Hello, hello! First off I want to thank my beta readers MeikoKuran999 and Sakura Hyuga. Though, apparently there aren't nearly as many errors as I had originally thought xD. Still though, thank you so much! And to the people who have reviewed! I sorta forgot to respond to your lovely comments, that's not to say I haven't read them, because I have...several times. Thank you all so much! There was one thing mentioned though that got me thinking that I may not have properly specified when this is all taking place. I'm currently reading the manga, just read chapter 222, which recently came out. So if there's untranslated stuff that totally makes everything happening in this story impossible...just look at it as a semi-AU fic 8'D. So, generally speaking, this is supposedly taking place several months after Aladdin explained Alma Torran. Actually...yeah, I guess thinking about it now, this would be more semi-AU...but anyway...yeah OTL. If any of that makes any sense...that's basically how it goes...
Oh yes, and to further demonstrate my dorkiness...I whipped up some FC Judal concept doodles. May doodle some more, but anyway...they can be viewed on Deviantart under "BlackSunMagi".
10 Years Later
Sun hanging high in the sky, the desert sand stretching as far as the eye can see. The only signs of life were the many wagons, mules, horses, and camels that carried a large caravan across the seemingly vast wasteland. Having departed from Qishan only eight days ago, they were making their way to the coastal city of Balbadd to sell and trade their wares. A tricky business now when the most prominent form of currency was printed by the Kou Empire. Never the less, a living had to be made. But selling and trading wasn't all they did, it was common practice to also act as guides and transports for travelers. In this particular case, a young traveler had offered to pay for a ride to Balbadd.
Lazing in the canvas covered back of the lead wagon, a boy dressed in eastern style clothes looked to be sleeping rather heavily amongst the sacks of cotton and rolls of fine linens. This was evident by the prominent amount of drool soaking into the fabrics.
"Oi! Brat! Just because yer payin' for a ride don' mean you can drool all over ar' livelihood!" the caravan's leader had come in from the front, he was a large, older man with an overbearing presence. He grabbed the boy by the scruff of the neck, giving him a good shake, "You listenin'? Hey, wake up!"
"Hmmnng...shut up you old fart," the boy groaned, waving a hand dismissively, "Eh?" his eyes slowly opened, blinking lethargically in an attempt to will away the sleep still holding them down. The ruby red orbs lifted until they met with the face of the caravan leader, slight confusion written in them, but gradually returning to recognition, "Ah, oh...hey boss!" a bright and mischievous grin split the boy's face, "We almost there?"
Looking far from amused, the older man sighed though and let go, causing the boy to drop to the floor with a slight thud, "Yeah, we should reach Balbadd in a days time," he opened the flap that lead to the front, letting in the bright sun and the ungodly heat, "If ya wanna sleep, do it in one o' the passenger wagons. Ain' nobody want to buy wares with yo' drool stains all or' them." he held no ill will towards the boy, he'd proven to be a rather entertaining guest. But entertaining was not an invitation for him to do as he pleased.
The boy though just gave him a sour look; from being told off or having his well shaded sleeping space invaded by light and heat, was anybody's guess. Still, he just rubbed the back of his neck before combing his fingers through his long black hair. It was loose and draped over his shoulders and down his back, pooling out a bit against the wood floor. Were someone to only give him a passing glance, they would have easily mistaken him for a girl. An easy enough mistake, but it never failed to irritate him a little. His fingers would periodically catch on a knot, which he'd work out carefully. For as long as he could remember, he always felt the need to take very good care of his hair. Right now he felt a little miserable for having neglected it for as long as he had. Traveling in a desert did not leave much time for hair care. It was brittle to the touch, and days worth of dust, sand, and sweat had the tresses crying out for a good washing.
In this kind of weather, you were either highly devoted or down right insane to have hair as long as his. Black hair in particular since black retained heat more easily than brighter colors. So, to say the boy was over heating would be an understatement. Never the less, he had smoothed out the long strands enough to fold them into a simple braid. Yunan had taught him how...though the weirdo magician always insisted on doing more, any more than one would have only enhanced his slightly feminine features. Just thinking about the peculiar man made the boy sigh and lean back, letting his newly formed braid hang limply over one shoulder. He didn't have any ties to secure it properly so he tied his actual hair at the end, to keep it from coming loose. It would do in a pinch, but in its condition, this was ultimately damaging to the hair.
