This fanfiction appeals to a juxtaposition of three main ideas (speculative theories), due to the lack of information we've been given thus far:

1) Sinbad is in no way invincible, though he is capable of appearing that way despite his obvious flaws. He is given a fear of failure when he is not the only life at stake, but he is capable of hiding it, and also has a mild fear of public speaking that, in the end, he can overcome.

2) Ja'far, in his earlier years, was capable of showing affection, but nonetheless was abrasive, sarcastic, and at times, violent. This attitude is carried over now into the present, where he can snap at times when he, or more notably Sinbad, are under duress. This fiction works to give a possible explanation for his change in attitude, and why at times he is still subject to anger and mercilessness.

3) The relationship between these two is shown here to be a mixture of friendship, loyalty, and the love that is inherent and spawns from both of those things. It is meant to be a product of many years filled with experiences, including the dangers that Sinbad and his generals have endured, and the construction of the kingdom of Sindria. It is not, however, meant to be like an "affair", which would suggest something completely secretive, discouraged, and sex-driven. Rather, their inner relationship (for a lack of better words) isn't open to the public eye, but wouldn't be seen as outrageous in the eyes of those closest to them. This theory based on speculations made about the time periods and places that the world of Magi is meant to mimic.

The most important thing about this fanfiction is the contrast between the beginning and end, and how while the attitudes of the characters have progressed over time, they still share strong bonds that adapt just as readily as the characters themselves.

A note on the time period and setting (this is arbitrary due to a severe lack of information, especially regarding when Masrur was added to the troupe): This progresses from many years before, during Sinbad's early 20s (approx 20-21) , Ja'far's late-teens (about 16-17), and Masrur's early teens (about 12-13), to the present, sometime after meeting Aladdin, Alibaba, and Morgiana. Meanwhile, the first two parts take place somewhere along the coast of Balbadd and northeastward along the coast. The last part takes place in Sindria.

Last note: From the information we do have, it is said that Sinbad founded Sindria after conquering his first dungeon, Baal (14 years prior to the present, around age 16). This fic suggests that the idea of the kingdom itself was conjured, but the actual nation had not yet come to fruition. So, the beginning two parts encompass parts of the planning process for the country.

The room was lukewarm, the furnishings, incongruous and mysterious. Swords lined the walls on haphazard fixings and shivered with each step Sinbad took across the creaking wooden floor. His shoes caught a few times in the rippled fabric of a dusty old rug, and each time he felt his heart leap up from his chest into his collar, where sweat collected in the summer heat. His stomach curdled under the scrutiny of anxiety and an intense hunger that had plagued him and his friends for days in the desert. His hands ran through his long and messy hair, quickly finding themselves running circles inside of his earrings: Why am I so nervous? This shouldn't be that hard.

The youth that normally flared in his eyes and the adventurous spirit that inhabited his words dulled under his pulse's violent assault against his resolve. He was Sinbad, a charismatic and invincible sailor who had brought a few dungeons under his wing. What did he have to worry about?

Ja'far rested with his back against an opposing wall with his arms crossed and a white keffiyeh balled up on the floor. His loosely-fitting beige clothing swayed with the small draft from outside, and he observed the boy from beneath the many flickering candle lights, slowly concentrating all movement to that of his eyes, and his eyes only. Bloodshot and judgemental, they refused to let the sailor out of their sights. After giving a growl from the back of his throat, the temperamental ally gave himself the pleasure of a sly grin, cackling, "What's your problem?"

"Nothing," Sinbad stopped his incessant walking and stared at him, "nothing at all."

Ja'far motioned him over with his hand, rolling his eyes a bit. "C'mere."

With the power of his self-meditation, the sound of his friend's heartbeat had been more than obvious to his careful ears. It was clear, but nonetheless, paranoid. He needed to calm Sinbad before their meeting with the proclaimed fortune teller: His advice on their future was imperative, and in no way was Ja'far going to let Sinbad's sudden unexpected cowardice jeopardize the chance they had with meeting with a willing Magi-though this one would not have been their first choice. Bygones would have to be bygones, if they wanted to follow in the Kou Empire's footsteps and succeed.

The assassin set a hand on Sinbad's shoulder and gave him an unruly stare as the body under his touch lurched.

"You cannot be afraid. It's not an option. You're never like this." he said, cupping his hand along the sailor's jugular, only to receive another wide-eyed look of shock.

