Thanks for all the comments! :) Sorry this is so late. RL is evil.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"They shall return in time," a voice said.
He turned around.
"Who are you?" he asked, looking over the dark clad woman in front of him.
She looked him over briefly, her dark green eyes seeming to look into his very soul. Finally seeming satisfied, she approached him.
"I am known as Mystic these days, though I once had another name, a name that even you shuddered at," she said, coming nearly nosed to him.
She was as tall as he was, with a slick frame. Ivory white skin shown out against the tight black clothing, as a signal gold symbol attached to a chain around her neck glinted in the sun. Recognizing the symbol, he paled as he backed away from her.
"Mirage..." he trailed off.
"In the mortal flesh," she snapped, angrily tucking a strand of short black hair behind her ea. Sighing softly, she seemed to berate herself silently for a moment, then spoke again, more gently this time, "I'm sorry, these years have made me more bitter but less evil. I knew you would return."
"How? From where?" Aladdin asked her, not trusting her.
"From death, you should at least remember that. How? My son has risen again, because dark magic has once again surged over the world, and the bond between you brought you back as well. You are bond to stop him from taking over the world, and annoyingly, I am to help you," Mirage explained.
"As well as I," another voice spoke up.
Wind and sand suddenly swirled up in a small, tight cycle, and out of it stepped a woman that seemed familiar to him.
"Sadira," he said softly, eyeing the new woman in front of him.
She looked different, and yet the same. Her face was gently lined now, and her long brown hair was streaked with gray. Her sun-baked skin was lighter now, as if she had not spent as much time out in the sun. But what was so different and so similar was her eyes. They were the same bright brown they had always been, yet older, colder, filled with a power untouchable, yet he could see the shadow of the girl she had once been, warm, delicate. The obsession for him was gone as well, replaced by a sadness beyond imagine.
"Well, at least a few memories are still intact," she commented lightly, a worn smile stretched across her lips as she walked closer, her brown robes swirling lightly around her.
"Sadira, where am I? Where is Jasmine and Ali?" Aladdin asked, trying to ignore Mirage's presence for a moment.
"Much has changed since you have passed and returned, Aladdin. Agrabah is no more, and the sands of time have shifted on. You stand near the ruins of what you once knew," Sadira said solemnly.
"So what Mirage said is true, I died," he whispered, *and Jasmine is now far from me,* he added silently.
His heart twisted painfully in his chest as his knees collapsed under him, from disuse, and the pain that struck his soul. Falling to his side, he lay there on the hot sand, desperately trying to hold back as his tears, but failing.
"Perhaps he is the wrong choice for this," Mirage said offhandedly.
"Hush, Mirage," Sadira hissed, and then knelt down beside Aladdin.
Placing a cold hand to his warm forehead, she brushed back a strand from his eyes tenderly, motherly. Leaning forward, she gently whispered into his ear, "I know this is torture, Aladdin, and I am sorry it had to be you that must face this. But the sooner you kill Mozenrath, the sooner your pain will end."
He closed his eyes, and shuddered at the cold tone in her voice. His heart and soul ached with the knowledge that the other half was gone from him, and he had no choice. Anger lighted in him at that thought, he was trapped, being forced to do something, to murder someone. Mozenrath was his worst enemy, but it was against his nature to kill out right.
"I'm just a pawn in this sick game," he said bitterly, refusing to open his eyes to see her reaction.
Sadira's eyes grew colder as she pulled away from him, "We all are, and we have no choice but to see this through."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Mozenrath stumbled towards his old study, his legs weak from the recent resurrection. Finally making it to the door, he weakly forced it open, and grimaced at what was within. Black sand was everywhere within the room, books were tattered, and some had even fallen apart. Magic artifacts were scattered about from the wind that had buried, and unburied, the place. Many were broken, shattered, or torn to shreds. Sighing, he walked over the wreckage, and settled into a rusted metal chair, who's padding had long since been ripped and spilled out. Not caring at how uncomfortable it was to sit upon the old metal relic, he relaxed, letting his sore muscles calm. His right hand throbbed from the power he had used to resurrect the place. Even though it had been a small spell for him, he was too weak to deal with the cost of willing even that small amount of power.
