been getting more common over the last few years." He placed his gloved hand over the wound and there was a strange sensation that rose from the glove. Warmth knitted her wound, sealing the skin and removing the poison. She watched with more shock, rather than admiration, as he moved back, and leaned up against the opposite wall with an earlier expression on his face.
"So tell me about your magic,"
"Why?"
"I love magic. I'd like to harness it when I can and use it for my own purposes though. One day I want to rule all seven deserts. Having the shape-shifting power of a foreign origin may be what I need."
"My power has limits."
"So? Mine does also. It doesn't mean I cannot try to make mine limitless by taking everyone else's." there was arrogance in his voice as if he wanted to prove something to her.
"My power permits me to fly. I can see long distances, and I can learn things with exceptional speed."
"And?" he asked clearly hoping that there was something more than just simple tricks under her skin that she hadn't said yet.
"Well, that's just the hereditary skills,"
"'Hereditary'? As in genetic?" he was shocked. This was at least a good sign to Hannah at least.
"Yes." she answered the thin pale man's question.
"How interesting." he mused.
"Think it's possible to unchain me?"
He looked up at her face then, and she caught a strained look upon his face. Did he really want to trust her? She waited watching as he pushed up from the wall, glanced down the hall where Xerxies had left and turned back to Hannah. He snapped his fingers and she collapsed to the dungeon floor.
"Actually, I would like to continue this conversation in the throne. It is a bit . . . more comfortable, though I have no guest seats since I rarely entertain. Would that suit you?"
She froze; was he serious? He seemed to bear full intentions of stealing her magic and using it for his own and he was suddenly being nice? What was the catch? She knew she should say 'no' but she felt a strange attraction to this strange lord despite the earlier remarks. "Sure,"
With the wave of his cape that whirled around them, they were in a not so glamorous throne with a fine high backed chair, and tapestries that were older, and slightly faded despite the lack of sunlight. As she let her eyes wander, she heard from the high backed chair the following, "So tell me more about your power,"
Mozenrath listened with a keen interest in her power and the clan's history. He watched her as she was listening to herself speak, and fully aware of what she was saying, but her eyes-green eyes grazed the throne thoroughly. He examined his new captive, careful not to miss a word that this prisoner was saying—he still desired the power. Hannah Du'Boius was young, maybe not much younger than he, and dressed like a ranger, with a toned frame, a unique physique Arabic woman didn't possess—at least from the few women he had met. The shape shifting amazed him, but the primal spells she had been taught to defend, heal, and rescue others with was intriguing. He watched as her eyes finally stopped scanning the room, and her slender fingers move a lock of silver hair back into the mix of solid back. He noticed the long hair then, a full head of black with the exceptions of two silver streaks that lined the sides of her head just above the ears.
Despite the harshness of the things, the young shape-shifter looked relatively unscarred by the times of outcry she seemed to have been taught to defend against. There was a hint of strange markings under the collar of her coat, and he was about to inquire, when Xerxies streamlined into the throne.
"Dinner awaits us, master."
"Of course,"
"Why is she here, master? Why not in the dungeon?"
"Good conversations do not take place in a dungeon, Xerxies. You should know that."
Xerxies looked at him with some confusion.
"You did inform the mamluk in the kitchen that there were going to be three of us at the table tonight right?"
Xerxies's face drew up a blank stare and slight confusion. "What?"
"The captive Lady Du'Boius, will be joining us tonight. I am keen to listen to her clan's history further."
"The prisoner? Master?" he was clearly ready to protest full of distinct confusion and a hint of anger.
"Go! Ensure a third seat in the dining hall." his voice rose slightly.
Xerxies, unexcited with this information whirled on a dime and left the room, a dark glare was shot at the undecided guest by his eel eyes and in a flash he was gone.
"Forgive him; he hasn't had any training in the art of proper mannerisms." Mozenrath gestured to the empty air where Xerxies had been.
She didn't say anything for a moment then looked him dead in the eye which was a rarity, "So am I a prisoner or an uninvited guest?"
He grinned slightly despite his desperate attempt to hide it, "I would say unexpected guest—a welcome one nonetheless. Maybe tomorrow, a proper tour of the city should be arranged."
She stiffened, "I should like to return to my people as soon as I can, my lord."
He nodded slightly, then rose from his throne handed her the thoroughly searched tool belt, and graciously offered his left arm to the heiress, who he already knew by his power of foresight that her clan was already gone. This rare magic would need to be harnessed before he informed her of the truth, or perhaps he would show her though the crystal in the lab that bared the power of foresight. She took his arm hesitantly and they left the throne for the dining hall.
A few days passed where he watched the young warrior princess study the details of his city. He was thorough and kind, but he had already assumed in his mind to make her a mamluk one he had stolen her power. Not that he wanted to be a shape-shifter but it would give him more stealth over that street rat should their paths crossed again.
Xerxies had vanished with rage at the notion of the prisoner being treated more kindly, and hid amongst the remains of Destaine the mamluk. The creature had stowed itself away in a secret chamber near the lab where it was preparing to cast a spell. Xerxies wasn't familiar with the spell Destaine was following, but it watched closely, and decided to keep this little act by the mamluk his secret against his master for treating the prisoner as if it was something worth sticking in the treasure room.
Destaine had started changing though. He was starting to look more like his old self. The greenness of his skin was fading, and his features were filling out. He hadn't gained the ability to speak, but it was soon to happen, as his old dark hair began to grow back, and his eyes were becoming sharper.
Xerxies decided then that when the time came, he would side with Destaine, unless the prisoner was gone.
Mozenrath had been kind, but she felt her inner restlessness stir within, and she felt her needs begin to rise from within telling her it was time to return to her clan. But this thin, lean man had her unacknowledged interests peaked. He was charming, despite his crude humor, and dark magic. Even the mamluks didn't raise their blades at her when she went about the kingdom on her own. She had started to notice that Xerxies had become scarce, but she didn't worry about the creature since he had already hated her.
"Mi'lord,"
"Will you please stop addressing me with that title? I have asked you to call me by name."
"Why do you keep me here?" she forced her stare to focus on the setting sun.
He glanced at her, and then looked out to the sun as it set. "I have been debating whether or not to drain you of your power or have you taught me in what you know. I am strained to do as I have always done, Lady Du'Boius, but I cannot do it and I do not know why."
She turned this time to face him trying to read his expression, but it was obvious that he was telling her the truth. "Take it from me?"
"I told you from the beginning; I collect magic. What you have is nothing that I already got stashed away."
She frowned at him then and walked back into the building. She knew he was watching her, and despite her hidden secret wishes that he just might possibly like her, she knew that this greed within him was stronger than any other emotion known to mankind, and she wondered about his childhood.
What a poor soul he must have been as a kid!
But after tonight, she was going to prepare to go home.
The darkness had set in, and Mozenrath had eaten alone that night in his study. It was clear that Hannah Du'Boius had his agenda figured out. But then again, something wasn't quite right about the whole thing, and he needed help understanding what it was that he was feeling. He retreated to his mother's former chambers and began to sift through her belongings. It was something that had always helped him understand the natural laws of human emotions. He finally settled into reading the diary of his mother that was created the year before his birth.
The pages held little meaning to him as he uncovered new spells that she had learned, and new tricks she had been taught from her master. Then the pages changed in attitude; there was a man in his mother's life. It stirred curious emotions from her, and she succumbed to the idea of giving herself to this mysterious man. She had an entry sometime later in the pages that wrote that she was carrying a child, and her master exiled her from his study and initially informed her that so long as she was with child she couldn't learn magic for it would damage her precious cargo. She had in turn begun to learn dark magic from Mozenrath's mysterious father figure, and then the pages went blank a day or so before the actually time of his birth.
He frowned, "Why did I come here?"
