A small spot of light stained the darkness of the floor as the child cowered in the corner of the room. The light was bad. The light meant anything from the outside could get in. The light meant the shopkeeper was coming.
So she stared at it, waiting for it to get bigger, for it to become too bright for her to look at so she knew what was happening. The only good thing about the light was this.
The light kept the shadows away.
The sun felt best in the mornings. Not nearly hot enough to make her sweat under the layers of cloth, the cowl and the harem pants she wore, but enough to caress her face, her arms, with gentle warmth. Right now, she could sit, could let the warmth melt everything else away. It was her day off, the one day a week she had to herself. She wouldn't waste it.
The window space she sat in had the best view of the sun. The apartment it belonged to had the best view of the city. Of the happenings below, merchants calling out to sell their goods, people haggling with said merchants, children running about, and of the gilded palace that overlooked it all, the onion-shaped domes almost too bright to look at.
She let out a sigh. The morning was almost over, and she had things she needed to do. She swung her legs over into the apartment and landed in a crouch. She felt the vibrations as soon as her feet touched the floor. Immediately, she pressed her palm into the cold stone. The vibrations in the floor pulsed against it. She could hear the sound a few seconds later. Pat, pat, pat. Her hands reached slowly for the dagger strapped to her back, the throwing knife in her boot.
The stranger entered the apartment a second later. A cowl covered his head, his face. She could see only his dark eyes. She stayed in the shadows of the apartment, willing them to conceal her, their essence to mask her. She stared down at the line of sunlight shining through the window space. She was careful not to touch it. As far as the stranger was concerned, no one was in here. As long as she stayed within the shadow, it'd stay that way.
The boy turned, and she could see a snake of tribal black ink stand out against the boy's copper skin. Thick, swirling scales wrapping around, and traveling up his right forearm, the head ending at his elbow. Strong, angular, meant to be seen. The antithesis to the Mark it crossed over.
It caught the sun as he turned, the amber lines subtle, thin, shimmering like light in water, its head opposite the head of ink. It's long body rose and fell. Like it was alive. The Mark he was born with. The Mark of a Naga.
In the next second, the stranger's dark eyes flashed bright amber, his narrow pupils splitting them in two as he scanned the room. She knew those eyes. Immediately, she relaxed. She stepped out of the shadows, sheathing her dagger. Knives flew from the boy's hands as soon as she did. She dodged them by a hairsbreadth, and returned with the knife from her boot, and the knife from her other boot.
On instinct, the boy's forearm shot up to guard his face, a gauntlet of impenetrable scales replacing the skin that'd once been there, all in under a second. A yowl came from the boy. The knife hit its target. Immediately, he brought his arm down, his stance bracing him for an attack, until…
"Amara?". He relaxed as soon as he saw her. She gave the boy a smirk, a hand on her hip.
"Your reflexes are getting slower, Mena".
"Screw you! You could've taken my eye out," he said. He yanked his cowl off and inspected his arm, the line of blood reaching his hand.
"You threw first!".
"To be fair, I didn't know it was you,". He sat his pack down and pulled a cloth from it to clean the blood off.
"How could you not sense it was me?". Amara tried to keep the worry out of her voice. At the very least, he should've been able to sense something in the room, even if she'd been hiding in the shadows of the apartment.
"Your signature gets all screwy when you do your creepy shadow thing," he said. Okay, so he had been able to sense her.
"It's called Cloaking, genius," Amara shot back, walking over to him. Similar to their smaller counterparts without a human form, Naga could see the heat everything gave off, could sense when someone or something was near. Far, if they were seeking. Everyone had a different vibe, signature if you will, unique to them.
"Whatever," Mena said. He stuck his tongue out at her. Amara's eyes rolled and reached behind him to pick up her knife, stealing a glance at the boy. Mena seemed to react only after she'd stepped out of the shadow, only after she'd stopped Cloaking. She shook her head. It was probably nothing.
"I swear, this is gonna take days to heal," Mena muttered under his breath.
"You'll survive". Mena shot her a glare, then continued to rub his wound vigorously with a cloth from his pack, like he was trying to erase it. He wasn't wrong. Had he been hit with iron or steel, he'd have healed within seconds. The knife she'd thrown wasn't made of iron or steel.
"Okay. Okay, hey- stop. You're doing it wrong," she laughed. He gave her another eye roll as he handed her the cloth, but he seemed to be glad for it as they took a seat on the ground. She grabbed the flask from his pack and poured water all over his cut, washing off the extra blood.
"So what are you doing up here?" she asked.
"Amir sent me to see what was taking so long with your errands".