Eight days since he started his journey, but ten years he'd spent either wondering the wilderness or dwelling at the bottom of the great crevasse. Ten long years since he was found by Yunan, the man had told him his name was Judal but even now it didn't feel natural. It was a name he'd grown used to though, it was his name and it was who he was. There was something about it that still didn't sit well with him regardless. But his name was not the reason he'd thought about the wanderer. No, it was the fact that the crazy man had up and disappeared, he left without so much as a word. Left to his own devices, Judal found himself strangely lost. With all that Yunan had taught him, now that he was on his own and in need of utilizing his vast knowledge...again, the boy sighed.
In hindsight, this abandonment had provided an interesting opportunity. Their relationship felt like it had grown stagnant. Yunan had taught him how to read and write and even how to fight, but whenever he would ask about the fluttering, white, bird things, Yunan would say they were just that...birds. They weren't like any birds he'd seen, other people couldn't see them was one dead give away. Then, when he asked if he could learn magic, again...Yunan was dismissive. Whenever he thought Yunan wasn't looking though, he'd try to teach himself...while most times the spells backfired, he sort of grasped the concept.
That's when the wagon suddenly lurched to a halt. The horses whinnied and pawed at the sand, the sound of imposing voices could be heard just outside. Out of curiosity, Judal poked his head out to take a peek. They had reached the mouth of a rock formation and standing in front of the caravan was a vast number of rough looking people. The caravan leader had climbed down from his perch and appeared to be speaking with the leader of the band of...could these be thieves? Judal frowned and retreated back into the wagon. This was bad, these people were nice and to be subject to brigands didn't seem fair. There was also the little fact that if they were robbed, the chances of him getting to Balbadd would drop exponentially. Judal wasn't naïve though, this sort of thing happened more and more often nowadays. Still, it didn't feel right to just sit back and do nothing.
Shifting back to where he'd stashed his travel bag, the boy withdrew a wooden short staff. It was mostly smooth with the top carved into a rounded shape, there was a red stone embedded in the wood. A wand, he'd learned, helped focus magic and made it easier to use. He'd constructed this makeshift wand in hopes that it would help improve his own magic...having never had the chance to use it in a practical exercise, he figured now as as good a time as any. Gripping the body of the staff, Judal took a deep breath. In that moment rukh fluttered about the top of the wand, feeling the crackling of magic beginning to form, he grinned.
Rather than wait for an invitation, the boy slung his bag over one shoulder before jumping from the wagon. Momentarily struck by the heat, though recovering just as quickly, the first thing he noticed was that several of the other caravan residents had stepped out and was looking on nervously. Pushing his way to the front, Judal ordered up some thunder magic...or what he thought would be thunder magic. Before anybody, caravan or thieves, had time to realize what the boy was doing, their hair seemed to stand on end just seconds before a super charged bolt of static struck the ground. Or rather, had backfired and struck the boy who summoned it.
Having sent up a billow of dust, sand, and debris, it took a moment for everything to settle back down. The leader of the caravan and the presumed leader of the brigands were the first to recover; the large older man looked as though he were about to have kittens, his wagon and most of its wares had been destroyed. It only took a quick scan of the wreckage to locate the source of the destruction. Storming over, he grabbed a very staticy Judal by the back of the neck and hoisted him off the ground. Looking very frazzled, hair sticking up, dust and wool fibers sticking to him, his wand discarded and looking as though it had exploded; Judal just coughed.
"What in Heaven's name ar' ya doin'!? Lookit'! Ar' ya bloody mad boy?!" while he would never actually harm the boy, there were times when the youth made it very difficult to resist. This was one such case. "Now what am I suppose' ta sell? Hm?"
"S-sorry boss..." the boy coughed, "Thought I'd buy you some time to escape, those bandits don't look so," he coughed again, "...tough."
A stunned look had replaced the old man's anger, he sighed and shook his head, "Ah boy..." turning as footsteps approached from behind, Judal still in hand, the old man found himself face to face with the other leader. Judal though, took a moment to look over the thief. He was modestly dressed like many of the others, though it was clear by various materials, accessories, and colors that he was held at a higher standard than the others. The entirety of his head and face was wrapped in a turban, save for his eyes. They were narrow from what the boy could make out, and a stunning gilded hue.
"That was a surprise," the masked man said in a shockingly amused tone, Judal just stared, "Is everyone alright?"
"Aye, it depends on what ya mean by alright..." the old man grumbled, "I apologize fo' this brat, he's on his way ta Balbadd."
"Oh?" the other man looked towards the now sour looking boy, "and what business would he have in such a place?"