There was a chill in the air then, "My son, it's been a while since you visited my rooms,"
He froze.
"What are you looking for?"
"Answers," he muttered dully, disbelieving in the idea that his mother's mysterious soul might actually give him an answer.
"Romance?"
"I don't know," the question froze his train of thought and he looked about the room trying to find what it was that brought him here, and what little good this conversation was doing for him.
"I believe you came here looking for an answer as to what to do with this guest of yours. You clearly admire her, but your need for power has clouded your judgment. You need to focus on more than the magic."
"I have no reason to need anything beyond magic."
"You've been so deep in magic that it has nearly killed you. It's time to learn about love, my son. Trust me,"
"But, I don't know how!" he snapped back to the thin air.
"It will come to you." the room then lost it's stiff atmospheric grip on him then, and Mozenrath left the room, still unclear about what it was exactly he was supposed to have learned or even a reason for why he had come to the chambers even, but a faint idea rang in the back of his mind.
As he came down the hallway and corridors he saw a dim light in the wall. His castle had a few flaws, but there was rarely a light coming from that particular room. He moved closer to the light, and looked though the crack in the wall to discover that this was the bedchamber that had been provided for the lady Du'Boius. He started to turn away when he noticed the ritualistic movements she was making. She had removed most of her clothing, and he now could see clearly the dark inking on her body that moved with her as her body moved in a practice recognized in the east as tai-chi. Clearly she had been well trained in world's various practices, but she didn't move out of view despite the sheer fact that he knew that she was well aware of his presence at the crack in the wall.
Then he felt it; her power. It seeped out of the room with such divine brightness that Mozenrath felt the deep greed within him reach out for it for his own. It trembled at first then embraced his grasp, and entered his system. He was still watching her and noticed when he had tapped into the magic she had faltered slightly, but continued.
His mind began to scream at him that this wasn't something he should continue to watch and steal from, but he couldn't help himself, as the tattooed princess gracefully pulled the strength of the world around her. The magic within the room was potent, and finally the intoxication of what she was doing forced him to release the power, and though he was granted little it was clear that she was more powerful than he had anticipated. His strides were wide as he feared that he might enter the chamber without a clear reason of why he would do such a thing and do something he might regret in the morning.
The next morning she entered the dining hall in her more clothing than she had on the night before, but not a lot since her tattoos were exposed. She seemed more at home in his kingdom today than she had been since arrival, and sat next to him examining the small platters of fruits, and varieties.
"Is everything alright?" he asked with some surprise.
"Of course." she flashed a grin, "I am becoming more accustomed to the weather here, and my body wants to breathe."
He nodded unsure of if he actually understood, but he watched her with a patient gaze as she picked up a fruit from one of the platters.
"You know, I was thinking that I should be returning to my homeland. I have overstayed my time here, and it's clear that I am boring you. Especially since you got a fair dose of my power last night,"
"Boring me?"
"I am not finished." She cut him off, "I came out here to the deserts for a purpose, and this was not the reason. Not only did I not find the chancellor, I lost my horse, and half my gold for it. It's time I go and try to save what peace my family once had, and whatever people are left."
Mozenrath froze. He remembered that her people were in turmoil, and that he was holding her up-this hesitation inside was not what he had planned for when he encountered the shape-shifter.
"What?" she asked clearly seeing that he had his emotions unguarded, and it was showing something that deep inside pained him.
"It's just . . . will you stay one more day? There is something you need to see before you make that long journey."
"I have seen this place from the inside out. There isn't anything here that I haven't already seen once."
"Trust me. What you need to see will be worth your time."
"Fine." she took a bite from her breakfast, and the rest of their consumption of their meal was in silence.
Then without a word spoken he led her to his lab. From there he unveiled what in magical properties was much like a crystal ball, but it looked much like a standard crystal formation of tall spikes, and it awoke to his touch.
"I want you to touch this crystal and mentally ask it to show you your home now," he instructed her, his hand moving away from the crystal.
She looked at him in confusion, but did as she was told. The crystal burst with life, showing them traveling from the city with great speed over dunes of desert plains and into the snow and the mountains. For a ways there was nothing, then just as the sea came into view, they saw the remains of a charred village. The high stone walls had crumbled, and highland homes were in ruin. Corpses littered the ground, and smoke rose from a chieftain fort the eyes of the crystal were being guided within the fort. Mozenrath knew that she shouldn't look there but held his tongue as she panned the visuals into the crumbling building, and saw another body, This one had been clearly skinned, and all that really remained was charred flesh and bones. She twitched then with shock, as her eyes looked over the body and freezing when a burnt cross flashed near the corpse's hand. She suddenly ripped her hand away and cried out, her hands slammed into her chest as she dropped to her knees and tears streaked down her face. The crystal's power didn't leave sight of the corpse since it hadn't been silenced yet.
"Father! No!" she sobbed now in an agony he hadn't seen for quite sometime. He didn't really know what to do with this sort of pain, but to create a handkerchief from thin air and hand it to the princess, the last of her kind. She took it tenderly, and started to try and force the tears back, but was clearly unsuccessful. He turned away, covered the crystal whose light went out, and then helped Hannah to her feet and out of the lab. He took her then to some place he hadn't expected their foot steps to lead; her chamber, he had been hoping for something more.
Like what?
She pulled out of his hold and tried to hand him back the handkerchief.
"Keep it," he spoke carefully watching her expressions waiver.
She looked at the handkerchief, and dabbed her eyes then and closed the door behind her as she entered her borrowed chambers. Clearly she needed space.
He stared blankly at the door, and evaluated carefully what had just happened. He had shown her the truth of what really was going on at her old village, and it turned out that there was nothing. She would now have to face the question of what to do or where to go. She would probably leave that night, and he'd be alone.
Somehow, this thought bothered him, despite how comfortable he had been here without her when Xerxies had been enough.
With a small gesture of his hands he created a rose, something he had never really had tried to make due to how boring the concept was, but the rose was produced none the less perfectly. He knelt down and left it at the foot of the door, then without another thought, left.
Xerxies oversaw the final stages of the transformation take place, as Destaine cut away the stitches that held his lips shut and drank down the potion he had been making without the attention of Mozenrath to stop him. There was a black smoke that rose from his feet then, as he was consumed by this fog and Xerxies backed away towards the door. The smoke started to clear after a few minutes, and before Xerxies stood a tall man with thick dark hair and a small beard that was well groomed, and sharp black eyes. Xerxies felt that the best move now was to bow to his new master.
"Master,"
"Xerxies. Not a word to anyone about what has happened here tonight," his voice was deep and nearly as venomous as Xerxies's bite. "I must gather my power slowly over the next two days, and then on the third, I shall make my move—at dawn. Is that clear?"
"Yes, master,"
"Now go find me some better clothes than these rags."
That night Hannah's dreams were vivid, a memory of the night she had been sent away by her father, Clan chief Du'Boius.
"Go Hannah, please there isn't much time."
"But where?" she asked as he started to shove her out the back door.
"Take Allegra and go east. Find the chancellor Jafar and beg for his council. Present him with the Cube of Isis if you must. You know how to use it. Please, Hannah, my child. If the rebellion finds you, they will kill you. I would rather lose you to the desert than to the rebels."
"Father,"
"Hannah, there is no time." he cut her off, and closed the door behind him.
She turned back and slammed her hand open palm against the door. "Father! Please let me in! Come with me!"
"Hannah if I come," he shouted, "then they will hunt us to the farthest corners of the earth. Now GO!"
She turned away, frustrated, tear struck and afraid and ran for the stables.
Allegra was already saddled and ready for Hannah. She leaped onto the horse and rode quickly out of the village, and east of the Black Sea. The question of getting through the mountain passes this late in the winter didn't cross her mind until she had already made it through and was crossing through to the desert.
Then the dream became morbid.
