Chapter 6
The world was wet and muffled when he woke. Cold brackish water pressed in on him from every side.
Where am I? Ja'far wondered as he slowly came to his senses. A few air bubbles escaped his lips and broke the barren seascape before him. The dim waters seemed empty aside from himself and the slender beams of light that shafted the waters in pale eerie coulombs. He saw no plant life, or fish, or other sea creatures in the vastness.
On instinct, he raised his vision to the surface and began to swim upwards. His robes felt heavy as stone and his shoes cumbersome on his feet as he kicked towards the light.
He had no idea how long he'd been submerged but his lungs were already burning and twisting inside him. Ja'far climbed hard and fast but suddenly the chain in his chest snapped taught, jerking him back down as he met its length.
More air escaped his mouth and nose in surprise.
He twisted frantically to tug at the iron links but in the faint greenish light Ja'far could see the murky ocean floor where his chain ended. It was snared hopelessly amongst a pile of cinder blocks.
His eyes widened in fear, a panic coming over him. He was anchored to the ocean floor.
He struggled and yanked at the links, but it did no use.
His chest howled louder in agony the longer he fought until finally he could take no more. He cried out for mercy but his words were muted and burst from him in a stream of bubbles and then the ocean came rushing in to take their place. His lungs filled with water instead of air and he knew that was going to be the end of it.
I'm going to die, Ja'far thought as his body slackened and he began to sink. He extended his pale fingers towards the surface longingly. The last bubbles of air slipped past his lips and scurried upwards without him. He watched them go, overcome with abandon.
His mind was clouding quickly, the light growing dimmer each time he blinked.
He hardly realized the flash of violet or the arms moving forth to encircle him but in a sudden rushing torrent the ocean was gone and Ja'far found himself sprawling to the ground, Sinbad there beside him.
The ex-assassin weakly spluttered, still choking on water, but Sinbad gathered him up into his arms. "Cough it out," Sin urged, pounding his back until Ja'far gracelessly raised everything he'd swallowed and was finally able to suck in the crisp night air. Each inhale bit his ragged throat but his head began to clear as he breathed.
"Are you alright?" Sin asked once the ex-assassin had quieted. He kept Ja'far tight in his grip, hugging him to his chest protectively "You nearly drowned,"
"I'm okay," Ja'far said turning slightly so he could return the embrace. His arms were weak and trembling but Sin squeezed him hard enough for the both of them.
"I'm sorry, Ja'far. I shouldn't have let that happen. It was my fault you were dragged under like that," Sin said grimly.
It took Ja'far a moment to realize they were in the little clearing, their island in the dark abyss. The hearth was filled with a modest fire. It wasn't roaring, but it was in no danger of going out either. A good thing seeing as the tinder Ja'far had brought was no doubt just as soggy as his robes.
"Don't apologize, how could that have been your fault?" Ja'far said. It was the breeze blocks that had tried to drown him, not Sin. "And besides, you were the one to save me, weren't you?"
The older man gave him a guilty look but didn't comment any further on the issue, he simply pulled Ja'far into his lap and leaned over him until their noses were practically touching. Sin's presence enveloped him, his smell, his breath. Ja'far thought he could even hear Sin's heartbeat pumping hard and fast beneath the tethered chain linking them together. A blush crept up Ja'far's neck in response to their closeness.
"It's in the past. What matters now is that you're alive and here with me," And then Sin closed the gap between them. Ja'far stiffened as their lips collided but soon he melted into the touch, allowing Sin to deepen the kiss, welcoming the contact he'd dreamed of for so long. Sin's lips were hot and soft and tasted good on his tongue, like spices and citrus and the sea itself.
Their hands explored one another in the fervent passion. Ja'far's turban was knocked off as Sin raked his hand through Ja'far's damp locks and Sin's robe fell askew as Ja'far's hands ventured over his back and shoulders, feeling the taut muscles and smooth skin.
The chain connecting them clicked and clacked with their movements like a musical chorus or a tiny cheering crowd.
They kiss for a long while, but Ja'far still moaned in dismay when Sin pulled back. The king simply laughed at his frustration.