"I've only been up here for 20 minutes. How long does he think it takes to buy herbs?".
"His dad's been on his case. Way more than usual lately. He's been stressed,".
"The Ascension?". Mena gave a nod. There hadn't been one since the king's. For a crown prince like Amir, it was definitely the event of the century.
"If he's so stressed, why'd he send you?," Amara laughed. The smile Mena gave was infectious, playful, made even more so by the teeth he flashed and a pair of dimples.
"Excuse you" Mena said. "I am an esteemed member of the Prince's Cadre. I am a pillar of responsibility".
"Yeah and Ehsan doesn't have a stick so far up his ass he can't even walk straight," Amara said. Mena snorted. She could see it now. The boy in question yanking his hair out, the vein on his neck bulging. "I'm surprised he even let you up here".
"He's my brother, not my dad. Besides, what makes you think I told him?".
"Fair point," she said. No doubt Ehsan would have words to say when they got back. Amara began to dab a salve on Mena's cut, and finished by wrapping a strip of cotton from her own pack around it.
"Okay, that salve should speed up the healing process. We might need to change the wrapping again, but there shouldn't be any scarring after that. And for the love of Manasa, wear your gauntlets next time," she said. They did in fact have actual gauntlets, leather ones if for some reason they couldn't summon their snake skin. Mena seldom wore them if he didn't have to. The way he explained it, he wanted to tap into his Cobra as much as possible.
"Aye, aye," he said, lazily saluting her. He chuckled as she threw his cowl at him.
"Come on, you're gonna love the city," Amara said.
Mena's face lit up, that infectious, toothy smile taking over. She pulled the hood of her cowl over her head, and he followed suit. Within a few minutes, they were on the ground, the sun rising to midday.
Ben was nervous.
Should he have been nervous? Maybe. It'd been two weeks since the proposal. The second week hadn't been that bad. In the second week, everything had been made official. The paperwork had been signed, the logistics had been figured out, and the preparations would continue. It was the first week that had Ben needing a stiff cup of Earl Grey tea.
It'd been a long week. When he'd first announced his proposal to the counsel, more than a few choice words had been said. Blasphemy! Insanity! Foolish! To name a few. They told him he was too young to know the dangers of letting Isle citizens roam free, and that was just letting a few kids come over.
His father had the good sense to know it was a bad idea, that's what they told him. His father also had the good sense to try and move forward, that's what he'd countered with. And with a quick prompting from Belle, his father agreed with the sentiment. And once they'd seen that Ben had the support of King Adam and Queen Belle, they'd yielded. So, yes. It'd been a very long week. There was just one more person he needed to talk to. Speaking of which…
"Still waiting for your beard to grow out?".
Ben smiled and turned at the voice, at the person it belonged to. He walked to greet his long-time friend.
"Aziz! It's good to see you," Ben said, giving the boy a quick hug. "How's Agrabah been?".
"Hot," Aziz said. Ben laughed. It had to have been, if the newly bronzed sheen of the boy's desert-sand skin wasn't any indication. "I have missed grass".
"Yeah, I bet," Ben said. "Here. Take a seat".
Ben pulled out the chairs at the table in the courtyard. Aziz took the seat next to him.
"So, to what do I owe this invite, your Illustriousness?" Aziz asked. Ben laughed again. He'd tolerated that nickname ever since Aziz had given it to him at his 11th birthday. He supposed it was better than all the nicknames the son of Aladdin has given him in the past, and all the other nicknames he'd given to their peers.
"I had something I wanted to talk to you about. It's kind of sensitive".
"Is it about the new proclamation?". Ben's face grew alarmed. How did he know about it?
Aziz gave a smirk. "I heard Cogsworth muttering about it to Lumiere on the way in,"
Ben gave a nod of understanding. He was going to have to talk to those two about their gossiping. Later.
"So what's the big secret?". For a second, Ben's chest grew tight. For a second, he wasn't sure what to do, wasn't sure how this meeting would go. But, Aziz deserved to know. He deserved this much, at least. So Ben took a deep breath, and told him everything.
There was a good chance Mena was lying, about Amir sending him up here. She knew that much. Because if Ehsan knew where Mena was and what he was doing, he'd have reported back to Amir without hesitation, which wouldn't've been a problem if Amir had in fact sent Mena up here. And she of all people knew the crown prince wouldn't concern himself with such things. Especially not when the Ascension was a few days away.