It was as if she was still within reach of the kingdom and she could hear her father scream as the rebels—the rebels in her mind were vampire converts now, skinned him. The sound of the skin pealing away and she felt like retching. She was still on her horse, but she was still in earshot in this dream to not be far enough away. She could hear his screams die then and in a final attempt, he screamed, "Save yourself Hannah!"
Hannah screamed awake from her nightmare and looked about her in the darkness. No one was here. She was completely alone in this room, and no one was peaking in from the hole in the wall. It gave her some comfort, but it also made her feel vulnerable, something she did not prefer too like.
Mozenrath didn't see Hannah Du'Boius for a few days following that event that had occurred with crystals, and was sure that she had left until one night when he was headed to his chambers; he caught sight of her leaning up against his door. She looked a little better emotionally but she still looked a bit lost and haunted. He was about to speak, when she spoke up first.
"I am confused, my lord, what it is that makes you keep me here. My gifts? Torment? The lack of good company?" she paused and he was ready to speak when she continued, "The fact Xerxies has seemed to have completely vanished? Or is there some other reason, other than the standards that I have missed?" her fingers twirled the rose when she poke the last option.
Mozenrath's eyes grazed her frame then and some animal inside him began to awake that he hadn't ever knew existed. He moved close to her, and looked her dead on in the eye.
"Well, what do you think?"
She held his gaze with a dark hidden look that he couldn't define. "I think it's a toss up." she tipped the rose so that the head of the flower would brush along his cheek and graze its way to his chin.
The animal started to stir more now, and it forced him to close the gap between the two of them and in an instant their lips met. From there the contact pulsed, strengthening in passion, until his hand opened the door, and shut it behind him. The pride that had long held him to prefer magic over all else had been silenced. At least for tonight, all he wanted was their powers to merge and bind them as one, as his deep human emotions rose desiring to sleep with this beautiful foreigner.
Suddenly these thoughts vanished, as his turban headdress slipped away, and she began a gentle tug at his gauntlet. This leather glove that was on his hand covered one of his devastating flaws thanks to his desire for the magic. He started to pull back, but she had the upper hand at the moment, and the glove slid away easily. His cursed, skeletal hand was exposed, and she examined it carefully, despite his obvious hesitance and low comfort level. She didn't look disgusted or even afraid as her fingers danced over its curves, and down the arm to the slightly decayed skin at the elbow, and back up to the hand. His observation of her fearlessness was proven when she led this functional skeleton hand to her own cheek and leaned pulling his face back to hers with the other hand. His fear was suddenly mute, as this time their eyes closed, their passion restarted this time without pause, or question landing on his bed of furs, and down feather mattresses.
"I love you, Hannah Du'Boius,"
She smiled boldly, and pressed for another kiss, "I love you, my lord, Mozenrath,"
He wouldn't remember anything from what exactly occurred that night, but knew in the morning, when he awoke to her nude form curled up against him that he had experienced and found love. He lay there for a long moment, his eyes focused on his skeletal arm, at first with admiration, then with pride then a hint of despair. This shape-shifter was a part of him, and his imperfections were a flaw in his eyes, but not for her. He would have to try and do something about that sometime. He let his imperfect hand stroke her back and she moaned unconsciously with pleasure, then she spoke, and he knew he had woken her.
"That feels wonderful,"
She rolled then and smiled warmly at him, her curves threatening to slip out from under the covers if she moved any further.
"You are wonderful," he answered back, though he knew the phrase was cheap.
She leaned over despite the covers and kissed him. "Good morning,"
"Indeed, a good morning." Their lips met for a brief moment.
"What shall we do today?" she asked with a thick sound of romance.
"I'd much love to just stay here with you," he answered innocently.
She chucked deeply, softly, and then kissed him again, "I am sure we could arrange for that."
He could feel himself become aroused again when a knock came from the door.
"What is it?"
"Master, let me in!" Xerxies called in.
Mozenrath frowned looking at the door, and sighed, "Hang on," He slid out of bed searching the floor for his clothing, when he turned and noticed something different about Hannah. Her back was no longer bare. He didn't recall when he had noticed this empty part of her skin, but now her back had a new set of markings; his coat of arms was etched into her skin in a near tribal manner, much like it was on the doors. He decided not to mention it, sure that she was well aware of it.
Once they were both dressed, they went forward and opened the door a crack.
"What is it Xerxies?" he was about to ask something more sure that if it was an average day he might have ignored Xerxies and maybe slept in, but since Xerxies had been scarce, this had to important. At least it was until he saw the wickedness in its face.
"Xerxies, what . . . ?"
"Master, Mozenrath is not anymore," he suddenly chuckled in a hissing sound, and drew away from the door as a hand took a firm hold on the door and forced it open wider.
Mozenrath paled whiter than his natural skin color was supposed to as the man in front of him registered inside in the back of his thoughts.
"Destaine . . . ? But how . . . ?"
A burst of magic slammed him against the far wall, as Hannah took her avian form and retreated to a high beam in the darker corner of the room.
The man entered then, "Mozenrath, after all I have done for you. That was how you repay me? I raised you like a son!"
"Destaine, you weren't a father!" he snapped.
"You took my power. And now I take it back!" He shot out with one hand and made a closed fist that retracted back to him, and suddenly a flash of pain rocked Mozenrath, as he felt the power he had once stolen return to it's rightful owner, as well as his own. He cried out, and his eyes squeezed shut. He could sense that Destaine hadn't detected Hannah's magic within him, what little he had, but for Mozenrath now, it was useless, and powerless for him. He heard a shriek come from Hannah and his eyes shot up for a bleak second to where he could see Xerxies chase the falcon around the ceiling. He wanted to call out and order the eel to leave Hannah be, but the pain inflicted against him was deep, and then he saw Destaine come forward then, and take the gauntlet, from his hand and slip it on his own.
"Now, Mozenrath, you will be escorted by myself and Xerxies to the dungeon where we shall decide your fate.
The power from the gauntlet obeyed Destaine, and Mozenrath was levitated up and guided out the door.
"Xerxies! Stop playing around and follow!"
He heard Xerxies make a final attempt to catch Hannah securely, but forced a sigh of frustration, and soon follow. He could see that Xerxies did have blood on his teeth, and prayed silently that he wasn't poisonous today.
Hannah waited until they left, and dropped to the bed shifting back to her human form. She felt the warmth of the mattress where they had just been, and it caused a small lump to grow in her throat.
"Mozenrath," escaped her lips in a whisper of muted despair.
Sitting here won't help you or him today, A voice remarked in her head.
She looked around dumbfounded.
"Who's there?"
Someone who loves her son very much, the voice responded.
Hannah stood up looking around wildly, "How did you reach my mind?"
I believe the answer came from last night's love mingling.
Hannah didn't respond for a minute, then thought of a good question to ask the thin air.
"What is your name?"
Margerite, now if you hurry to the dungeons, you will find him exactly where he had chained you the first night you were here.
The air in the room suddenly vanished and she knew that Mozenrath's mother had left her to deal with the future of her son to Hannah. Hannah knew she had to act quickly. She examined her arm where Xerxies had actually made contact with her. He had certainly almost had her down, but she had still been able to tear away from him, but he had been venomous today, for the skin around the open wound was starting to decay already. She frowned, and grabbing a sash from his closet bound the wound and retreated for an unoccupied room to wait out until night fall.
Now her thoughts traveled back reviewing everything that had happened since she had arrived here, and she knew that she had to get Mozenrath out of here, if Destaine couldn't be defeated. She skirted her way down the corridors and through the hallways searching. Her thoughts kept going back to the previous night, and their passion. She had never felt anything like that before, and had become aware of the new insignia that had set itself into her back—his insignia. His coat of arms was on her, and she had no one else to run to if she left him here to die.