"I love you," Sin said breathily, flushed and panting just like his advisor.
"I love you too," Ja'far meant those words more than he'd meant any he'd ever spoken before. This man was his life, his purpose. He would follow him until the end. Ja'far reached up and pulled Sin back down, kissing him all over again but Sin eventually undid them once more.
"I wish things could stay this way forever," The older man was smiling but his eyes appeared sad.
Ja'far frowned, "Why can't they? The kindling I brought will eventually dry and we can keep the fire going for some time. We don't have to leave this place if we don't want to,"
Sin looked tempted by the prospect but he sighed and closed his eyes, briefly touching Ja'far's forehead to his own. "I've asked too much of you. Things are getting out of hand"
"What are you talking about, Sin?"
"You've given me far too much of yourself. It's starting to show, see?" Sin brushed his hand across Ja'far's cheek. The moisture Ja'far had thought was ocean water came back red on the pads of Sin's fingers. Ja'far reached up himself and felt the warm liquid leaking from his eyes, observing the blood that came back on his hand.
"I knew it was in your nature to overwork but I allowed this to continue regardless. It was selfish of me and I almost lost you because of it," Sin picked Ja'far up as if he were light as a feather, rising from the soot earth and striding over to the hearth. He sat Ja'far down on the stone bench and then moved toward the fire.
"I'm going to give this back to you now," Sin reached into the flames barehanded.
"Don't! -you'll hurt yourself!" Ja'far said but when Sin pulled his hands out of the hearth they were unburnt. He cupped a pile of dancing live embers.
"What are you doing?" Ja'far asked as Sin approached him. Ja'far tried to coil back, but Sin placed a knee on either side of Ja'far's thighs and straddled him, holding the smaller man in place with his weight.
"It's best you don't linger here," Sin said as he pushed the coals into Ja'far's chest where iron chain met flesh. Ja'far gasped, expecting pain, but the fire became one with his skin and filled him with a pleasant warmth that chased the clinging cold he hadn't realized was there.
Sin smiled down at him, his face suddenly pale and blue. The little fire in the hearth had simmered down to cinder once more, its glimmer feeble.
"But Sin! Look what you've done to the flames! You'll need my kindling,"
Sin shook his head and reached forward to cover Ja'far's eyes, obscuring his vision.
"Go now," He said, giving Ja'far a final kiss. His lips were cold as ice.
Ja'far blinked, startled to see wooden shiplap ceiling above him. The smell of medicinal herbs hung thick in the air and cawing gulls could be heard from the open window. He was in the palace, not the stone clearing, though his chest still felt hot where the embers had been thrust and his mouth tingled where Sin's lips had touched.
Just a dream. Ja'far thought.
The drapes around the bed he laid in were mauve and gold and made of silk, unlike the familiar green and silver fabric hung from his canopy. It seemed he was in the medical ward, not his own chambers.
He was confused at how he'd managed to get into a hospital bed without realizing, but then the events came rushing back. He'd been with Sin, last he remembered, and then he'd fainted. His heart swelled as he thought back on the conversation they'd shared. Sin told me he loves me and of what a fool he's been for hiding it. That part was real, wasn't it? Or am I'm loonier than I realize?
The real memories and the ones from his dream seemed to bleed together in his mind, making it difficult to discern which was true and which was false. The notion of Sin confessing his love sounded outlandish enough to be fantasy. Ja'far frowned, no longer certain of anything.
"You're awake," Yamuraiha's voice pulled him from his thoughts abruptly. The door shut softly behind her as she entered the room. Though she was dressed and groomed neatly as she drew closer Ja'far could see the dark bags beneath her eyes. They had grown even more prominent since when Ja'far had last seen her.
"Yam," He said, a feeling of shame filling him as he regarded her tired eyes. The last time I saw her she was crying and I fled. He wished that atrocity had been only a dream, but he knew it wasn't.
"You've been unconscious since yesterday," If she was angry with him she didn't say it aloud, though her demeanor seemed a bit more cold than usual.
"Since yesterday?" Ja'far asked, working to sit himself up. He felt more wobbly and weak than a newly hatched bird. His knees and wrists were aching as well, perhaps form the fall.
