This is my personal adaptation of Sinbad and Ja'far's meeting and adventures together; I try to use the facts given, however I did a lot of interpretation due to not much known about their younger years together. So forgive me if anyone seems a bit OOC at times ;-; I hope you enjoy!

Darkness, accompanied by the silence of nighttime. A thin stream of smoke faded into the air from a blown-out candle, filling the spacious room with the intoxicating scent of blooming flowers.

As the candle's smoke disappeared from his view, he lifted up his linen cloak and tightened his grip on the metal blades underneath. His eyes had been accustomed to darkness from years of living in it. He existed in hiding.

Slow, steady footsteps towards the target; a young boy—older than himself, however—who had gained recent fame throughout Partevia. Ja'far had overheard his bosses rumoring about this 'Sinbad' who supposedly captured a dungeon… Ja'far himself failed to realize what that meant, but by observations, it was apparently something of great importance.

Sinbad was a heavy sleeper, or so it seemed. Ja'far listened closely to the older boy's breathing, as he approached him in silence. Asleep, he lay sprawled out on an overly cushioned bed, unconscious and unaware of his surroundings… unaware of Ja'far hesitantly placed beside him.

Ja'far knew what he had to do. Capture him. Bring him back alive. The young boy stared at this sleeping stranger, contemplating how to act upon him. He had performed so many assassinations that he was furtive enough to handle any task given to him. But he had never kidnapped someone. Sneakily attacking and slitting a throat without a single noise being uttered from the victim's mouth was second nature to him… but capturing? Was he supposed to knock this boy unconscious and drag him out? He was sent on this mission alone, because when a task was given, any good assassin knows not to ask questions unless you want a beating. At least, any assassin of Ja'far's troupe.

Ja'far blinked, soundlessly breathing in the scent around him to calm down. He had to stop wasting time, or the sleeping boy would feel his presence.

The next thing he knew, he was on top of the other, one hand around his neck and one with the blade in hand, raised and ready to stab. In a matter of seconds he had already jumped atop the boy and seized a blanket, stuffing his mouth with it to keep the now startled teenager quiet.

But Sinbad was apparently ready for a nocturnal assault, for Ja'far found himself rolling off the bed, strangling the other with two small hands as his own arms were being pried off his target.

He thrashed and kicked as hard and fast as possible, but Sinbad had been prepared. Ja'far's own blades were in the hands of the other boy, and he was pinned to the floor, unable to move due to his small frame.

Ja'far evaluated Sinbad's expression; he was surprised, stunned even. He didn't show signs of fear though… only shock. Even when he realized the metal edges he held were blades, he simply sighed as if he had only been peacefully interrupted from his previously half-conscious state.

Sinbad, however, couldn't determine Ja'far's emotions. Ja'far could tell… no one ever understood his expressions, since he only seemed to have two moods: anger and violence. Stained wrappings covered the younger boy's mouth, but his eyes were thin and snakelike, his eyebrows knitting into angry discontent.

They stared at each other for a good minute until Ja'far attempted an escape by lashing around under Sinbad, however the older boy's grip refused to falter.

Another three minutes of silent stares passed until one spoke.

"Just who are you?"

Ja'far looked away. Wasn't it obvious, or was this Sinbad a complete idiot? He had just been attacked in the middle of the night, what did he expect Ja'far to respond with, a carpet delivery boy? Did he even expect Ja'far to respond at all?

"If I let you go, will you attack me again?"

No response once more, as expected of a failed assassin.

Sinbad's grip released, and he stood up with empty hands, taking a step back to allow Ja'far the same.

"Woah there kid," Sinbad said, flashing a brief grin as he caught Ja'far's arms once again when the youth jolted up and tried to stab him. "Calm down… it's gonna be okay, I'm not hurting you, just please drop the knives."

Ja'far struggled against his grasp, beyond shame for failing a simple task such as this one. Twice, for that matter… he would keep trying until Sinbad killed him, there was nothing left to do. If he returned to the troupe without the dungeon capturer, he couldn't even imagine the types of tortures he would receive… either way he would be murdered, so he figured the only way to go out with dignity would be to die fighting.

Sinbad quickly grabbed a chain from his dresser next to the bed and, still gripping Ja'far's arms, chained his wrists to a bedpost in an attempt to keep the younger boy from attacking thrice more.

Ja'far's eyes were glued to the strange teenager, watching his every move as he walked across the room to begin lighting a few candles. His features were lit up by the flames; tanned skin, complimented by long, violet hair, which loosely hung around his shoulders and back. As Sinbad approached Ja'far once more, blowing out the match, Ja'far saw his eyes.

They were amber gold, but Ja'far was more interested in the expression they wore. Sinbad's emotions were no longer focused on surprise, now they were rather… amused. He acted as if this was a normal occurrence, as if Ja'far had just waltzed in his room and tried to kill him and now Sinbad had to deal with him like a brother.

The older boy sat down on the edge of his bed next to Ja'far, patting the spot next to him as if gesturing to Ja'far. Ja'far didn't budge though, he just stared.

"Harsh." Sinbad joked.

Why was he acting like this was a prank? He did realize his life was in danger; both of their lives were in danger? Was he really just this stupid?

Sinbad got up again, and stood in front of Ja'far. He was a few inches taller, but he didn't seem intimidating at all, save for the fact that he'd been the only target so far to dodge Ja'far's attacks.

