So, this idea came to me in German literature class. We were reading Auf der Flucht by Wolfdietrich Schnurre and my mind forced me to rewrite it as Sinja. It tried to keep it as much as the original as possible, which also made its writing a bit strange some time... Ah well. This was actually the first time I cried while writing. I was close to crying in the fire scene for An alliance of Love though. To anyone that knows Auf der Flucht, you can still stop reading. To everyone that has no idea what it's about and still reads it, I'm sorry.
The man had grown a beard in the long time they had been walking around. And if his companion had been female, most would've said he was too old for them. The gray haired companion carried a child in his arms, the young magi that had decided to follow them for some time. But now he couldn't even walk, hunger had started to drain all three of them, but Aladdin's powers had drained all of his strength within days. Only soft, muttering sounds came from the young magi. Ja'far felt hunger as well, but he didn't talk about it. Whenever Sinbad would look back at him, the advisor smiled or at least he tried. He knew Sinbad felt the hunger as well.
Oh how much they had wanted to stay in Sindria, but they knew it was no longer possible. War had destroyed their country, taken everything they once had: their home and their friends along with it.
They walked through a forest filled with pine trees. A rustling sound came from them, but sometimes there was silence. Berries and mushrooms were no longer there, the sun had burned them. The heat lay out on the path. Only small bits of wind came through. The buzzards enjoyed that part. Deer and hares had found their place between the fern as they panted and could no longer move.
"Can you continue?" Sinbad asked.
Ja'far stopped walking. "No" he said.
They sat down. The trees were covered with slowly moving caterpillars. When the wind was gone, the sound of the needles being devoured by them could be heard. It cracked, needles and poo fell down like rain.
"Caterpillars," The former king said. "They're eating the whole forest."
"Where are the birds?" His friend asked.
"I don't know," was the answer, "I don't think there are any more birds."
The younger male looked down at the magi that lay in his arms. If they were back in Sindria he would've given the young boy enough to eat, but there was nothing left. His king felt his heart break slowly. If the heat would keep growing and the boy couldn't get his powers back, Sinbad feared for the worst.
"We can't do this any longer." He said.
"You're right." Ja'far said, he tried to laugh, but failed.
"I'll get some food" the older man said.
"Where?"
"I'll go search for it." He said and then he left.
…
He walked through the dying forest. With a small knife he had managed to save from the disaster of war, he cut marks in the trees he passed. He saw sand, a place where a lake had been located before. Next came a place, now covered in black. It had been a meadow one time. He kept walking for two hours, then he saw a small path he followed. Near a stone lay a snake, it had shriveled up in the heat. The plants around had started to fall apart.
Not much later he found an unused field. Behind that a village. That was dead.
He sat down on a cart and fell asleep. The walk had tired him. As he slept he fell down and the feeling of his burning throat returned to him. He stood up and walked to one of the houses. The house was empty. The drawer was pulled out of the desk and lay on the ground. Pots had been smashed just like the window. On the stove, he found a cloth. Within it a piece of bread, it was hard.
He took it and left the village again after he had found the other houses to be empty. There wasn't even a drop of water. The wells contained dead animals.
He didn't dear to tear of a part of the bread. It was all for Ja'far, and for the young magi to be fed again. He found no living animals. The cats and some chickens were all dead.
A storm hung in the sky.
…
In the field he crushed a lizard, which turned to dust in a second. The sound of thunder arose. Before the forest he could see the wall of heat the hot summer had formed. He walked hunched over, the bread under his arm. Sweat dripped down his face, some of it ended up in his beard. Then he looked at the sky and saw the thunder. Dark clouds had arrived, the sun was gone.
Sinbad walked faster. He had moved the bread inside his clothing and kept it in place with his elbows. The wind grew stronger, raindrops fell. As if they were peas, they hit the dry ground. The king ran, the bread was the only thing on his mind. More thunder, the storm had begun.
Sinbad pressed the bread closer to his body, it started to stick against him. The forest in the front and the village behind him, had vanished. Rain filled the place, sandy holes were once again filled with water.
He stopped walking. The bread lay against his chest. He couldn't bring himself to look at it. He already knew what had happened. It was wet and started to dissolve.
He thought about Ja'far, about Aladdin who had accompanied them in high spirits. He pressed his arms closer to his body. He had to protect the only food he had seen in ages.
'I have to shelter it with my body, become a roof' he thought and sat down on the ground. 'I can't let the rain win.' He let his head hit the wet sand. He saw the bread in his shirt. It was wet, dirty and started to fall apart. As if he had been carrying a sponge the whole time. 'I'll wait,' he thought, 'I'll keep it safe until this is over.'
He was lying. He knew that. The bread wouldn't last more than five minutes. It would dissolve after that and flow away in one of the hundred puddles. It had already started, the rain flowed down his ribs and arms. With every drop crumbs fell down. The bread had once been big, but it was getting smaller now. Every second another piece fell off.
He understood he had a choice to make. He could try to go to Ja'far and give them what was left of the bread. Or he'd keep it to himself and eat it now. 'If I don't eat it, it'll be gone, I'll stay weak and all three of us will be dead, joining the other guys. But if I do eat it, I'll be the one with enough power to move on.' He thought. But soon he wasn't thinking it anymore. He said it out loud. He had to. If not, he would either give in to the voice in his head or the silence surrounding him. The air was still filled with clouds and a sign to have the rain stop falling wasn't present. But the king had no eyes for the sky. All he saw was the bread.
'Hunger' he thought 'hunger…' and 'bread', he could only think about the bread.
That was it.
He took the thing with both hands and pushed it together until it had formed a small round object. The water the bread had adsorbed earlier came out again. Sinbad took a bite, chewed and swallowed. On his knees, choking partially, he was an animal now. Like that he kept eating.
Time passed and when he was done eating, he stood up once again. The mud feel of his clothes, his eyes drifted around. Through the gray sky, the sun started to shine. The rain started to lessen, only a few drops and it would stop.
…
He walked through the forest for a while. A feeling of guilt ad fallen upon him, but there was no turning back now. With the sign he had left around, he could find his way back through the now muddy forest. The air was heavy with water. The caterpillars had enjoyed the rain and left their trees in a hurry.
Sinbad couldn't get himself to walk without a frequent break. His heart and lungs felt as if they would give out any second. But he had to continue, he had promised Ja'far.
He walked another three hours before he found his advisor again, sitting against a tree with the young magi in his lap. He walked towards them.
Ja'far laughed softly. "It's good to see you again."
"I didn't find anything." His king answered and set down.
"That's fine." Ja'far told him. He looked away.
'He almost seems dead…' Sinbad thought when he looked at him.
"You look tired," Ja'far said to him, "Try to sleep a little."
Sinbad nodded and stretched himself. "What's with the child? He's so quiet."
"He's tired." Was the answer.
Slowly Sinbad's breathing started to calm down and steadied itself to fall to a deep slumber.
"Are you asleep?" Ja'far asked him, but Sinbad didn't answer.
The caterpillars however, started to make their noises again.
…
When he woke up, he noticed Ja'far had laid down as well, but he wasn't asleep. His eyes were set on the sky. The magi lay at their feet, his body wrapped up in parts of Ja'far's official robe.
"What's wrong?" Asked Sinbad.
Ja'far didn't move at the sound of his voice. "He's dead." He said.
With those words, Sinbad sat up. "Dead… Dead?!"
"He died while you were asleep." His advisor answered.
"Why didn't you wake me up?"
"Why would I wake you?" Was the question he got in return.
For your information. I did not want to kill Aladdin, but I needed someone to be the Sinja child...