"You collapsed in Sinbad's sick room last night. The guards heard a crash and found you down. You were hardly breathing when the medics got to you -and you were bleeding as well,"
Ja'far vaguely remembered the crushing chest pain that had sent him to the floor but he didn't remember any blood aside from the tears he'd shed in the strange dream world. "Bleeding?" He asked wearily, feeling like a parrot repeating Yam's words. His mind was too muddled to do much else.
"Yes, bleeding from your eyes and mouth. It was magoi depletion, Ja'far. You've improved overnight but your levels were dangerously low when the medics and I reached you. Now tell me, how could that have happened?"
"I-I've no idea," Ja'far said truthfully, feeling put on the spot.
"You must have been doing something, Ja'far. Magoi doesn't just deplete itself. We've already got a sick king to worry about, we don't need our Chief Advisor held up as well. I have enough on my plate," She said sharply.
Perhaps she was still mad at him from before, judging by the way she glared. He swallowed hard.
"I was just visiting Sin, I wasn't doing anything unusual," Ja'far insisted. Except the bond nearly stabbed my heart and the dream-visions tried to drown me. Ja'far bit his lip. He could tell that Yam didn't believe him by the way she furrowed her brow skeptically.
"You're hiding something," Yamuraiha said.
Ja'far shook his head, ""It's nothing, I -I mean, I'm not!"
"What's nothing?" Yam asked leaning forward with a sturdy stare.
Ja'far cursed his slip and clutched at the blanket over his lap nervously. "I've just been having strange dreams is all," He consented quietly.
He took a moment to chip at the words he might use to describe the snake in his chest or how the visions seemed to drug him to sleep but he couldn't think of a way to express himself without sounding foolish and crazy.
"Strange dreams?" Yam pressed, to Ja'far's frustration.
"Look, it's not important. It's not what we should be worrying about at a time like this, anyway. How's Sin doing, that's what I want to know,"
Yam's mouth formed into a hard little line as she pursed her lips. "To say the least his condition has..changed,"
"Changed how?" Ja'far asked suspiciously, misliking the way she chose her words so carefully.
"Last night, Sinbad's magoi was fluctuating in the strangest way. At one point it became markedly better, but then it dropped to almost nothing soon after. He was so unstable, the medics thought it time to lower Sinbad into a coma. They've dropped his body temperature and heart rate with their potions as well. I'm not sure how long they intend to keep him that way,"
Ja'far tensed, his mouth going dry, "They're biding time?"
"Yes and no. They've actually been meaning to try this approach. A 'therapeutic coma' they're calling it. They believe it could be the step that allows Sinbad to recover -to break the vicious cycle. In the state they've put him, Sinbad's metabolic needs will be low. It could offload enough energy for his magoi to regenerate," She shrugged.
Though the thought of Sin in a coma made his insides cringe, the theory made enough sense to Ja'far. He felt a semblance of hope light within him. "Do you think there's a chance it could work?"
Yam sighed. She was clearly quite reserved about the matter. "It's possible, but I've expressed my doubts already. I feel like we're missing something, but I can't put my finger on it,"
Ja'far was released from the hospital room soon after his conversation with Yam, though not before the medics got their hands on him. They'd performed a very thorough physical examination, checking over every inch of him it seemed. Ja'far didn't like the prodding, nor did he appreciate the way they scolded him for his prominent ribs and tiny waist. He hadn't meant to become so thin, it was his non-existent appetite that had caused the problem.
He tried to tell this to the medics, but they wouldn't hear a word of it. Instead, they'd forced him to finish a plateful of food and an awful tasting restorative potion before giving him leave. He'd choked it down to appease them, but he now felt overly full and somewhat queasy as he hurried away from the medical ward.
He had no qualms putting distance between himself and the healers. He was glad the palace medics were there to help Sin, but for his own health, he saw them as nothing more than a necessary evil.
