Chapter 7
When Ja'far woke in the other world, he found himself on the summit of a mountain.
The clouds above were black and roiling, so thick, it was impossible to tell if sun or moon lay beneath their blanket. They buffeted around him like smoke, engulfing the mountain as they blew past. Their breath was cold and moist and made Ja'far's robes damp and heavy. He shivered and reached a hand to the chain in his chest. The wrought iron was biting and rattled like chattering teeth when the wind gusted but he still gained comfort from its tether. He clasped the length of chain with clammy palms, using it to steady his feet.
He could just make out the narrow path before him, a knife's edge with sloping canyons at either side. The ledges were steep and one wrong step could send him plummeting into the dark abyss that spanned well beyond the visible crags. With every cautious step he took, pebbles loosed and tumbled, skittering over either side until their echoes bounced out of earshot.
The depth of the canyon seemed endless.
His progress was slow but the jagged trail widened as he came upon the tree line, or what must have been the remains of one. Charred mangled roots and branches clung to the edge of the mountain where pine and spruce might once have jutted. The wet ash slicked the mountain path. Ja'far had to use the brittle tree remains to keep from slipping.
He was exhausted by the time the ground leveled, both his legs and his wits left shaking from the hike, but he was finally walking amongst the burnt forest where nothing lived but coal and soot and the little clearing that twinkled in the distance. Sin lived there too, of course, but when Ja'far reached the oasis it was empty aside from the hearth and stone bench.
A little fire crackled sufficiently at the pit's center, but Sin was nowhere to be found. The chain seemed to stretch perpetually into the black, its end a mystery.
Ja'far tossed the beach branches and tinder he'd brought into the flames and sat for a while, waiting, but Sin never did come.
The frigid night sunk into Ja'far's bones as he sat, no matter how close he crouched to the fire...
He woke in his Sindrian chambers cold and shivering, a brisk unseasonal wind gusted through his open window from the North. It made the room feel sodden like the mountaintop in his dream, only here, the wind rolling in brought salt from the sea and smelled of kelp and low tide.
Will these dreams ever leave me alone? He wondered, staring up at the dim shape of the canopy hanging about his bed.
The sun hadn't yet crested the horizon but Ja'far knew there was little chance of him falling back to sleep. He crawled out of bed and made his way to the window, rubbing the gooseflesh on his arms. The bay looked eerie in the dim glow of coming dawn. It was choked by a thick fog that concealed the ocean and the docked ships at port. Only a procession of jutting masts were visible above the cloud, swaying in the tide as if an imaginary army marched below, spears thrust skyward.
Ja'far frowned at the bad weather and how perturbingly it echoed his dream.
"Sin.." He said aloud, thinking on the empty clearing. Ever since they'd sent the king into a coma, Sinbad had been absent from the dreams. A strange coincidence, Ja'far thought. Even the invisible string in his chest had grown oddly quiet since they'd turned Sin to stone.
He didn't know what to make of it all.
The coming morning would mark the third day that Sin lay comatose, and Ja'far was surely at breaking point. His wits were frayed like an unraveling rope.
His appetite had grown impossibly more scarce, as had his ability to sleep, talk, or even work on his precious scrolls. Essentially every function of being human had turned into some monumental chore. The only thing that came naturally seemed to be worrying, pacing, staring off into space, and snapping at anyone who dared point it out. All the other generals were out of sorts with him, but he was the worst off. Partly because of the dreams, partly because of the bond, and partly because of his last conversation with the king. He'd thought it over long and hard, turning the interaction over and over in his mind. Though it was hard to believe, he was virtually positive it hadn't been a fantasy.
Ja'far sighed, glaring at the fog.
To find out Sin was in love with him after all these years of hiding was amazing, but to now be deprived of Sin's company and possibly face his death was torture. It was nearly unbearable.
Scratch that, it was unbearable.
Would the rukh truly be so cruel and take Sin away when we've only just discovered the truth? Ja'far shook his head and shuddered.
The thought was too painful to consider.
He sighed again and grasped the window panes, latching them firmly shut.
While Ja'far waited for the sun to rise he valiantly tried to tackle his growing pile of untouched scrolls and choke down some breakfast but failed at both and ultimately spent his time pacing aimlessly around his chambers until it was a reasonable hour to make his way to the medical bay.
The medics seemed unsurprised to see him at the door. They regarded him politely, but he could feel their pity as they left him alone with Sinbad.
