Chapter 2
A/N: I realize the first chapter is pretty slow, so I will present this chapter earlier than expected.
DISCLAIMER: Everything, sans the OCs, belong to Disney.
I'm dead.
She blinked up into the darkness. She couldn't see anything. She couldn't hear anything. She couldn't feel anything.
I must be dead.
She swallowed and winced at the burning sensation in her throat. She let out a groan that came out as more of a raspy cough. She slowly moved her head from side to side, testing her mobility. She tried to move her legs, but let out a hiss of pain. It felt like she had rug burns up and down not just her legs, but her entire body.
"You're awake."
Instinctively, Amira tried to sit up.
"Don't move."
Amira tried to speak, but her mouth was dry and her tongue felt heavy.
"You're safe."
Amira felt a ladle brought to her lips before water was dripped into her mouth. She felt the effects immediately. She moved towards the ladle trying to drink as much as she could.
"Not so fast." A hand gently pushed her away from the ladle.
"Who -" Amira coughed again as feeling returned to her mouth. "Who are you?"
A light appeared in the dark. Amira squinted at the brightness of the light. Slowly, her eyes adjusted to the light and she saw a familiar face.
"You-you're the man in the marketplace," she exclaimed sitting up, but immediately regretted it as the burn in her body set in again.
"Phasir," the old man said, setting the candle on the bedside.
Amira looked around at her surroundings. She was in a simple, one room shack sitting on a straw mat.
"I found you lying in the sand," Phasir said bringing a small container of what looked like lotion. "You were in pretty bad shape too."
Phasir applied the lotion to Amira's legs. A cool sensation replaced the burning one, much to Amira's relief.
"What were you doing out in the sandstorm?" Amira asked Phasir. "I don't believe a man of your age could have survived out there."
"There's a lot of things not to believe," said Phasir. "Remember, looks can be deceiving. You, of all people, should know."
Amira shut her mouth. She was supposed to be in Agrabah by now with Aladdin, getting the fortune their mother had told them about.
"Aladdin! Where's Aladdin?"
She stood up fast, knocking the medicine out of Phasir's hand. She stumbled forward on to her hands and knees, her legs not yet strong enough. She cried out, feeling the pain in her arms. She felt Phasir settle beside her and apply the medicine to her burning arms.
"Phasir, where's Aladdin?" Amira asked quietly.
"I did not find him."
Amira stood.
"No." Amira shook her head. "No, that's not true."
"I saw no sign of him," said Phasir calmly.
"I've got to search for him," she said quietly. "He's out there. I know he must be-"
"Amira."
Amira felt her legs give out beneath her again. She fell to the floor, but made no attempt to get up. She tightened her mouth and squeezed her eyes shut, willing the hard truth to go away.
Her brother was gone. Her best friend was gone. The only family she had left was gone.
Phasir placed a comforting hand on her back and offered her another drink of water which she refused.
"You have to drink more," Phasir said firmly.
Amira lifted the ladle to her lips with shaking hands and drank it down.
"Where am I?" she asked in steady voice.
"You are in the Land of the Black Sands," said Phasir taking the ladle away from her.
"Black Sands?" Amira repeated. "My mother once told me about the Black Sands. It's ruled by a man named Destane, isn't it?"
"Not anymore. Not for a long time." Phasir shook his head. "His apprentice usurped him and now he rules. He may be young, but he is powerful."
"Wait. How am I still alive if I'm in the Black Sands?" Amira asked. "I thought that all trespassers were taken prisoner."
"If they find you first," said Phasir.
"What am I supposed to do here anyway?" Amira huffed. "I'm supposed to be in Agrabah by now."
"Agrabah?" Phasir looked up. "The new ruler makes frequent trips to Agrabah. He was betrothed to the Princess of Agrabah for quite some time, you know."
"Was?"
"The Sultan of Agrabah recently died and the Princess promptly called off the engagement." Phasir explained. "The sorcerer is trying harder than ever to win her favor back."
"How do you even know all this? Why are you telling me this?" Amira asked, confused. "I have no interest in royalty."