He readjusted the crimson threads and blades at his wrists indignantly thinking back on how the medics had removed the cords while he slept, another reason to hold a grudge. Didn't they know it was practically a crime to part an assassin with his weapon? Not that he was an assassin any longer but he was a general and the thought of being unarmed made him uneasy. The household vessels had become an extension of himself and unwinding them from his arms against his will was akin to chopping off a limb.
When he reached his chambers, he stripped off his clothes and bathed quickly, scrubbing the dried sweat from his body until his pale skin was pink and smelled of soap. He combed his hair and donned fresh robes, but when he checked his reflection, he still looked peaky and haggard, more like a drowned rat than a man who had finally gotten a full nights sleep and a proper meal.
He scowled and turned from the mirror, busying himself with retying his household vessels. He wound the cords carefully around his forearms and examined the polished metal of his blades. It had been quite some time since he'd honed the metal, but when he checked the edges with his finger, they drew blood with the lightest trace.
He sighed and tucked the blades beneath his sleeves carefully, wishing he could take more comfort from their presence.
No matter how sharp my blades, they're no good in this arena. I can't use them to help Sin this time. He thought, scowling. It ate him to know he held no stakes in wether Sin lived or died. It made Ja'far feel all the more powerless and fearful.
The loneliness of his chambers made his thoughts too loud so he departed from the silence hastily. He needed to visit Sin.
He found the halls largely vacant as he navigated his way to the medical ward. On a normal day, he would likely have run into a general or two, but it seemed they were all hidden away. Even the runners and servants were scarcely about, and the ones Ja'far did see were tense and kept their heads down when he passed.
It would seem the entire palace was bitter with frustration and worry for the king.
When Ja'far passed the guards and entered Sin's sick room, he found Spartos and Pisti already sitting vigil.
"Ja'far, I'm glad to see you're alright. I heard you'd taken ill," Spartos was wearing his traditional Sasan armor and feathered headdress. The red ruby in the band cast tiny flames about the room when the light hit it just right. They reminded Ja'far of the embers in his dreams.
The Chief Advisor nodded to both of the generals in greeting, hands clasped at his naval in his typical posture.
"It was just a bout of stress, thankfully. Nothing serious," He said lightly, neglecting the details of his magoi depletion. That part of the story remained a mystery, even to Ja'far, though he couldn't fight the strange suspicion that the dreams and the invisible cord were somehow related.
He strode forwards calmly but when he was close enough to look upon Sin, the site made his stomach lurch. For a moment, he thought he might be ill. Spartos must have seen the color drain from him because the knight pulled forth an empty chair. "Why don't you take a seat,"
Ja'far obliged without remark, landing heavily into the chair, his heart hammering against his eardrums.
Sin's skin was gray, his lips and eyelids pale blue, a shocking contrast to the deep violet locks that framed his ghostly features. Even his arms and hands were ashy with the unnatural color. He lay so still he might have been made of stone. It took Ja'far a long moment to find the subtle rise and fall of Sin's chest. The movement was so small it was almost impossible to notice. He truly appeared dead.
Ja'far placed a hand over his mouth and leaned heavy elbows onto his knees. Yam had said they'd lowered Sin's temperature and slowed his heart, but Ja'far hadn't realized how terrible this would make Sin look, though he doubted even a warning could have prepared him for such a sight.
But I did receive a warning. Ja'far realized. He shuddered as he was reminded of his dream and the way Sin's skin had gone cold and blue. Was it a coincidence, or had his mind somehow foretold the unfolding events? His skin rose with gooseflesh as he pondered the possibility.
Pisti was unusually quiet, busy braiding and unbraiding a thin section of hair near her face and worrying her lip. Spartos was just a quiet as usual but his stoic mask was made of marble and he had his shoulders pulled back in such a stiff posture one might have thought his spine were an iron rod.
"How long do they plan to leave him like this?" Ja'far finally asked, breaking the silence.
"At least for a few days, I've heard," Pisti answered sadly.
Ja'far closed his eyes and steepled his hands together, bowing his head into his fingers. He prayed this plan would work and be well worth the torturous wait.
Apologies for grammar/spelling/mistakes. I'm still having a fun time writing this story but I'm interested to know what other people think! Reviews would be greatly appreciated!