"I wonder..." The man was on his feet, leaned by the window. "Why is it that all your tales seem to trickle back to people leaving behind who they once were? The lost prince, the man who wanted to become king, the girl who wanted to leave behind her repugnant lover..."
Sinbad's brow knitted. "Coincidence, honestly. It makes for a good story, doesn't it?"
The man shrugged. "It was just an observation. I wondered if it was because you wanted to just sail away from your problems, or maybe that you wish you could wash away your own past."
Sinbad sucked in a breath, staring at the man who wore his dearest friend's face. "I… That is to say…" He didn't have an answer to the accusation, and a silence stretched between them. The man stared back at him, patient, waiting.
Sinbad was not the first one to look away. "Like I said, it was just an observation. Though maybe you do have some guilt over your actions if the thought makes you so uncomfortable that it actually shuts you up."
"One more story," Sinbad said softly.
"Can you delay the dawn the way you've delayed me?"
"One more," he pleaded. "And I swear this one is true. Trust me, Ja'far. You'd know if it were lies."
The man did not look back at Sinbad, but his shoulders stiffened. "They're coming for you at sunrise, Sin. Make it quick."
"Once, there was a boy. A foolish, brave boy, from a village by the sea, who lost his father and mother to the cruelties of fate. A boy who thought himself a man far too soon, who built an empire on stories and promises and lies and friendships, and who flew so high that he became the sort of person who could do the things he had hated when he was low." Sinbad rose, his chains clanking against each other as he slowly crossed to the window. "But he was lucky, for before he grew those wings that took him so high, he met someone who was truly loyal, someone who loved him enough to stop him if he ever became the sort of crooked person he so hated." Sinbad looked out the slat of the window, not at the man. "And one day, the time came that fortune reversed, and the boy, now a man, stood to face his death in a tall tower. But he was grateful, in a fashion, to know that the thing that came to guide him from this world to the next wore the face of his truest friend." He swallowed tightly. "I don't know what happens after that. After this."
Ja'far laughed and shook his head, finally looking over at Sinbad. "And even in the very end you can't tell the whole truth."
Sinbad laughed too, the affectionate sound in Ja'far's voice an oasis in the desert of his uncertainty. "I guess I'm just a showman at heart. Though, I think I was very honest."
"In comparison." Ja'far forced his face back to a more neutral expression and looked out at the skyline. "The sun is rising. You should have been gone by now."
"Do you really think you can kill me?"
"I always told you I would have your back, Sin." Ja'far's tone was perfectly neutral, a diplomat's speech. "And that if you ever became something you hated, that I would stop you."
Sinbad saw the flash before he saw the blade, and that gave him all the signal he needed to throw up his manacles in defense. The rope dart snagged, and Sinbad twisted, yanking hard. Ja'far let the line go slack and lept back, but Sinbad did not release the dart. He gripped the line in his hand, freeing his chains, and ducked when the second came sailing at his head. Ja'far swore, and Sinbad yanked again on the line, dashing in to close the gap. Distance was death.
Ja'far swung a hand up, and the dart clutched in it raked up Sinbad's off arm, loosing an arc of blood. Sinbad didn't stop though, and they collided, falling backwards into the table. It flipped with a crash, and they hit the ground badly, half spread over the table and half on the hard stone floor. Sinbad's mouth found Ja'far's, and they kissed with the passion of old rivals. Ja'far bucked, kicking his legs up between them and pushing Sinbad off. The blow knocked the wind out of Sinbad, and he lay sprawled on the floor, bleeding and gasping.
Sinbad clutched the line of Ja'far's dart as tight as he could, but he knew it would do no good. The second dart was still in Ja'far's hands as he stood, wiping blood and spittle from the corner of his mouth with the back of his free hand.
"I'm sorry, Sin," he said, sounding genuinely remorseful, "but tonight King Sinbad dies."
The flash of steel came before Sinbad could find his wind again, before he could react, and he watched the dart sail at his head.
But the killing blow didn't come. The dart thunked into the stone just in front of Sinbad's face, and Ja'far strode after it, bending down over Sinbad. "Don't move." He roughly grabbed Sinbad's ponytail and raked the dart through it, and then the shorn hair disappeared into the folds of Ja'far's clothes. Then Ja'far's hands were on him, yanking his hand up by the manacle and inserting a thin metal rod into the keyhole until there was a dull clinking noise, and it fell away into Ja'far's hand. He did the same for the other shackle, and then he pressed a key into Sinbad's hand. Sinbad could feel a dumb look sitting on his face, but after a sleepless night of bad wine and desperate tales, he could not find the words to explain what was happening. Ja'far looked smug at his speechlessness. "I told you from the beginning, Sin. I came here to make you disappear." He looked around at the room. "I think that wound of yours has bled enough to make a convincing murder scene." He ripped off his outer cloak- more a winding of wide cloth than a proper defense against the elements- and wrapped it tight around Sinbad's wounded arm. "You can walk still, right?"
Sinbad could feel the coldness of shock setting in, both from his wound and from his confusion. "I- yes- but?" He laughed mirthlessly, staring up at Ja'far in utter bewilderment. "King Sinbad dies tonight?"
Ja'far took that as agreement enough to haul Sinbad to his feet. "They'll come in to quite the scene. Their 'star prisoner' dead by a mysterious assassin, the body spirited away. A fitting end. And you," he said, producing the key he'd used to gain entry to the room and opening the door once again, "can have some time to think about what you've done while we keep our heads down for a while somewhere far from here. What do you say?"
Sinbad laughed, the feeling of confusion and incredulity still rattling him a bit. "Well when you put it like that, dying sounds like a fabulous adventure indeed."