These thoughts danced her mind as well as questions about his past, and Destaine daunted her focus, until she heard footsteps and she melted herself against the wall. She watched as a silhouette of a man stride with pride down the hall, followed closely by the eel. She felt her hate rise, but she waited until they had passed her and then she made a run for it. She was going to run for the dungeon and then get him out. She could hear his pained cries as she guessed; Destaine had set a mamluk out to torture his former captor. It was going to be a difficult task, but she had to risk it. She made a right and nearly slammed into a young woman. She was accompanied by others. She could count six. Hannah could sense the royal nobility in her blood, and guessed by the type of company this woman kept that she was the princess Jasmine of Agrabah. She noticed also that the boy stiffened at the sight of her, as well as the bird-Iago, she recalled the name used at the market. It had been so long ago it felt like now.
"Who are you?" snapped Jasmine more from shock than aggression.
Hannah decided that she didn't have to answer that question and started to push her way through them but get stopped short by a large creature. She was able to identify it clearly it as a tiger, but felt little threat. She could fly if attacked-she was always faster by air. She decided to take heed from the use of the orange fur ball as a sign to answer the princess's questions.
"I am Hannah Du'Boius, the soul surviving member of the Falconer clan to the west near the Black Sea."
"What are you doing here then?"
"I was on an important mission when I got held up."
"Lady Du'Boius, permit me to tell you now that you are holding up a princess and her trusted army, and if you hold us up any longer I will have you arrested."
"Fine, but Destaine won't be as patient as I."
"Who?"
"Destaine's a mamock!" shouted the parrot.
"Not anymore," turned Hannah and she smirked slightly, "I watched him come back and attack my party this morning. I have been hiding out waiting for the dark, so I can save what's mine and get out of here."
"But you were a lone party in Agrabah," remarked Aladdin, "and you didn't say anything about having any comrades when you arrived."
She rose her brow ready to snap back, but decided that she was losing her time fast enough and turned back to try to go to the dungeon, but the tiger hadn't moved. Her jaw locked and she turned back to the party.
"Fine, I met . . . some allies in the desert and we ended up here because I was checking out a source of dark magic."
The group seemed unimpressed.
"Look if you want answers, you will have to follow me. I am being sought out and if you even dare hold me up, I am more than willing to lead you straight into the captivity of Destaine."
They lowered their guard but it was clear that they didn't trust her.
"Follow me. It's clear that we all need to talk about our priorities, but not here. Destaine has too many spies, and too much power." she gestured for them to follow her, and she knew that they would hesitate. They did and as she made her way past them she caught a good view of the princess's party; the boy, bird, monkey, a blue man, the tiger and a Tibetan carpet.
Someone had some money . . . she mused.
After a bit she heard their footsteps follow her and she lead them out of the kingdom and carefully skirted them around the perimeter through a secret tunnel, Mozenrath had shown her and out into the desert. After a while of walking, she turned and faced her small legion of followers.
"This is far enough."
Jasmine's brow rose, and it rose higher when Hannah pointed at the sand and a tiny campfire spurted out of the sand and came to life.
"Alright, talk." snapped Jasmine, her guard had risen when the fire started and it was illuminated in her expression with little dignity.
"Alright," Hannah responded in a slightly mocking tone, "where do you want me to start?"
"Let's start with why you really came to the Arabian Desert." Aladdin answered before Jasmine did this time and though she shot him a dark glare she clearly approved of his answer.
"Fine," she responded, deciding to leave her affair with Mozenrath out of the picture, "I am Lady Du'Boius, princess of the Falconer clan. We are a hearty mountain people who were in civil war when I left the village. I was sent out to seek the aid of the chancellor Jafar, ruler of the land of fire and gold, only to discover that the land had been destroyed by wind jackals. It was nightfall when I arrived, and I saw dark magic stir to the south, and I decided to inspect it for any intruders. I didn't see any because my horse Allegra had landed us in your . . . kingdom." she smiled mockingly at the princess, "After gathering some supplies after being forced to sell my horse for fifteen hundred gold, I was pick pocketed, and had my blades sharpened, and I took off east. I made a couple allies out in the desert and continued my journey to the east. As I discovered, it was the land of the black sand. I skirted the city for a while, and watched it until one of my people went in and I was making an attempt to get them out this morning when Destaine captured them and locked them up."
"But Destaine isn't the ruler here!" shouted the bird.
"Iago, shut up." snapped Aladdin.
"What? Where the hell is Mozenrath?" Iago snapped back.
"He's been captured as well," answered Hannah casually as if Mozenrath meant nothing.
"How do you know!"
"I watched it happen. It seems his eel pet has betrayed him as well."
"Xerxies," the monkey tried to pronounce with hate, and Hannah's brow rose. Clearly these were not friends of Mozenrath's.
The very thought of the eel made her arm ache, and she instinctively rubbed the bandaged arm. She caught the blue man-a genie, watching her do this small action.
"What?"
"Nothing," the genie remarked, and watched the others.
"How do you know all this?" Jasmine finally asked, "I mean why should we trust you?"
"Or better yet, why haven't you returned to your village to inform your people that the 'chancellor' was dead?" Aladdin asked after Jasmine.
"I have the gift of foresight," she lied.
"Right. So what is your village like now?"
"Frozen. Frozen with corpses of the people, buildings and ruins of what my village used to be." she paused hesitant to force the details of her father's death at them.
"Yeah right," snapped the parrot.
"Come here," she commanded the bird tapping the sand next to her. The bird hesitated, until the monkey dragged him over to Hannah then retreated back to the lap of Aladdin. She placed her hand on the bird's head and said coldly, "You are the one who shall witness that I saw in my vision, and you will tell them that what I saw was the truth. If you still think of me false then may your conscience be more forgiving than mine was." She closed her eyes and channeled the vision of her dead father into the bird's brain, then released him. She watched him try to return to his comrades without stumbling, but it was as she had felt the days before; staggering to hold her balance with each step.
"She wins," Iago finally confessed, and fainted.
"What did you show him?" Jasmine asked, picking up Iago from the sand and into her lap.
"The true horror of my village and my dead father—do you know what it's like to lose a parent princess? I'd bet you wouldn't know what that's like. To have someone you love plucked from your life before you could say good bye."
"Shut up!" she shouted, standing up and turning away from the fire.
"Look; do what you all like, but I have to reach the dungeon, so I have to go back." Hannah stood up then and started to head back to the kingdom.
"What about your arm?" the genie finally asked low enough none of the others heard.
Hannah turned and looked at the genie, "My ally in there can remove the poison of Xerxies if I can reach him in time."
The genie stood up and moved to Hannah's side, and removed the bandage to expose the infection that was starting to putrefy. "Let me handle it. If you leave it for another hour your arm will not be the only thing poisoned." his hands covered the wound before she could protest, and the arm was healed.
"That's not the first time Xerxies had bitten you."
"You learn quick don't you?" she paused glancing at the people behind the genie and hissed quietly, "I don't know what you have learned, but if you even dare usher it to those friends of yours I will hunt you down myself."
The genie shrugged and returned to the others. Hannah turned and then suddenly turned back to the people and mimicking the fire of Mozenrath, shot a blue flame at the campfire, and she vanished back into the tunnel, laughing beyond an actual reason for why she even did it.
It occurred to her as she reached the end of the corridors that when they had made love their magic had mingled and they had shared more than just their bodies that night.
Hannah hadn't gotten very far, when she reencountered Xerxies, and this time he had brought Destaine with him.
"Well, well, well, come looking for something?" Destaine asked sarcastically, Xerxies laughed.
"Why, Destaine, I think I was looking for you, but in the dark you look worse than you do in the daylight. I don't know if I would have recognized you if it hadn't been for your crappy sarcasm."
Xerxies almost started to laugh when Destaine grabbed his throat without even looking.