"May I?" He asked, gently touching a hanging strand of the wrapping around Ja'far's face. When Ja'far neither nodded nor protested, Sinbad softly unfolded the ribbon-like cloth, placing it in a pile on the bed.

Ja'far felt partially bare without a mask covering his mouth… he didn't know what to do with it. Of course he wouldn't smile, but what should he do? Frown? Keep on a thin-lipped stare?

"That bandage is filthy. I'll tear you another from something, if you'd like," Sinbad offered, trying to get a reply from Ja'far. "Unless you want to air out a bit, that's a good idea too."

Ja'far glared at him. Sinbad should just kill him already and get it over with. That's what he'd be forced to end up doing, anyway.

"So." Sinbad sat down again and sighed. "What exactly are you doing here? Any reason you awoke me so suddenly? Besides killing me, of course. I guess what my real question is, is why you want to kill me? Are you trying to get my metal vessel?"

Ja'far had no idea what this one-sided conversation meant, at least the last part. But he didn't let his confusion show, and Sinbad continued talking to himself.

"If you are, you can just tell me. I mean, it's pretty hard to use unless you're the djinn's king candidate, y'know? Not the sword of course, that's fairly easy to use if you know how. But the magic, I mean. Baal. There probably is some way to use it, but not that I know of. Hell, me and… I'm not sure I'd call him my friend, but anyway, we had to fight for the djinn. We couldn't both have a share; it was one or the other. That's what I mean; I don't think djinn work with two people, even if they are tied to one metal vessel. Is that what you think? I'm pretty sure I'm right. But I don't even know if you're here for the metal vessel; you could just be here to kill me! Do I have any enemies that would hire an assassin? Hmm… speaking of which, you're a fairly young assassin, assuming that's what you are. How old are you, 8? 9? I'm 15. Just turned 15 a while ago, actually. You know, I've never seen someone so young as an assassin. And such a skilled one at that, I mean, wow, you could've killed me back there! I'm glad you-"

"Are you going to kill me yet?" Ja'far blurted out, getting tired of the older boy's rambling.

Sinbad's eyes widened in surprise. Not so much because Ja'far thought he was going to kill him, but Sinbad was surprised the kid even spoke.

"Kill you? Why would I kill you?"

"I tried to assassinate you. I failed. Now's your chance."

Sinbad laughed. "Well, I hardly have reason to kill you now, don't I?"

No reply.

"Look, the way I see it, you're just a young kid. You've got life ahead of you. Who am I to take that away? About a year ago people thought I wouldn't amount to anything either, but look at me now, I've captured the first dungeon for crying out loud! I mean, even if you are a cold-blooded killer, I don't know… I just can't bring myself to kill a kid like you."

"A 'kid like me'?"

"Yeah. Something about you, I can't really put a word to it. You're just… strange. Not in a bad way, just a mysterious way. I can't tell what you're thinking, or whether or not you're going to attack me. I feel like if you really wanted to, you could've broken out of those chains by now."

Ja'far shrugged with an apathetic expression.

"You don't talk much, do you?"

No, but obviously you do. He only shrugged again, staring at the floor.

"Look, ah-what's your name? Nothing? Okay, well look; I'll let you go, if you promise not to try to kill me again. Deal?"

Ja'far didn't nod or shake his head… in all honesty; he didn't know how to respond. If Sinbad wouldn't kill him, he'd have to return to the troupe… but if he returned to the troupe, he'd be shamed and tortured, most likely killed… he couldn't run away, they would find him. Should he kill himself if Sinbad wouldn't?

The chains fell to the ground as Ja'far's wrists were released. Sinbad was ready for another attack, but Ja'far didn't move, much to both of their surprise.

He stood still, eyes locked on Sinbad, waiting. Waiting for himself to move, or say something… anything. But he couldn't.

"Are you going to leave? Oh, do you want that fresh wrapping I promised earlier?"

"I…" Ja'far gripped a blade in his hand and stared down at it. "I'm not going back. But I'll leave."

"STOP!" Ja'far readied his weapon, aiming towards his own heart when Sinbad grabbed his arms once again, lowering them away from his chest. "No, you're not doing that."

"Why not? You won't kill me."

Sinbad stared for a while, trying to understand what this kid was saying. What kind of warped complex did he have? "Is that really what you want? For me to kill you? You don't even want to keep living anymore?"

"I can't." Was Ja'far's simple answer.

"You can't?"

"I can't go back. They'll…" His voice trailed off a bit, and he tugged at the bottom of his cloak.

Sinbad's expression became empathetic, and he took the weapons from Ja'far's hands and held them in his own, giving him a soft smile. "Who says you need to go back? This is your life; don't let someone tell you how to live it. You're the only one who can shape yourself… don't let that opportunity go to waste. You've got potential… it's obvious; you're talented. Don't leave like that, okay?"

Ja'far stared down at the knives in Sinbad's hands.

"Promise me, okay? You won't do something like that."

Another minute passed, and Ja'far only stood there. He didn't remember the last time someone had said something like that to him. It felt as if someone actually… cared about him.

"…you barely even know me…"

"Promise?" Sinbad repeated.

He opened his mouth, and his voice came out a bit shakily.

"…I promise."

If you read the entire chapter, thank you so much 3 I hope you enjoyed it, this is my first attempt at actual fanfiction so I hope I did somewhat okay, I was really nervous to upload this but whatever. Another chapter coming soon!