"Ah, but he is your ticket to Agrabah," Phasir pointed out.
"Something tells me Mr. Dark Lord here doesn't just transport people back and forth for free," Amira muttered, running a hand through her hair.
Amira couldn't just walk up and knock on this guy's front door and ask for a one way trip to Agrabah. That would be completely insane.
"He's trying to win the Princess back?" Amira thought aloud. "Does he need help with that?"
"You're on the right track," Phasir said patiently.
Amira exhaled. Even if he did need help with that, the ruler of a great land would most likely not accept help from a woman. She ran her hand through her long hair again before the thought struck her.
"Phasir, I need your help."
X.X.X
Aladdin.
Amira stared into the mirror that Phasir held in front of her. She wasn't looking at herself. She was looking at her brother, her now deceased brother. Her hand went up to feel her hair, or what was left of it. Most of it lay in piles on the floor.
Phasir seemed to be prepared for anything. He had produced a mirror and scissors when she had asked for it. He also had provided her a long piece of cloth. When she had asked what it was for, Phasir promptly pointed at her chest. Phasir seemed a little too prepared.
"Looks can be deceiving," Phasir repeated as Amira stared at her reflection.
"I'll say," she exhaled, running her hand through her hair once more. "Now, how do I meet this 'Lord'?"
X.X.X
The Land of the Black Sands was certainly dark. Amira could barely make out where she was going and there wasn't exactly anyone she could stop and ask for directions either. The city was dead. All the houses were closed up and the curtains drawn. Amira couldn't hear any life from inside the houses. She briefly wondered if anyone lived in the Black Sands.
The blind man had pointed her in a direction and she could only hope she was still heading in that direction. Amira had to wonder who this man truly was. There was something off about him, like he knew more than he let on. Initially, she did not want to trust him, but it seemed she had no choice. The blind man had saved her, but why? And how on earth did he find her in the middle of the desert?
She pulled out the piece of parchment that Phasir had given her. She was instructed to give this to the ruler. How a blank piece of parchment from a mysterious blind man was supposed to secure her a job, she had no idea.
"Ow."
Amira took a step back, rubbing her head. She looked up and found herself face-to-face with a giant set of mahogany doors. This had to be the Citadel that Phasir spoke of. She looked right and then left. It was definitely a great fortress. Towering, dark walls surrounded the Citadel giving it even more of an ominous feel.
"I think I'd rather work for the Princess of Agrabah right about now," Amira muttered surveying the large structure anxiously. She could turn back now. No one had greeted her and there was no one around to see her. She could leave and find her way to Agrabah herself. However, she had no food or water for the journey. Not to mention, she had no idea where the Black Sands was on a map.
I've got nothing to lose.
Casting away any lingering doubt, she raised her hand and pounded on the door. She bit back a yelp of surprise when the gates opened by themselves. She slowly walked in past the gates. The building itself was even more intimidating. She stared up at it. The only proof that someone lived here was the light that shone in the top of the highest tower.
SLAM
Amira whipped around. She was breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that the sound was the work of two men who had closed the doors.
"Excuse me, but could you tell me how I wou-" Amira's speech trailed off as the two "men" shuffled towards her.
Those were not men. Were they even human? Their skin was a grotesque grey and pale blue color that hung loose on their faces and bodies. Their eyes were glassy with a sickening shade of yellow. And the smell? It smelled of rotting corpses.
One of them let out what sounded like a groan.
"What?"
Without any warning, both of them each grabbed one of Amira's arms. She immediately pushed one off. The dead creature fell to the ground, but it's arm remained holding on to Amira's. It took all her strength not to gag. The creature got up and took its place next to her. The grand doors to the Citadel opened and Amira prepared to meet the master of this fortress.
"What mamluks bring?"
The voice was high pitched and not what was expected of a ruler of a kingdom. Amira looked up to see not a man, but an eel. A flying eel. She shook her head in disbelief. Surely the ruler was not an eel.
The so-called mamluks grumbled something and one of them jabbed her in the stomach.
"Hey, watch it!" Amira glared at the corpse, but quickly averted her gaze not wanting to stare into the yellow eyes.