"Bird lady, I should have guessed you would come back looking for your mate. Well you won't find him. I have locked him away and he will not be found. Not by you or those silly humans you just ditched."
"You wanna' bet?" she suddenly shifted form and shot off into the palace in search of the dungeon, and this time she was successful. And sure enough, she found him. Mozenrath barely looked up at first, but then looked at her with a wild fear.
"Hannah. You shouldn't be here."
"I cannot leave you here to be tortured alone," she reached up to undo the chains as she finished shifting back into her human form. The manacles weren't giving easily, but she wasn't about to give up yet.
She could hear Destaine coming, but she wasn't going to run. Instead, she whirled around and drew her katana style knives from her boots and stood her ground as he entered. The fight was short though when he suddenly gestured and she went flying into a pillar.
"Why Mozenrath, I am proud you suddenly chose romance over magic. Did you know she was about to bear a child by you? That would be a horrid thought to think on further. A little Mozenrath?" he started to chuckle wickedly, "I think I just did you a favor by throwing her into the wall, and shattering her womb on impact. Her body, even if she is a magic bird cannot fix that."
Hannah looked up at Mozenrath as her body began to contort and rapture by the force of the impact. She fell into shock suddenly and she cried out, her eyes forced to look away from her devastated lover, and embrace whatever was coming.
When she awoke, she was out in the middle of the desert. The air was burning hot, but she wasn't too heavily clothed, to sweat it all out in five minutes. She looked about her into the arid golden sand, and tried to see life around her but found nothing. She tried to speak, but her voice caught in her throat and she coughed instead. She stood up, and took two steps before falling.
How long have I been out here? Based on the degree of her sun burn she was sure it had been more than a few hours.
She needed to reach the highest dune and figure out where she was. She looked about herself, taking an inventory of what she had and discovered that Destaine hadn't searched her bags. She was certain now how to destroy Destaine-or at least contain his wrath. The same way she had planned to capture Jafar.
She pulled back the loose strands of her black hair as she started to head back east. At least she thought she should be headed in that general direction, even if she fell back into the sand face first every five or so steps. She was going to need water soon, but that would have to wait until she found an oasis first.
She heard something then and turned to see that it was the princess and her people headed west. It was clear that they spotted her and landed nearby. It was obvious to see a dark clad person in the sun kissed sand.
"Hannah-er Lady Du'Boius? What are you doing out here?" Jasmine asked with some confusion.
"Hello princess. I think I was supposed to be attacking Destaine but he got the upper hand." She forced herself to stand steady, but her hand caught her abdomen which was now turning purple from the bruising, and she fell back into the sand, and decided to just sit in it, and look up at everybody.
Then a thought hit Hannah, "How long have you all been traveling west?"
"Two days,"
There was no way she should have survived in two days in this baking sun.
Blame the magic, my dear.
Who is this?
Margerite. I believe we will meet later. For now, just trust me.
"I am going to need some rest from the sun soon,"
"No kidding." Jasmine retorted sarcastically, "You seem to be in good spirits though."
"You see why I said Jafar steered clear of Destaine?" shouted Iago who remained on the carpet with the monkey.
Hannah shifted her position so she wouldn't see them directly, except at that moment that was the wrong move.
"Hey! Why the hell does she have Mozenrath's seal branded on her back?"
Hannah froze. Crap! She thought quickly for an answer.
"Blame Destaine," she lied.
"Right," Aladdin remarked with some oddity, as he looked to his genie.
The genie who was behind her suddenly decided to become the lie detector;
"Try again Hannah. You need our help. You need to tell us the real truth. Fill the kids here in on what the real story is behind the illusions you left them with last night."
"What illusions?" Aladdin stammered, clearly stunned.
"He's right," Hannah sighed, "But can we get out of the heat? I feel like I have been out here for too long. Plus I need some water."
"You gonna' spill us the truth?"
"I am going to need some shade first," Hannah answered.
With a sigh, the genie snapped his fingers and they were all in a white alabaster room, with plenty of shade from the sun but well lit by its glow, water was served in golden goblets.
"Now spill!" shouted Iago.
"I never met anyone out in the desert," Hannah finally said, after drinking a bit of water, but setting the goblet aside, the gold messing with her senses. "Can the goblet be of ceramic?" she asked the princess.
"What?"
"Stone?"
"Oh," she clapped her hands and a servant entered.
"Yes, princess?"
"My guest Lady Du'Boius needs a different cup. Turquoise,"
"Of course."
In a moment he returned and left.
Hannah sipped the water now; it tasted better, not metallic.
"Continue," Jasmine snapped suddenly with a harsh tone.
Hannah's brow rose, "I arrived in the land of the black sand, and was captured by Xerxies and handed over to the lord Mozenrath, who made me his prisoner, then his particular . . . vessel that he decided he wanted power from."
"And?"
"Well, clearly he didn't get that, because if I was like you two humans, I would already be dead."
Jasmine stiffened.
"And what—you were his new pet next to Xerxies for-what? Nearly a week?" Aladdin filled in the blank with his own assumption.
She looked at the genie who gestured this time for her to spill the truth she didn't want to say.
"Xerxies aided Destaine in becoming human the night Mozenrath decided that I was more than a pet to him."
"What?" Jasmine's brow rose.
"Oh isn't that beautiful!" screamed the parrot with such sarcasm, that Hannah chucked her undesired gold goblet at him.
Everyone looked at her with some confusion until finally the genie, who had remained silent filled in the blank before Hannah could, "He fell in love with the Lady Du'Boius."
"I beg your pardon?" Jasmine nearly choked on her water.
"That's how the brand was etched into my back. Certain things I do mark me. His insignia was branded when we confessed our emotions to one another."
"It was a little more than confess." The genie slipped in.
"What?" Iago who had shook off the water finally caught up with the topic.
"She is pregnant with his child. Despite the pillar Destaine slammed you into; your body hadn't taken yet. It has by now-it's a distinct odor that even Rajah has noticed."
"Wait-she has a little twit inside?"
"Yes Iago."
"Is she mad!"
"What?" Hannah asked with confusion.
"What? What? Are you kidding me? That loony can't be capable of love! It's inconceivable!" the parrot started to hyperventilate and pass out.
"You cannot keep that child." Jasmine announced coldly.
"Why?"
"'Why'? Because Mozenrath is the worst creature to exist—our world doesn't need a second!"
Hannah, losing patience with Jasmine's aggressive tone decided to catch Jasmine off guard with a little something that she had noticed but didn't let register until today.
"Jasmine, I hate to ask, but how far along are you? You already show signs."
"What?" she stared at Hannah with hate and then looked to the genie, who simply nodded. "How long?"
"You've been with child for a month now Jasmine."
She stared at the genie then at Aladdin, and she like Iago fainted.
Aladdin froze, then went to Jasmine, and tried to wake her.
The genie looked at Hannah then, "What do you want to do now?"
"I need to go back. Destaine will kill Mozenrath if I don't stop him first."
The genie nodded then looked to Aladdin, "We have to go, Al."
Aladdin looked up at the genie then at Hannah, "Fine-but Jasmine has to come. Carpet, let's go."
Destaine looked at his new mamluk with pride. He pulled the thread away, and trimmed the edges from its lip. He stared at it then looked at its right arm, skeletal, and obviously indiscreet.
"Oh we are going to have to fix this, especially if your little princess survived my little desert trick." He used a little magic and added tissue to the hand, though it would be temporary so long as Hannah Du'Boius was alive. "When she dies your hand will go back to the way it was. Until then, I want her to be unable to identify you."
Now the mamluk looked like any other,, but now it looked at him with hate. "Oh wait-your humanity, and will need to be annihilated. When the time comes I will take you to Agrabah and dismember you before the sultan to "prove" an alliance between us can be made then I shall destroy the city when he is no longer looking. How does that sound?"