Shifting slightly, he closed his eyes to gather his thoughts. He was alive, but how? Even as powerful as he was, he couldn't have survived that, and he certainly did not posses the ability to resurrect himself. He knew time had passed, that was obvious. The Citadel would not be in such a state if it was only a day or even a few months after his death. But how much time? The air seemed charged with dark power, too much dark power. Before he died, it hadn't even been a tenth of what he sensed now.
His senses picked up someone moving in the dark doorway. He couldn't figure out who it was, though he had a guess.
"Manara, come to see your dead brother?" he asked.
"Unfortunately you're wrong about who it is, milord. Your sister is probably buried under a rock cliff by now. Actually, in fact she is," a feminine voice sneered, and a shadow fell over him.
Opening his eyes in alarm, he looked up into a pair of hard sapphire eyes.
"Who are you?" he snapped.
"You can call me what you wish, since I truly don't feel like telling you my name now. How do you like living again?" she asked, smoothing back a silver hair out of the way of her porcelain face.
"Why?" he sneered, trying to match her tone, trying to seem more intimidating then he was.
"Because, I from those that brought you up. But like I care what you like or not. Now, I have a few things I need to tell you about. One, you were brought back for a reason. And unless you're extremely not bright, you should know that. Two, you don't work for yourself; you work for my Masters, who are giving you nearly free reign for this. Take over the world, do whatever. You can keep all the power to yourself, they just want one little thing from you that is connected by this nice little cord of soul, and only you can get it for them," she said.
"I work for no one," he snapped.
"Oh, yes you do, Mister All Powerful But Dead, because if you don't, they'll send you back to where you belong. Here's a taste if you don't believe me," she said, and looked away.
Pain that felt like fire seemed burned through his skin, and began to boil his blood and brain. Screams were torn from him as the pain increased, and his body jerked in reaction. Suddenly it stopped, and he was again staring at the strange woman.
"Now, as I was saying. All you have to do is give them one little thing. You'll be happy to get rid of it," she said, and smiled.
"What?" he asked, a slight more docile this time, as he tried to recover from the shocking experience.
"Oh, you'll know when you see it. Have fun, but remember, you're not a free man, my dear Mage," she said, and disappeared, leaving him to recover in the darkness.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"They shall return in time," a voice said.
He turned around.
"Who are you?" he asked, looking over the dark clad woman in front of him.
She looked him over briefly, her dark green eyes seeming to look into his very soul. Finally seeming satisfied, she approached him.
"I am known as Mystic these days, though I once had another name, a name that even you shuddered at," she said, coming nearly nosed to him.
She was as tall as he was, with a slick frame. Ivory white skin shown out against the tight black clothing, as a signal gold symbol attached to a chain around her neck glinted in the sun. Recognizing the symbol, he paled as he backed away from her.
"Mirage..." he trailed off.
"In the mortal flesh," she snapped, angrily tucking a strand of short black hair behind her ea. Sighing softly, she seemed to berate herself silently for a moment, then spoke again, more gently this time, "I'm sorry, these years have made me more bitter but less evil. I knew you would return."
"How? From where?" Aladdin asked her, not trusting her.
"From death, you should at least remember that. How? My son has risen again, because dark magic has once again surged over the world, and the bond between you brought you back as well. You are bond to stop him from taking over the world, and annoyingly, I am to help you," Mirage explained.
"As well as I," another voice spoke up.
Wind and sand suddenly swirled up in a small, tight cycle, and out of it stepped a woman that seemed familiar to him.
"Sadira," he said softly, eyeing the new woman in front of him.
She looked different, and yet the same. Her face was gently lined now, and her long brown hair was streaked with gray. Her sun-baked skin was lighter now, as if she had not spent as much time out in the sun. But what was so different and so similar was her eyes. They were the same bright brown they had always been, yet older, colder, filled with a power untouchable, yet he could see the shadow of the girl she had once been, warm, delicate. The obsession for him was gone as well, replaced by a sadness beyond imagine.
"Well, at least a few memories are still intact," she commented lightly, a worn smile stretched across her lips as she walked closer, her brown robes swirling lightly around her.
"Sadira, where am I? Where is Jasmine and Ali?" Aladdin asked, trying to ignore Mirage's presence for a moment.