Mena's eyes were wide, trying to take in as much as possible. All throughout the day, she'd shown him the city. The Watering Fountain, the Street Rat's quarter, Crazy Hakim's Discount Fertilizer. The last one was his least favorite, naturally. She almost laughed. For a moment back at the apartment, Amara had considered him. Considered sending him back to Patala, the underground home of the Naga. She considered telling him to get back to his training. It looked like he half-expected it. But in that moment, the lines of exhaustion on his face were like the Mark on his arm. Easily missed if you didn't pay attention. And he'd never been up to the marketplace on the surface before. So she'd decided.
"This way," she said, guiding Mena through the streets. It was late afternoon by the time they'd finally reached the marketplace. Amara cracked a smile. She had an idea.
"Here," she said, "There's enough money there to cover it,". She pointed to the stand where Kajmeet, her herb guy, worked. Mena's face lit up even more. He looked a bit too excited for his first time in the marketplace, but it'd be fine. She'd be there to step in if things escalated, which regretfully, was a common occurrence in the marketplace, but, she digressed. She told Mena her usual order and pointed him towards the stand. For a split second, she glanced back.
Carved onto one of the walls was a rune. Curved offshooting V's on either side of a ring-handled hook, a bar on one end, a crescent moon on the other. A protection rune. There were many across the city, all carved by her. Shadows leaked from the rune, giving it an inky appearance, and concealing it from everyone else. Everyone but her. She prayed she'd never have to use them.
She closed her eyes, and breathed in. There was no reason to let thoughts like that ruin her day. This was the one day a week she got to go up to the surface, smell the scents, see the people, listen to Mena argue with her herb guy. Wait…
She opened her eyes. Sure enough, Mena and Kajmeet were arguing. Her feet moved of their own accord. They were getting too close to each other for her liking.
"What do you mean this isn't enough? My friend told me this is exactly how much I'd need," Mena said.
"Young man, you are misinformed. As I have told you repeatedly".
"I am not misinformed. I would know".
"Well then your friend is misinformed! They must've been going to Omar's cheap stand across the way and finally had the good sense to come here. Now off with you!", Kajmeet said. The nostrils of his snub nose flared in annoyance.
Anyone who'd spent anytime in the marketplace knew about the long-standing rivalry between Kajmeet and Omar, knew that Omar loved to rub his larger clientele right in Kajmeet's face. Even if it was due to Omar running a pleasure lounge in the nighttime. Even if the herbs he sold were a ticket into the establishment.
"Now why would I go to Omar's place when you have the highest quality herbs this side of the Middle East?'. The two glanced at her as she smoothly slid between them.
"Ms. Arya!" Kajmeet shook her hand with a warmth that matched his brown eyes. 'It is always a pleasure to see you!". The smile he wore made his face rounder than it already was.
Mena glanced at her. 'Arya?', he mouthed. Amara shook her head slightly. Mena shut up. Kajmeet glanced between the two of them.
"You are the friend he speaks of?".
"Yes. I thought it'd be fun if he got my order for me. This is his first time in the marketplace," she chuckled.
"Clearly. My apologies for you having to witness such unpleasantries,". The merchant shot Mena a glare. Amara put a hand to Mena's chest before he even took a step.
"What seems to be the problem?" she asked.
"He's trying to clean me out," Mena said.
"There is not enough. It's a simple fact that fails to get through this young man's thick skull," Kajmeet said.
"Listen you-"
"Okay,". Amara kept her hand where it was. Because if Mena's eyes weren't glowing before, they sure as hell were now, and that couldn't happen. Naga didn't show themselves to humans.
"No need to resort to insults," Amara said. She glanced at Kajmeet. The older man's face relaxed. Amara's hand fell from her friend's chest, and she took a step up to the herb stand.
"This has always been enough. What's changed?" she asked. Why now? The merchant's eyes tightened, and slowly, they sank, his nostrils flaring the tiniest bit. Slowly, his arms unfolded from his chest, the bracelet of metal flowers he wore glinting in the sun. Too small to wrap around his wrist completely, it was attached to a piece of leather that could. Amara recognized that bracelet.
She sighed. Reaching into her pack, her hand searched until finally it locked around a familiar glass vial. Looking back up at the merchant, she spoke the practical motto of the marketplace.
"Perhaps we can come to an agreement,".
Ben loosed a breath. He'd spent the last 20 minutes, at least, explaining everything to Aziz. How he'd been at the beach, staring at the Isle, then had woken up in his bed, the next morning, he'd realized after he'd made the decision, and about his dreams, about the villains whose children he'd chosen to come over. Cruella De Vil, Evil Queen, Maleficent, and Jafar. The son of Aladdin had been eerily silent for the past few minutes, which to this day, Ben had never figured out was a good or bad thing. Was he going to explode? Was he simply going to get up and walk away? Was he gonna be completely okay with everything? Aziz's face was unreadable.