The mamluk didn't speak, and Destaine took the moment to steal his power, as well as everything he had vowed to take from his nephew, as well as all possibility of him learning how to come back.
"Now who's a good boy? Run-along now and join the other mamluks, and become lost in the empty world of servitude."
He watched the mamluk leave slowly, with no hint of what had just happened to him, and then Destaine waited, sitting in the high backed throne room chair. He knew Hannah Du'Boius would return.
Hannah raced into the kingdom closely followed by the four-Jasmine, the genie, Aladdin, and the carpet through the streets, and then they stood before the front door to the palace. They hadn't been discreet on entering the kingdom because she wanted Destaine to know that she had survived the desert.
She shifted form then into the falcon, and waited for them to push the doors open. They stared at her for a moment, now understanding fully why Mozenrath had been so interested in getting her power, and then opened the door.
As they did there was a familiar hiss, and Hannah shifted back to her human form just as Xerxies came flying at her avian form and she snapped out with one of her hands to catch him, but missed as he caught her hand in his fangs. The genie snatched the eel and threw him into a cage then, and quickly healed her hand.
"You know the more he bites you on these poison days, the sooner you might actually become immune to his venom."
"Of course," she tried to smile but deep down inside she had a deeper gut feeling, and looked at the genie, "Would you and the others humor me with something?"
"Of course,"
"Ensure none of the mamluks are destroyed. We have been good not to run into any, but please, I believe they need to stay in one piece."
"Very well, you hear that guys?"
Aladdin and Jasmine nodded with some confusion, but didn't question the order.
"You'll be sorry falcon!" shouted Xerxies as his eyes bore with pure hatred at her.
She watched him for a bit, then dropped a black marble in the cage which Xerxies consumed quickly, but when he tried to speak, his voice caught, and he started to cough horrendously.
"What did you do?"
"I gave him a silencer. It'll wear off in a few hours. I believe the money of your Aladdin would love to say a few words to him when we are successful."
"If we are," Aladdin remarked blandly.
Hannah grinned weakly, "We will,"
They entered the grand hallway then, and Hannah could hear the aggressiveness in the mamluks, but the genie waved his fingers and suddenly all the mamluks were caged, and none could break free. She could see that they all showed a faint recognition of her presence, but they seemed so far away from when she simply was a guest to the master rather than an enemy.
They ran, Hannah leading the way, and she slammed into the throne room with little resistance the others following within a step or two, and suddenly she was face to face with Destaine. His face had darkened, but there was nothing soft about Destaine. He snapped his fingers and her comrades were in cages like they had caged the mamluks.
"Welcome back falcon girl. I suspected someone might find you out there in the desert." he smirked, and then continued, "But despite how much fun I have torturing people before their comrades, I have had enough with you Hannah Du'Boius, last of the Falconer clan of the Black Sea. You and that misfit that I see in your womb that survived must die. Horut'gi-fu`ja!"
Hannah, who hadn't been listening to Destaine, was reciting her own spell in a low whisper too silent for Destaine but not quiet enough for the Cube of Isis. To Destaine, though it might have looked more like a prayer, "Hatcha' horu't sah goru`,"
Both spells were activated in the same instant, and the spells worked around each other, and suddenly Destaine vanished, and Hannah cried out in horror as blood seeped out from her abdomen. This was not a wound any genie could fix.
"Ajurarta sueta," she murmured and the cages binding her allies vanished, and she rolled on the small steps before the high backed throne and squeezed her eyes shut briefly, as she muted the pain that rocketed within her. She knew this time that the child wouldn't make it through. She gasped, as her hand instinctively tried to clutch the open wound, but forced her other hand to grab the scarf that she had borrowed from Mozenrath's closet to tie the wound off.
Her comrades raced to her side, as she tried to use her own magic to at least prolong her survival. They were too stunned to speak, so Hannah forced the wind to her voice, and whispered, "Find Mozenrath. Please-he has to be one of these mamluks."
The genie nodded and was away, the other's followed except for Jasmine who decided to stay put. She had questions she wanted answered, obviously.
"How did you know that I was carrying?"
Hannah smirked slightly, "I knew, princess, because your hips have begun to shift slightly."
"But we haven't,"
"It's a natural thing that occurs naturally; all women know when they look at someone." she grinned, "You're too pretty to have hips that are slightly wider than your shoulders."
Jasmine looked back out to the throne where the genie was still mentally examining the mamluks. "Anything?" Jasmine shouted.
"Nothing. Is she sure that Destaine would really change him?"
"Absolutely," she coughed, as she forced her breathing to be controlled.
They searched until they were forced to go through to the back of the throne and through the back exit. Suddenly Hannah coughed roughly her breathing started to lose control, and just then the genie returned with Aladdin carrying a mamluk.
"Okay now what?"
Hannah forced the falcon within to prolong her time just for a few more minutes, and she felt the falcon give in and die to give the human part of her a few more minutes.
"Help me up," she asked without question, and was aided by Jasmine to a near sitting position. Holding her wound despite the pain, she permitted her fingers to become bloodied, and she drew primal symbols into the dark stone floor, and recited a spell that she knew would work to change Mozenrath back to his human state, but those would become the last words she would be able to speak, her magic all forced upon this one spell to bring back her love from the darkness.
"Haldor sa'carig, descachif done' fegione. Fonargo junsafo, kilimo selegra' parsephanae`." the symbols were engraved then into the floor by it's natural magic and Hannah fell backwards drawing her last breath in, and out as her head hit the stairs despite Jasmine's attempt to keep her from landing too hard.
There was a strange feeling like being pulled from a deep sleep when the mamluk looked at the floor and watched as the blood symbols rose, and then there was a light that came from the symbols and whirled around the mamluk with great speed. The living creatures in the room stepped back from the mamluk, he began to sense a sensation of history, and suddenly could feel his limbs regenerate, grow real tissue again, and then everything that he had once had started to slam back into his mind all at once; his childhood, Destaine, Xerxies, his mother's spirit, ruling the black sand, fighting Agrabah's people, losing the flesh in his right arm, the continuous power he was gaining, his successes and failures, it was all coming back to him ,sharpening his vision and hearing. The stitching that Destaine had hand done blew away like ashes, and the temporary flesh of the mamluk blew away, revealing his functional but skeletal hand, but then the tendons, and veins, muscle and flesh regenerated. It was something the magician had never witnessed. Then his memories hit a dead end as his memories danced through the time with Hannah Du'Boius, and how he had twisted feelings for the woman and how they had resolved themselves, and were suddenly torn apart, then a possibility of a child. He took a large gasp of air as the symbols vanished.
Mozentath blinked, now fully regenerated, and feeling fresh. His magic had been rightfully restored to him with a little extra not counting Destaine's. It took him a moment to realize that the magic was Hannah's, he had had a small bit before but now it felt like he had stolen her entire extent of magic. He looked down at his right hand letting his fleshy thumb run along the tips of his fingers, the strange, foreign, and tingling sensation brought a smile to his lips, until from the distinct scent of death hit him head on.
He looked up from his hand and saw the blood at first, which barely meant anything to him until he saw that his own enemies were hovering around the corpse with more shock than pain. Then it registered who the corpse was. With a cry of anguish that didn't feel like his own he ran to the body, dropped to his knees, and cradled the head against his chest. His brain was racing trying to find an answer in all his spells to return this jewel to life, but nothing was registering, as from the corners of his tear stained eyes he saw his former enemies leave. He looked down at his beloved then called after the quadruplet of heroes.
"Wait!" he hoisted Hannah into his arms, and followed after them.
They stopped as he came up beside them. It was clear on their faces that they were unsure how to take his non-lethal attitude.