"Much has changed since you have passed and returned, Aladdin. Agrabah is no more, and the sands of time have shifted on. You stand near the ruins of what you once knew," Sadira said solemnly.
"So what Mirage said is true, I died," he whispered, *and Jasmine is now far from me,* he added silently.
His heart twisted painfully in his chest as his knees collapsed under him, from disuse, and the pain that struck his soul. Falling to his side, he lay there on the hot sand, desperately trying to hold back as his tears, but failing.
"Perhaps he is the wrong choice for this," Mirage said offhandedly.
"Hush, Mirage," Sadira hissed, and then knelt down beside Aladdin.
Placing a cold hand to his warm forehead, she brushed back a strand from his eyes tenderly, motherly. Leaning forward, she gently whispered into his ear, "I know this is torture, Aladdin, and I am sorry it had to be you that must face this. But the sooner you kill Mozenrath, the sooner your pain will end."
He closed his eyes, and shuddered at the cold tone in her voice. His heart and soul ached with the knowledge that the other half was gone from him, and he had no choice. Anger lighted in him at that thought, he was trapped, being forced to do something, to murder someone. Mozenrath was his worst enemy, but it was against his nature to kill out right.
"I'm just a pawn in this sick game," he said bitterly, refusing to open his eyes to see her reaction.
Sadira's eyes grew colder as she pulled away from him, "We all are, and we have no choice but to see this through."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Mozenrath stumbled towards his old study, his legs weak from the recent resurrection. Finally making it to the door, he weakly forced it open, and grimaced at what was within. Black sand was everywhere within the room, books were tattered, and some had even fallen apart. Magic artifacts were scattered about from the wind that had buried, and unburied, the place. Many were broken, shattered, or torn to shreds. Sighing, he walked over the wreckage, and settled into a rusted metal chair, who's padding had long since been ripped and spilled out. Not caring at how uncomfortable it was to sit upon the old metal relic, he relaxed, letting his sore muscles calm. His right hand throbbed from the power he had used to resurrect the place. Even though it had been a small spell for him, he was too weak to deal with the cost of willing even that small amount of power.
Shifting slightly, he closed his eyes to gather his thoughts. He was alive, but how? Even as powerful as he was, he couldn't have survived that, and he certainly did not posses the ability to resurrect himself. He knew time had passed, that was obvious. The Citadel would not be in such a state if it was only a day or even a few months after his death. But how much time? The air seemed charged with dark power, too much dark power. Before he died, it hadn't even been a tenth of what he sensed now.
His senses picked up someone moving in the dark doorway. He couldn't figure out who it was, though he had a guess.
"Manara, come to see your dead brother?" he asked.
"Unfortunately you're wrong about who it is, milord. Your sister is probably buried under a rock cliff by now. Actually, in fact she is," a feminine voice sneered, and a shadow fell over him.
Opening his eyes in alarm, he looked up into a pair of hard sapphire eyes.
"Who are you?" he snapped.
"You can call me what you wish, since I truly don't feel like telling you my name now. How do you like living again?" she asked, smoothing back a silver hair out of the way of her porcelain face.
"Why?" he sneered, trying to match her tone, trying to seem more intimidating then he was.
"Because, I from those that brought you up. But like I care what you like or not. Now, I have a few things I need to tell you about. One, you were brought back for a reason. And unless you're extremely not bright, you should know that. Two, you don't work for yourself; you work for my Masters, who are giving you nearly free reign for this. Take over the world, do whatever. You can keep all the power to yourself, they just want one little thing from you that is connected by this nice little cord of soul, and only you can get it for them," she said.
"I work for no one," he snapped.
"Oh, yes you do, Mister All Powerful But Dead, because if you don't, they'll send you back to where you belong. Here's a taste if you don't believe me," she said, and looked away.
Pain that felt like fire seemed burned through his skin, and began to boil his blood and brain. Screams were torn from him as the pain increased, and his body jerked in reaction. Suddenly it stopped, and he was again staring at the strange woman.
"Now, as I was saying. All you have to do is give them one little thing. You'll be happy to get rid of it," she said, and smiled.
"What?" he asked, a slight more docile this time, as he tried to recover from the shocking experience.
"Oh, you'll know when you see it. Have fun, but remember, you're not a free man, my dear Mage," she said, and disappeared, leaving him to recover in the darkness.