Author's Note: I've been planning to work on writing in a Dangan Ronpa fanfic I had started, but I should probably let everyone know of my unconditional love of Magi. It's told from Sinbad's POV. This is slightly AU-ish seeing as Sinbad might not actually respond like this and with an OC being one of the main characters. I feel like I write too many serious fics, but anyways, I hope you like it!
"Please, King Sinbad, Partevia needs your help," a desperate face looked up at me as I gazed over the small crowd gathered at the foot of my throne.
"Help the war-obsessed country that stole my father from me? That ridiculed him even as he was at death's door?" I scoffed. I looked at Ja'far, who's hurt and confusion was more apparent than mine. I stood, trying to seem more confident than I really was.
"I do not hate the citizens of Partevia, but this country refused to help my family in their time of need. With that said, I will do the same in its time of need." Why was I telling these complete strangers this? My decisions are never backed by emotion but by calculating what is best for myself and for my country, but this time, I couldn't help but consider the hurt this country brought. My dad's leg, his life, my mother's life… Is this all I can really think of when thinking back to my youth in that little village?
"Sin, maybe we should listen to them…" Ja'far said, a look of uncertainty plastered across his face. He doesn't have many fond memories of this country and its citizens, as well, but even so, he's still concerned about their well-being. He's so soft.
"No, my decision is final," I declared after a moment, and only a moment, of second thought. "I'll allow you to stay in Sindria for as long as you wish, but I will not get involved with Partevia's affairs. Try another king, perhaps."
"Do you think we wanted to ask you? We had no other choice! You're the only person from Partevia that has any feasible reason to give us outside help." A small girl, only fourteen or fifteen years of age, pushed her way to the front of the crowd. Her pale, thin face was clouded with rage and disgust. "Do you really have so little loyalty to your birth country that you won't even spare one troop or even a few metal vessels? There's a reason that so many of us do love Partevia, and it's a pity you can't see it," she practically spat. Her loyalty wasn't like many of the people I knew back when I was younger. She didn't spew out words like "expatriot." She wasn't brainwashed by the need for her country to win wars. What an interesting girl. She could prove to be useful; I could use her will to my advantage.
"What's your name?"
"That's completely off top-"
"Just answer."
"Demir." That name doesn't fit such a small girl like her. I took in her features. She had two long swords strapped across her back, each with wooden carved hilts and dull metal blades. Her eyes were completely gray, no pupils, a trait of a small semi-nomadic clan. Her long arms were flawed by nicks and scars
"Demir, although I still won't help Partevia, I can help you. Come live in Sindria with me in my palace. I have a master swordsman that could teach you so much. Maybe you could even become one of my eight, well, with the addition of you, nine generals."
The crowd became silent, save a few shocked murmurs, by my sudden proposition. Demir looked at me, no notable emotion on her face.
"Stop playing king," she finally said with a low monotone voice.
"Excuse me?"
"I said for you to stop playing king. Please, everyone knows your story. Your father was a fisherman, and, although he was a fine man, he was no king. You had to pay for the land your country is on. I don't know any other way to get so many citizens in, what, ten years, without having to bribe them. You didn't start this country by any military conquests or being rightfully born to the throne, you had to buy your way up. You aren't a real king, so stop acting like you are. The only person you're fooling is yourself." She looked at me in the eyes, believing firmly what she said. She didn't attack my right to be king. She didn't say I was incompetent to be one, either. She merely questioned my methods of becoming one, which was, for some reason, more effective. I'm used to my enemies babbling out illogical insults at my feet, but she logically and calmly blew holes in my reign.
She's not wrong, though. I had to buy this island from another country using the money and treasure I got from capturing dungeons. I had to bribe many citizens, as well. I didn't become king of this country by any accepted ways, at least in the eyes of everyone else. I didn't believe this to be a problem until now.
"Sin…" Ja'far said, slightly nudging my arm. I had been staring at the girl in shock, and she looked back with a slightly victorious but slightly confused glint in her dark eyes.
I cleared my throat. "I take that as a no?"
"Damn right."
"Very well. Please leave my palace with your friends, then."
The small group left quickly, crestfallen with the lack of results and quieted by the girl's defiance. I slumped back into my throne.
"Not a real king, huh…"
What a draining day.
Demir is a Turkish name meaning "of iron." Sinbad thinks it's odd that a girl as small as her would have a name associated with a metal.