"Please," he said carefully ensuring to himself that what he was about to do would be alright, "I need your help,"
They didn't say anything for a while, then to his surprise Jasmine stepped towards him and Hannah, and placed her hand on Hannah's shoulder. "What do we have to do?"
"Follow me. There is a room down the corridor that I feel might have answer."
"Might?" Aladdin questioned, "You are the ruler here, and yet you don't know everything about your own kingdom?"
Mozenrath felt himself darken in patience as those words struck him like ice, "Yes, I have unknown corners in this kingdom. But there are sentimental reasons." he paused, "Please, for Hannah's sake,"
The quadruplets looked at each other then finally nodded.
"For Hannah's sake; we owe nothing to you." The genie responded with little respect.
"Of course," he led them down several hallways and corridors and finally entered his mother's chamber. He would probably never understand why his mother popped in and out of his psyche to help him out, but in an instinctive motion, he set Hannah on the fur covered mattress, and looked back at the royal foursome, "In this room is clearly tons of documents, I need help finding one particular topic and that is," he glanced at the corpse that struck a memory . . . a vision.
A woman had been in that particular position and state of being once, people cried around her bed and wept. She could have been saved, was the words people cried out the most, as Destaine held the infant Mozenrath in his arms. Why did she have to allow people to know about her master's laboratory? Who was the man who stole the cube who threatened her with her life if she told anyone the truth? . . .
The cube . . .
"The Cube of Isis," Mozenrath finally finished after a moment.
The five of them then set to work flipping through scrolls and books as if they were the same finding a hint of the cube. He didn't know why he was searching for it, especially for a record of it in his mother's things but it was all he had left that he could do. After a while, a good half hour there was an answer, as Aladdin read out loud, the following,
"July seventeenth, year fourteen fifty seven,
"Dear Diary, I don't understand why the master has asked me to keep a log or journal of my day to day activities. He says it'll help someone in the future maybe. I may never know. He taught me today about the secret of the Cube of Isis, a rare red jewel like cube that can capture magical deities, and use the cube to transport unwilling folk to another region or as a way to remove one's power and give it to another. He mentioned that in the Book of Acardis, that there was a spell to transfer the life of the captured deity into another who has none left. He seemed less willing to talk about life giving than the power transfer. I sense he would prefer I focus on the dark magics."
Aladdin looked up at Mozenrath then, "Does that help?"
"Keep filing through that book. There has to be more," he answered, and turned to a chest, that with a touch of magic opened before him, to reveal a box of magical treasures she had hidden from her master. Atop the stash was a note;
"My son, I know I will never meet you and you have many questions for me, but I cannot answer them today. These are trinkets I took from my master so one day they would serve you rather than Destaine. Use them wisely, and remember that I will always love you. Margerite."
He sifted through the items with rapid care reaching the bottom to find the last thing he would expect; The Book of Acardis.
He began to sift through it when Aladdin began to read another entry;
"Today I met a man. He was mysterious, and informed me that if I told a soul that I had seen him that he would kill me in my sleep. He entered my master's lab and took a red cube from my master's cabinet of rare items, and vanished. He looked foreign but I never saw him again, even after I knew I would be forced to tell my master. He will banish me from my studies for a week. It has tortured me dearly since I had secretly taken the Book of Acardis from the library already curious about the cube's magical properties."
Aladdin looked up again, as Mozenrath snatched the journal and flicked several pages ahead, but finding nothing more about the cube, all the way to the end of the book which was dated to the day before his birth, he shut the book and continued to flick through the Book of Acardis.
Then he found it entitled, "Transfer of Life," and he handed the book to Jasmine, "Do not turn a page," he whirled to the corpse, certain that the cube was with Hannah still, fished trough her pouches, and pockets, until he found indeed the cube among other things in a pouch on her hip, and looked within the cube to see the bewildered face of Destaine stare back at him. Destaine started to scream something inaudible at him but the cube muffled all sound from escaping its borders. He snatched the book back from Jasmine and holding the cube in one hand the book in the other he ordered the foursome to leave, "I don't need any more dead bodies today,"
When the door closed, he began to read the spell written in a strange nomadic language, and felt the power of the cube warm in his hand. As he reached the end of the spell he placed the cube on Hannah's chest and stepped back as the spell instructed, and watched as a gold light bloomed from within and encased, Hannah's wound started to knit itself back together, and the white paleness of death on her skin started to bloom back into a peachy tan color that looked nearly flawless. Her etched skin's ink returned fully and richer than he could recall, and he stepped back, closing the book, and returning it to the chest, shutting the lid.
He sat on top of the chest and watched as a new mark danced over the place where an open wound had been and then the cube exploded melting into her skin, and for a fact he knew he would never have to worry about Destaine ever again. When the magic power had died down, he heard a faint whisper in his ear.
"Well done, my son."
He smiled weakly, and whispered into the thin air, "Thanks mom,"
Mozenrath waited and watched for what felt like a long time, and he knew that Jasmine had re-entered the room with the others and watched waiting for a sign of movement, or if they had taken too long finding the answer.
An hour passed, and he was starting to think he had missed a step when he suddenly saw a twitch in her hand, and he leapt from the case, and took her hand, "Hannah? Hannah can you hear me?"
There was a moment of silence then her head turned slightly towards him a deep breath was taken through her nose, and her eyes flickered. Her eyes finally flicked wide open, blinked, and a brow furrowed. Deep inside, Mozenrath heard his heart skip a beat as joy swelled from within, when she finally smiled in recognition. This time he could tell that her focus was fully on him.
"Mozenrath,"
By instinct alone he suddenly pulled her up into his arms, and wept with joy.
"Oh, Hannah, my darling Hannah,"
There was a week where his full focus was ensuring himself that she was indeed alive and that there was no hint of a threat that would dash his hopes of saving Hannah from anther near death experience. She seemed like her normal self, fully rejuvenated, and agile as always, but he knew that deep within, her falcon would never wake. He knew that aspect of her would torture them both, but he prayed that they would get through it. He had hung up the gauntlet for the time. Deep down he knew that this gift of the regeneration of his right arm would most likely be temporary, but it gave him some self confidence when he looked at his darling Hannah. He knew based on the death blow that she had lost the child that she supposedly had been blessed with. She didn't seem too upset about it but then again, she was a very independent woman and might have shed a tear or two when he wasn't present.
A messenger came from Agrabah the following week summoning the two of them to the bright city in order to draw up a truce with the sultan. This for some strange reason felt right to Mozenrath despite his past hate for the city and its people. He took Hannah's hand when they entered the palace and were escorted to the throne room, where it was clear that the treaty would be witnessed by many ambassadors and representatives from other regions of the seven deserts.
Jasmine entered from the side, and took Hannah's hand and pulled her out of the room, and Mozenrath was about to protest, until Aladdin took her seat at the meeting, and the sultan began to speak.
"Welcome representatives and ambassadors; lords and ladies from the near and far corners of the seven deserts,"
Jasmine lead Hannah through a passageway but she was acting strange and Hannah was well aware of it, "Jasmine, what are we doing?"
"I have a surprise for the two of you."
"But if it's for the two of us then why,"
Jasmine cut her off, stopping at facing Hannah in the middle of the hallway, "You love him right?"
"Yeah but,"
"Then you must wed-here-today."
Hannah froze. "Wed? As in marriage?"
"Yes, silly!" Jasmine laughed, "Come I have ordered one of the finest silk makers and seamstresses to my chambers. I refuse to let you leave today unwed to the master of the black sand."
"What about the ambassadors?"
"They are all unaware of it and are forced to secrecy on the matter should they actually figure it out. They simply think that they are taken to a different room to see a cheap show by the genie." Jasmine answered quickly, then did something strange.
Jasmine began to giggle wildly, and they entered her chambers.