"Alive human!" The eel circled around Amira, studying her with its mismatched eyes.
"I've come to speak with the ruler here," Amira stated in the most steady and masculine voice she could muster.
"Business?" The eel questioned her.
"I offer my services."
"Need no help."
"Not even with the Princess of Agrabah?"
The eel stopped and studied Amira's face. With a flick of its tail, the eel headed back into the Citadel.
Much to her surprise, the other creature started pulling Amira towards the doors of the fortress. The inside was even greater than the outside. It was ornately furnished with a sort of gothic appeal to it. Like the kingdom, it was almost pitch black inside except for the torches that lined the walls.
"Well, well, well, what have the mamluks brought me today, Xerxes?"
A young man - barely older than Amira herself - lounged on a grand throne. He had a bored expression on his slender, pale face. Something told Amira that he didn't change his expression very often.
"Human boy." The eel, Xerxes, floated towards the man and encircled his shoulders.
"I've no use for a live boy." The man's eyes swept over Amira. "A dead one, perhaps."
Amira gulped.
"Boy offer help," said Xerxes, "with Princess."
The ruler's eyes widened briefly at this before recovering his expressionless mask. He gracefully stood from his throne and strode down to where Amira stood. Staring up at him, Amira figured that he was at least a head taller than her and perhaps even thinner.
"How do you know of this?" he demanded, pacing around her.
"Someone told me," Amira said unsure of whether or not she was supposed to spill Phasir's name.
"I'm afraid that answer's not going to cut it," the sorcerer said in an amused tone. "What a waste, you look like such a healthy boy. Mamluks, take him to the dungeon. It would appear this boy would like to join yo-"
"What!?" Amira cried out. "Me? Become one of them?"
"You waltz into Black Sands." Xerxes let out a wheezy laugh. "What you expect?"
The ruler waved the corpses off and turned back towards his throne. The mamluks began to pull her out of the throne room, but Amira broke away along with another mamluk limb stuck to her. She pulled it off quickly, shuddering.
"Wait!" she grabbed the sorcerer by his shoulder.
The sorcerer whirled around and sent Amira flying backwards. Fortunately, Amira was used to being air born thanks to the royal guards and whatnot. She agilely rolled on the floor before jumping to her feet in an defensive stance.
"You're nimble on your feet aren't you?" the sorcerer said with a tone that Amira could only hope was intrigue.
"Your Lordship - or whatever they call you here - I offer you my services as your pageboy. I can perform any task."
"I told you, I have no use for a street rat like you," the sorcerer said impatiently.
"I have a note!" Amira fumbled with her vest and drew out the blank parchment Phasir sent her.
Xerxes floated over and snatched it from her with his mouth. He dropped it in his master's open hand.
The sorcerer stared intently at the parchment as if there was actually something printed on it. He looked up at Amira and narrowed his eyes.
"How do you know the blind prophet, boy?" he asked suspiciously.
"P-prophet?" Amira stuttered. "Phasir?"
"Yes, him."
"I just met him on the streets one day." Amira shrugged. Since when was Phasir a Prophet?
The eel stared at his master awaiting orders, but his master seemed rapt in thought. Amira stood silently to the side awaiting her fate.
"What's your name?"
"My name is Am-" Amira coughed. Phasir forgot to prepare her for this. "Ali! My name is Ali."
"Xerxes, escort Ali to the East Wing."
"That not mamluk win-"
A gloved hand curled around the eel's throat.
"The East Wing," the sorcerer repeated firmly before releasing Xerxes.
Amira breathed a sigh of relief. She was not going to be a corpse, not today at least.
"If I am to serve you, I should know your name as well," said Amira boldly.
"You come asking to be employed, yet don't know your employers name?" the sorcerer let out an amused scoff.
Amira raised an eyebrow, waiting for the reply.
"You may call me Lord Mozenrath."
A/N: Thanks for reading! R&R if you want more
Questions answered in the next chapter: What did happen to Aladdin? How will Amira fare in the Black Sands? Why do the mamluks have stitches?