"So…," Ben broke the silence. It was a few seconds before Aziz finally spoke.
"Why?". He finally asked. His dark eyes turned cool, calculating. Ben supposed it was better than nothing.
"Why-", Ben trailed off.
"Why am I the only one you're talking to about this? Why haven't you gone to any of the others?".
"How do you know I haven't?".
"Well for one thing, no one's seen you outside the castle in a week. Two, you're not really close friends with Snow White's or Anita and Roger's kids, and you're not the type to just spring things on people without building rapport. Three, if you'd have talked to Audrey about it, everyone would know by now, and the only peep I've heard is today from inside the castle. Besides, when was the last time you two actually had a serious conversation?".
Okay, so Aziz had a point, or two. Ben had almost forgotten how observant the prince was.
"That's fair," Ben said finally.
"You still haven't answered my question". Right.
"You had the lowest chance of freaking out?" Ben offered. Aziz folded his arms across his chest, an eyebrow raised. He wasn't convinced.
"Fine, you got me. I wanted to tell you personally since-" Ben stopped for a second as he tried to find the words. Aziz waited patiently. He was the most level-headed person Ben knew, but even he hadn't been sure how the son of Aladdin would take it. All things considered.
"I know Jafar is a sensitive point for your family. And I know our parents haven't gotten along in the past. ". Understatement of the year. Ben couldn't remember the last time their parents even talked to each other. And he imagined it'd be a sensitive point for all of the kids on the Hero side, the ones with descendants of archrivals coming over. But for Aziz's family especially, Ben knew it would be a difficult transition.
"I just wanted you to hear it from me," Ben said finally. The boy's dark eyes flicked down, considering, before meeting Ben's again.
"Thanks," the prince of Agrabah said simply. A beat of silence happened before he spoke again.
"So what are you gonna do?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, how are you gonna break the news? Because we all know how much Auradonians love change," Aziz said.
"I'm gonna make a public announcement tomorrow," Ben said.
"Good luck," Aziz chuckled. Ben shared one of his own, beginning to sink into his thoughts. In 2 weeks, the villain kids were coming over. In 2 weeks, they'd finally see the world on the other side of the bridge. A world where they likely wouldn't be accepted.
"Am I crazy?" Ben asked.
"What?".
"Am I crazy for, all this? For thinking this is a good idea?".
"I don't think I'm the best person to ask," Aziz chuckled. Ben shared a chuckle of his own with the prince. He flashed back to his 11th birthday again, where Aziz had punched Chad Charming so hard in the face he ran crying to his mother. To be fair, the prince had been asking for it, wanted to take Aziz on in a fight and then started mouthing off about Lonnie, who hadn't been able to come to the party. Gods help anybody who came at the people Aziz cared about.
"Seriously. Do you think this is crazy? That I'm crazy for thinking this will all work out somehow? Do you think I should even do this? Do you think I should-".
"I think you need to slow down".
"Aziz-"
"Ben, it doesn't matter what I think. It doesn't matter what anybody else thinks, okay?. This is your call". Ben stopped. He sighed. Aziz was right, which on most occasions was the case. Yet another thing Ben hadn't decided was good or bad.
"You wanted to do this for a reason, right?" the prince asked. The words struck Ben. The words sounded familiar. Aziz spoke again a second later when Ben didn't.
"What's your gut telling you?" he asked. Ben thought back to that morning two weeks ago, when he'd woken up in his bed without any idea how he got there, when he'd read the note on his nightstand, when he looked out at the Isle from his window. He knew. In that moment, he knew.
"That this is the right thing to do" Ben said. Maybe it was unfair to bring them into a world that possibly wouldn't accept them, but it was even more unfair to leave them on that island when they did nothing to deserve it.
"Okay then," Aziz said. The corner of Ben's mouth quirked up. Aziz always had a way of putting things in perspective. It was easy to forget the prince was his age.
"Are you gonna be okay? With-" Ben danced around the words.
"You can talk about Jafar's son. I'm not gonna wilt," Aziz said. Ben waited. The son of Aladdin shrugged.
"Fine. It's gonna be a little weird, but he's not his dad. I'm not gonna blame him for something he didn't do," Aziz said. Ben sighed. At least someone thought so. At least one person was on his side. Aziz checked his watch, his eyes lighting up with urgency.
"I'd better go. I've got some things to move into my dorm," Aziz said.
"Okay. See you in school. Let me know if there's anything you need,"
"Back at you," Aziz said. He turned back to Ben as he was about to walk away.