"Your heart's going to beat out of your chest, Sin. We don't have a lot of time. What the hell's got you caught up in your own mind?" the hoarseness of Ja'far's voice back then never failed to light Sinbad off like a fuse to a barrel of explosive powder. Something about how intimidating it was, even in it's condensed quietness-which made it inexplicably terrifying when it was raised-made his breath stall and his mind go blank. All he could do to avoid being belittled by it sometimes was to intensify his own volume.

"Maybe I'm not cut out for running an entire kingdom, have you ever thought of that, Ja'far?"

Ja'far didn't move, blink, or breathe. He just stared with a stationary glare and waited a moment to watch Sinbad's eyes fill with tears.

"What makes you think I could orchestrate the lives of thousands of people?!" yelled Sinbad, his voice cracking. "People are born into royalty. They don't crawl from the depths of an ocean, covered in the shit of the sea! Don't ask me what's wrong, when you already know. Don't ask me why I'm acting this way-because you should know!" tears began to stream down his face, tapping the floor on their way down. Ja'far still said nothing.

"I'm not like you. I'm fueled by emotion. It feeds my fire, my passion. Sometimes after so long, it gets to me, ok? Sometimes it's a little much to ask a child to protect an entire village, let alone a country that has only begun!"

Ja'far's grip tightened a bit as Sinbad's hands rolled into shaking, hot iron-hard fists. He let out a slow exhale through his nose and forced his hand up to grip the boy's jaw. His stare had Sinbad's nose crinkled in anger and his teeth bared.

"Are you so weak as to let something so insignificant and inconsequential scare you right now? These people, as you said, do not yet exist. You haven't eaten for days. Are you weak, Sinbad?" he pulled a little closer, getting his face within inches of the other's heaving breaths as he punctuated the name.

"I am not weak." growled Sinbad, who separated each word with laced spite. "I can overcome anyone, because I will conquer these seas. I can defeat anyone who intercepts my path. The only thing I cannot imagine, are countless faces staring at me, expecting me to do the right thing! Is that so hard to understand?"

"Prove your worth, then. If even I frustrate you so much, how are you going to protect your subjects?" Ja'far's voice climbed in volume and he pulled Sinbad's tunic roughly with his other hand. His strategy was going into effect. "Prove that you're not a fucking coward!"

That shrill, abrasive voice, shelving its harshest point like a hive of bees upon an intruder, tipped the waters, and Sinbad's determination spilled out, spreading into nothing: his thoughts froze. He couldn't risk fighting this person, because in this unruly, starving state, he would undoubtedly lose at the hand of someone much calmer than he. How could he take someone by surprise who was incapable of being caught off guard? A few seconds passed as the sounds in the room echoed in a void of fiery anger.

"How are you going to do this if-" Ja'far was interrupted by something even he could not have expected.

His irises constricted as his spine was crashed back against the wall, his limited breath fleeing from his lungs. The lights blurred-Sinbad's lips, tainted by the smell of salt, locked into his-their teeth met for a second, grating. By the time his wires were crossed, their sharp sides meeting readily against the back of the boy's neck in a show of sparks, a tongue was pressed against his own. He tensed his body for a moment, only to limpen and give in, standing motionless in a dizzy, timeless moment. When he felt his wires slipping from his fingers, he snapped back into reality and recoiled with a satisfied smile. He grunted and shrugged.

"Not bad."

"Bite me." Sinbad whispered, stepping away and turning his back, knowing the battle was over. Ja'far wiped his lips with his arm and crouched down, admiring the spots of blood.

"If you want."

"Shut up."

"You failed," said Ja'far, "you can't let anything get to you. You can't lose focus when someone infuriates you, Sin. You've failed a crucial test." he stood and crossed his arms again, mending his brief lapse in concentration with another piercing stare and a return to a lower, quieted voice.
"I don't care, you hypocrite. As far as I'm concerned, I passed my own test. I'm not afraid anymore," boomed the sailor. He turned back around to face his friend and occasional adversary, standing tall with his hands on his hips. The youth flooded back into his eyes, and a sneering smile mapped his face as a few drops of blood broke from his lips and ran down his chin.

A door creaked open by a sliver, sending a ray of light up over Sinbad, landing its way to the center between Ja'far's penetrating eyes. A mocking voice, male and saturated with entitlement, said: "Hurry it up. I've got other things to do, you know."

Ja'far gave Sinbad a sigh and a nod, and they proceeded into their future.