Judal frowned, his eyes narrowed just slightly, he said nothing though. However, the old man still holding him gave him a little shake, "Oi! That hurt!" the boy growled. This reaction made the younger of the leaders pause. He appeared to be staring more pointedly at Judal, the boy was a bit scrappy but something about him had caught the man by surprise.
"It's alright, if he doesn't want to tell me then it's fine," but that wasn't the end of it though, "perhaps, he could tell us his name?"
Again, Judal didn't say a word. He recalled something Yunan had told him a few months ago. Judal had asked why they didn't visit villages or cities, or rather...why he couldn't visit them. The man had said something about time having not fully healed certain wounds. None of that made any sense at the time, but now when asked for his name...he was reminded of that moment. Did his name have something to do with old wounds? Or rather, did he? That was impossible though, he hadn't done anything to cause such grudges...a few pranks here and there sure. But he got bored easily so he had to entertain himself somehow right?
"Ah, his name is Judal," the older male answered suddenly, both the boy and the other man noticeably bristled, "Now boy, why don' you go and help pick up yer mess eh?" he dropped the boy and gave him a playful yet dead serious shove.
The masked man hadn't taken his eyes off the boy though, he just watched as the other got to his feet. Studied the way he picked the wool from his clothes, dusted himself off, even how he tried to settle his hair back down. The boy's eyes though were what caught his attention first, still young, it was all in how he narrowed them that made this new found knowledge all the more surprising. Turning to the old man, "Where did you find him?" he asked quietly.
"Who? Him?" the old man chuckled, "Found him wanderin' round Qishan lookin' for a guide to Balbadd, why?" he had started picking up what was left of the linens he'd been transporting, most of the wool had blown away or was sticking to those too close to the so called blast site.
"And he didn't tell you why he wanted to go there?"
"Nope, though honestly, I don't think he knows either...the firs' couple o' days tha' boy didn' say a word," straightening his back, the old man looked over at Judal, "What are you getting at 'ere?
"Hmm...I'd like to speak with him, you and your caravan are welcome to spend the night as always," the younger male stated, "With that damaged wagon, you won't be going anywhere so you may as well rest a while."
"Oi, wait...do you know somethin' about that brat? Cause as far as I can tell, he's a good kid..."
The young man paused and looked at the old leader, he then looked towards Judal who was apparently being scolded by an older woman. He then looked back at his old friend, "I'm not sure, that's why I'd like to speak with him." and with that, he turned and waved to the others positioned in the rocks. They all had gone on high guard after the explosion but having gotten the all clear, they settled back down. Not waiting for any further instructions, they left their posts and started helping the caravan.
Several hours later, the sun was just below the horizon. Everybody had found themselves drawn into a festive reunion with old friends. Drinking, music, and dancing carried on and would carry on well into the night. Judal had situated himself away from all the festivities, preferring to hang around the impressive buffet table. There was an assortment of food and drink on display, a lot of it smelled spicy which made the boy's nose wrinkle. He completely ignored any dish that showed signs of vegetable contamination, which eventually lead to the desserts. Fruits and bakery were abundant, as well as foreign sweets. Much to his disappointment, there was a wide assortment of fruits but none of them were peaches. He'd always enjoyed peaches, though he honestly couldn't say what it was about them he liked so much. They did have a way of quenching one's thirst, maybe that was it, it was like food and drink all rolled into one.
His eye was drawn to some backed pies and cakes though, one of which smelled like... "Oh!"...peaches! Eyes now gleaming, he helped himself to the whole dish and was about to dive in when a hand suddenly grasped his shoulder. Out of surprise, the boy jumped, dropping the peach pie in the process.
"Damnit!" the curse slipped from his lips before he could stop it, but that wasn't the most important thing on his mind, no it was turning around and giving his attacker a swift kick in the shins. This didn't happen though, as Judal turned the one who had grabbed him had anticipated retaliation and had moved back just out of reach.
"Sorry," it was the man from before, the leader of this band of...well, they could still be bandits, "I'll have another one brought over, but first, I'd like to have a word with you."
Judal glared, but his stomach growled a second later, lip twitching slightly, the boy crossed his arms and huffed. However, the promise of a replacement peach pie turned out to be a good pacifier, prompting him to grab a dinner roll instead, "Sure, why not..." he shrugged before taking a bite.