"Actually, there is one thing, before I go. About Jafar's kid," he said. Ben gave a nod, and the son of Aladdin asked a simple question.
"What's his name?".
"I cannot believe you got that guy to take your money. He was being such a prick," Mena said. They walked through the remainder of the marketplace, herbs in hand.
"He was being a businessman,".
"Same thing,".
"And he was having a hard day,".
"He's still a prick. But seriously, how'd you do it?". The corner of Amara's lip curled up as she glanced down at the herb sack. The bracelet on Kajmeet's wrist belonged to his daughter. She'd been sick for a long time, but it must've been getting worse, if Kajmeet was willing to raise his prices. The marketplace was competitive enough as it was. The medicine Amara left him, her own special blend, would help. It'd last a few months if his daughter took it the way she was supposed to.
"I just figured out what he wanted,".
"Sounds simple enough," Mena said.
"You should know. You're a King Cobra," she teased, her elbow nudging him. Few knew Naga existed. Those who did viewed Naga as masters of deception, of manipulation. And they were, when they had to be.
"I for one think we can do without all the stupid diplomacy. I mean, why couldn't we be known for less talking and more punching? That'd be nice," Mena said. Amara chuckled. Naga, King Cobras especially, liked to take the most logical route first. Most of them at least. Out of nowhere, Mena hissed in pain. She glanced over at him, and the ink on his arm began to slither. He clutched at his chest. Immediately, she pulled him into a side alley with little onlookers.
The head of Mena's tattoo now moved along his shoulder. He clutched at his chest again. It's tail now ended at the top of his wrist. It moved up his arm. Slowly. Pretty soon, it'd be around his neck.
After a few seconds, he let out a breath, and his hand lowered from his chest. His eyes darkened. The pain, it seemed, had subsided. For now. A warning.
"Damn it," he cursed.
"You need to go. Now," she said, lowering her voice.
"I'm fine Mars," Mena said.
"No, you're not" she said, gesturing to his tattoo.
"Okay, then you can patch me up later," he said.
"If Amir even lets you get fixed," she said. Amara never broke her stare. Because if there was one thing Mena was known for, it was giving his prince trouble. And she'd been fully prepared to chew him out. But somehow, the noble family walking down the street was more important.
"What's up?".
She said nothing, and Mena followed her gaze to a tall man flanked by his two daughters, no older than she was. Not just any. Omar Almasi, clothed in robes of deep purple silk, gold accents decorating it. The man who'd owned the pleasure lounge, among a few other businesses that made enough to pay for the nice clothes and the jewelry he and his daughters wore. None of it mattered as Amara's eyes locked on her target, on the daughter closest to her. Sana was her name.
"What are you doing?" Mena asked. A cold certainty settled over Amara as her eyes locked on Sana's golden necklace, the pendant that dangled from her fingers as she held it up for all to see. Amara slipped her neck cloth over her face as she answered him simply.
"I have something I need to take care of".
The Isle of the Lost
Jay was having a bad day. Of course, everyone on the Isle was having a bad day, but Jay's day had been particularly dreadful. He hated today. He wanted to get today over with.
He headed down to the wharf. Mal enlisted him to get spicy cider, stale chips, and anything else that'd go with tonight's hell-raiser, as Mal called it. The party that Evie, daughter of Evil Queen, supposedly wasn't invited to, then was. Jay could only imagine what diabolical revenge scheme Mal had planned. Nevertheless, Jay was looking forward to it. He needed the distraction.
After about 15 minutes, he'd made it down to the wharf, swiping everything they needed and a little extra they didn't, not bothering to give so much as a candy wrapper in payment.
By the time he'd made it back to Hell Hall, the sounds of Diego De Vil's band echoed throughout the mansion's halls, Carlos De Vil's minions were blinding themselves with an old Polaroid camera, pirates were swinging from the chandelier, and he'd claimed a spot on the couch, pouring a shot of Fireball whiskey into an awaiting cup of spicy cider.
Hey Guys!
I wanna take a moment to thank y'all for taking time out of your day to read this! It means a lot and I appreciate your views.
First, I wanted to point out that my story will be coinciding with the events of Melissa de la Cruz's "The Isle of the Lost,", but I will only be covering a few points of that story. The rest of the story will coincide with the Descendants Movie.
I also wanted to be upfront with you guys. I am currently writing this while in nursing school, which means updates will not be that frequent (as you've probably already guessed lol). With that being said, I am going to try and make all my chapters at least 4000 words, because after long wait periods, it's only fair.
Again, thank y'all so much for clicking on my story. I hope y'all enjoyed this chapter.
Happy reading!