Mozenrath's hand was took the quill pen and signed the official treaty set by the sultan, and they all shook hands. There was a strange sense of joy as they all were lead to a different chamber in the palace. Aladdin swept an arm over the black sand master's shoulders and lead him in a different direction.
"What's going on?" Mozenrath asked, glancing over his shoulder catching the awkward glances of the ambassadors as he was lead to Aladdin's apartment in the palace "Obviously this is more than just a peace treaty,"
"Indeed. Jasmine has had a bug up her side since we left your kingdom last week and has decided to arrange for a ceremony today. Obviously it had nothing to do with me, but I have to play a part." he gestured to a pair of men who stood in the corner of his room, and the two stepped forward. "This man needs a slightly more formal change of clothing by sunset. Would you two see to it?"
"Yes, sir,"
"And Jasmine will pay you two fold if you do a good job today." Aladdin added over his shoulder as he started sifting though his closet for something relatively clean and formal to wear.
"Aladdin what is going on?" Mozenrath's irritation stirred slightly, and trying to swat the tailors away without harming them.
Aladdin pulled something from his closet, and chucked it onto his bed. "Jasmine has had a plan for Hannah now for the last week and a half. She knows how much you mean to Hannah, and had decided to host your marriage here without your consent."
"Did Hannah know?"
"Nope,"
Mozenrath's brain was clearly not going to consent to any of this at the very moment, but it wasn't going to protest against any of this either.
What do I do, Mother?
Go with it my son. You two need one another. Neither can survive without the other. That was obvious when I met her on the other side.
But she has no magic!
She will after tonight if you take this little step in your life.
But,
Please my son. She adores you and worships you by having never left your side this last week.
But I have no ring! That much he knew about marriage thanks to watching his arch enemies over the last few years.
And as if Aladdin heard that remark his psyche had shot at his mother, he tossed him a small bag. When Mozenrath pulled the draw string away, a small gold ring was within and atop the ring sat a small back stone that he didn't have to ask the details of its identity. Rather he was more shocked; Black Sand diamonds were rare, even in their home land.
"How?"
"It was stashed in one of Iago's cubby holes. Jasmine took it when he wasn't looking and had it set in a ring."
"But . . ." he was a t a loss for words, being that he had never had to do something like this, "Aladdin! I haven't done anything like this before!"
"You just say 'I do' when instructed, then it's all over."
"I didn't write any vows!" the thought of how such ceremonies went.
"You don't have to. The arrangements have been made that those will be exchanged privately between the two of you."
"Aladdin! This is not what I had in mind." This had never been his intention.
You'll regret it if you don't do this.
"You know Jasmine, and she would be pissed if you chose to deny her this one little stunt."
He looked down into the bag again, a small childlike part of him was nervous, and he wished that suddenly he had been trained in more human aspects of good customs.
When he was finally suited in light colors and silks, Aladdin let him out of his apartment and back into the room where everyone was seated, but they had a sincere curiosity and questioned what this part of the treaty was about. The sun had hit twilight, and torches were lit to defend this event from taking place in the dark. Mozenrath's small nerves were tingling with fear as Aladdin led him to the head of the room, and they sat in chairs provided.
Hannah stiffened again as a pin accidently nicked her skin.
"Hold still, my lady," the seamstress remarked.
But Hannah wasn't listening as she looked around the room and heard a girl giggle, as a young woman most definitely younger than she enter Rajah following. The girl had fluffy brown hair and skin that nearly matched the tone nicely. She was dressed in fancy western civilization noble women dressings, and she froze when she saw Hannah out of the corner of her eye.
"Jasmine," the young woman called out, "who is this?"
"Sadira, meet Hannah Du'Boius. I told you about her once already when you saw me gathering wedding decorations.
"Oh, she's the one marrying that magic man you hate so much? Why are you doing this then?"
"Because I had a whim hit me sometime after I met Hannah. It wasn't like when I first met you." She giggled, "Hannah's the one who told me I was pregnant."
It was clear that Sadira didn't trust Hannah, though Hannah was harmless while forcing herself to stand still for the seamstresses.
"It's okay not to like me, ma'am," Hannah retorted with a warmth in her tone that dropped some of Sadira's hate, "I have that effect on everyone."
Sadira smiled weakly, then as Rajah placed and un-clawed paw on Sadira as she sat down. "How did you know about Jasmine?"
"I have an ability to see things that others can't. Jasmine will learn to see the changes soon enough."
"Do you have kids?" Sadira asked.
"No." Hannah answered, lifting an arm so that a seamstress could finish a seam.
"Are you?"
"Most probably, I want to enjoy being married for a while first." She could feel her face glow though at the thought of having a child to Mozenrath.
Sadira made a sand ball then out of thin air and threw out of the room so Rajah had something to do, and Hannah couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness to see someone use magic that wasn't Mozenrath.
Jasmine and Hannah watched her go. "She's like a sister to me. Aladdin thought she might be best with Mozenrath at one point, but I couldn't bear the thought of her living there with that man and his eel. But then again, she found my cousin Justaine to be a worthy mate when he came to visit a few months back, oh how similar he and Aladdin look. They were married a few weeks ago, and she won't admit it, but I know based on what you told me that she is pregnant."
"You've been ceremoniously busy haven't you?" remarked Hannah with some jovial chuckling, deciding to disregard the statement of Sadira's pregnancy.
"Of course, I love my Sadira. She's like a little sister to me these days, and I enjoy the company of someone who is faster than Rajah on a good day. She will grow to like you. She takes some getting used to."
"So I see," she mused as another needle pricked her.
That would make five now, she thought carefully.
You look beautiful, Margerite remarked warmly.
How is Mozenrath?
Nervous, but he will be fine when see sees you in your glory.
Mozenrath's hands fidgeted blindly but he didn't let go of the ring. He felt awkward sitting in front of a bunch of people. He was so used to his solitary life that this even had cold sweat build up on the back of his neck. A servant girl came out then and whispered something in Aladdin's ear, and with a quick gesture, both men stood up as the chairs were removed. He knew that this little event was going to start soon. Then a question popped into his mind, and he asked Aladdin in a low voice so that no one would hear, "Aladdin, what finger does ring go on?"
"Second to last on her left hand." he answered quickly, as the door opened then and Jasmine lead in a breath-taking Hannah Du'Boius. She was dressed in a white primal style gown that was uniquely cut to show her ink, but didn't overstate the markings against the white and creams she had been layered in lightly. Jasmine escorted the Lady Du'Boius to the front, and Jasmine took the center of the room to gather everyone's attention.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, good ambassadors and representatives, lords and ladies, I have asked that this event you are now to witness take place after the peace treaty, as a courtesy. I have let you watch the genie do various performances in order to bear witness to an event that even our beloved guests, Lord Mozenrath, and Lady Du'Boius were unaware of until a few hours ago. For the last two weeks nearly, I have been acquainted with the lovely Hannah Du'Boius, and I have learned a lot in such a small time, about myself and about being a woman. I have hated her, but found respect for myself through her and I cannot hate someone who does such nice things. I also have learned that even the cruelest of men have a soft spot. Here you shall bear witness to what I have learned, and I hope that you shall all embrace this special event I have concocted in the last eight days with joy."
There was an awed silence as Jasmine stepped aside and both she and Aladdin moved Mozenrath and Hannah to the center of the head of the room. The genie who had shifted costumes became a priest.
Some hours later when Mozenrath and Hannah had returned to the land of the black sand and had hidden away from the rest of the world in his chambers, they had snuggled up together under the furs. This time Mozenrath knew exactly what he was doing, and was going on when climatic moment of intimacy hit them.
Something strange as well occurred as she arched up at the peak of the orgasmic climax; a feather fell out and off her neck near the same place he had plucked one when they had first met.
He licked it up from the pillow it had landed on, and both of them looked at it in some surprise, and grinned madly.
The falcon within had been resurrected.