The two excused themselves from the party. The make shift hide out had turned out to be quite an elaborate maze of tunnels. The rocky hills were filled with them, Judal having a terrible sense of direction had found himself lost only a few minutes in. Were it not for the fact that the man guiding him knew these tunnels well, he probably would have never found his way out. Still though, after about five minutes of walking, they reached what appeared to be living chambers. There were several along the walls of the tunnel, but the one they came to clearly belonged to this man. When the curtain covering the doorway was held back for him, Judal just gave the man a suspicious glare before entering.
After walking to the center of the room, Judal noticed a handful of things. The room itself wasn't overly decorated; there was a simple bed near the back, a desk with documents, books, and pens, as well as a few weapons decorating the carved out walls. One in particular caught his eye, it looked like a dagger...or what was left of a dagger. He turned though, as the man entered just moments after him.
"So...what did you want to talk about?"
It was the man's turn to say nothing. Instead, he started to unwrap the turban until the material fell away. Standing before him was a rather handsome man, perhaps in his middle to late twenties. His hair was a golden yellow, about shoulder length but was tied back with a simple hide string. It was neat enough though suffered from what appeared to be a chronic cowlick. He removed a large blade from his belt and set it down off to the side. There was something about this man that set off little flags in the boy's mind. He looked like a puzzle he ought to know the answer to and yet the answer was not there.
"That was magic you tried using back there, wasn't it?"
"Yeah, but I wasn't trying to hit the wagon," Judal replied slowly, though he smirked a second later, "I was trying to hit you."
"So, it is you then...Judal," the man's eyes narrowed dangerously, "After all these years, you came back and now you intend on killing me?"
That smirk Judal wore faded quickly, confusion spreading across his face quicker than wild fire, "Eh? What? I don't care about you," Judal stated quickly, "I thought you were going to rob the caravan."
The blonde man did not look whole heartedly convinced of this, but he kept a scrutinizing gaze on the boy. Could he be wrong? It's not as though the name Judal was exclusive to that Magi...but it couldn't be coincidence that this boy bares a very striking resemblance.
"Hey, what did you mean 'after all these years,' I came back?" the boy asked, breaking the other from his thoughts, "Cause I think I'd remember a cowlicked loser."
There wasn't a doubt in his mind, this boy was absolutely the Judal he remembered...sort of...he rubbed the back of his head. It hadn't been his original intention to start any kind of fight, or to let his personal feelings run away with him. But as it seems, that's exactly what was happening. So, in spirit of keeping things civil, he sighed and took a seat at his desk.
"You reminded me of someone I knew many years ago," he answered finally, "He was a Magi," he looked towards the boy, "Do you know what that is?"
"A Magi?" Judal tilted his head from side to side, thinking it over, "Hmmm, the old man had given me a book that mentioned that word."
"Old man? You mean..."
"No, I mean the idiot old man," Judal interrupted, "you know...Yunan."
The blonde suddenly shot to his feet, startling Judal once again, "You've met with Yunan?!"
Leaning away from the other, Judal just eyed him with renewed suspicion. Shifting his weight, he gave a small nod, "Yeah, I was traveling with him pretty much my entire life, up until a few days ago," the boy took a small step back, "Then he disappeared, so what?"
Sitting back down, the man looked to have come to some sort of realization. He set those thoughts aside for a moment, "Did he say anything before disappearing?"
"Nope, hey...who was this person I reminded you of? Did they want to kill you too?" Judal asked, having grown bored of talking about Yunan.
The other just rubbed his mouth slowly while leaning back in his seat. He glanced off to the side, "Yeah, he did...but he died."
"Oh, so then it's obviously not me, besides...you're like...almost an old fart," Judal grinned, "so this guy would be an old fart too and as you can see...I'm not an old fart like you so whatever you're thinking, it's wrong."
It made an odd sort of sense in the man's head, but having spent time around a number of Magi in his life time, expecting things to be normal about them was a notion he had long since put out of his mind. One had lived for over two hundred years, another had died and was reborn nine times, some even came from other worlds...so the idea that this was THAT Judal was still possible. Judal and died, could he have been reborn? If so, was he reborn a Magi? Why would someone like him be reborn at all? This boy didn't know anything apparently...his magic backfired so it's possible he doesn't have the same aptitude for it. That would be ironic.
"Hey, your brooding is really annoying," the boy spoke up again, "Besides, here I am telling you all this stuff, but you haven't told me who the hell you are anyway..."
Turning his cool, golden, eyes onto the demanding boy, the man just stared long and hard at him. He then slowly got to his feet and held out his hand, "I'm Alibaba Salujah, third prince and representative of the Republic of Balbadd."