Ja'far folded his arms tightly over his chest as he sank into a seat beside Sin's bed. The king's skin was like white-blue marble, still and lifeless, more like a porcelain doll than a living person. Ja'far let a few moments pass before he leaned forward and placed a hand over Sin's heart, closing his eyes and waiting quietly. After a short while he finally felt it. The subtle shift of muscles. The rise and fall of a breath. It didn't make him feel much better but the subtle evidence of life was the only reassurance he could find in the bleak situation.
I know you're strong Sin. You will wake and when you do, I'll be here waiting.
Sin's hand was cold as ice when Ja'far took it in his own, squeezing hard.
"We'll have to ask you all to step out for a moment, I apologize," The tan-skinned medic said in her delicate voice, accenting her words with a curt, regrettable bow. Hinahoho, Drakon, and Spartos promptly rose from where they sat but Ja'far was hesitant, only moving when Hinahoho gave him a grunt and a nod towards the door. The medics had been kicking them out in liberal intervals throughout the day in order to give Sinbad privacy as he was treated and cared for. Ja'far knew it was necessary but it still felt bad every time he was forced to leave.
The doors closed behind the four generals as they stepped out of the medical room.
Spartos sighed, his shoulders sagging in his armor. "I suppose it's time I tend to some business," Drakon nodded in mute agreement, though he looked equally reluctant. Ja'far gave them both a stiff nod while Hinahoho waved them off. The clanking metal footsteps of the Sason knight and the dragon-man faded down the corridor as they marched away, leaving a deafening silence to gape between him and the Imuchakk warrior.
The large blue-haired general gave a heavy sigh of his own and leaned back against the far stone wall, folding his arms and tucking his chin.
Ja'far rubbed his forehead and scrunched his eyes shut. He'd developed a headache early in the day that was now beating at his temples like a monkey with a hammer. He knew it was a rude thing, but a part of him wished Hinahoho would leave as well. At the current moment, he just wanted to be alone to sulk and brood and sit by Sin when the medics allowed.
He peered fleetingly towards Hinahoho and tried to think up something to say but the thought of holding a conversation made him nauseous. He cast his eyes to the floor and swallowed hard, deciding he wanted nothing more than to keep the silence. He prayed Hinahoho would leave him be, but the large general began to speak in hardly a moments time.
"You're looking pale," Hinahoho said, sparing no words before diving right into it. He appeared to study the ex-assassin closely, his yellow-green eyes narrowing as he did.
Ja'far cringed internally, cursing the world. He hardly looked up to answer. "I'm aware but there's nothing to do about it. It's just stress," He said thinly.
Hinahoho frowned, dissatisfied with the answer. "I think it's more than that and you know it. I've noticed you looking worse and worse every day. You hardly eat, you stay up all hours of the night," He shook his head, "It's not healthy. You should really try to take care of yourself. It won't do Sin any good if you go and make yourself sick."
Ja'far looked up to shoot the Imuchakk general an angry glare. "I'm not trying to make myself sick! I eat and sleep as best I can,"
Hinahoho didn't seem to take the biting tone personally. He pushed off from the wall and approached Ja'far instead, placing a heavy hand on Ja'far's shoulder. The massive palm nearly spanned the entire space between the crook of Ja'far's neck and the beginning of his arm. He had to crane his head back to look the giant man in the face. The motion irritated the pounding at his temples.
"Hey, I'm not trying to get you all worked up," He said giving Ja'far a gentle squeeze. "At least go to the pharmacy to take care of that headache,"
Ja'far blinked in surprise. He'd been suffering in silence as far as he could remember, but then again, his brain wasn't working quite as well as it usually did.
Hinahoho gave him a knowing look and tapped the side of his head with a single finger. "You've been rubbing your temples for hours and you look like you're trying not to upchuck. It's a dad thing, you know. I can tell when something's not right,"
Ja'far growled and closed his eyes, rubbing at them fiercely. "I don't need someone looking after me,"
Hinahoho shrugged. "I'm just trying to help. Sinbad's usually the one in charge of making sure you don't overdo things, but seeing as he's not awake to tell you off, I don't mind taking over for him. -Temporarily of course," He added pointedly.
To that Ja'far had no response. Hinahoho was right. However much it infuriated him, Sinbad was frequently the only reason he didn't work himself stupid. He had a tendency to get carried away. Most of the time a subtle suggestion was enough, but it was not above Sin to use his royal position to make a point. There had been one particular instance where Ja'far had gone two nights without sleep whilst plowing through trade negotiations with a new province and would have tried for a third if Sinbad had not made an official order that he retire to his chambers immediately. Ja'far had been so embarrassed by the situation he had threatened to kill Sin if he ever let word of it slip to the other generals.
Sin had let it slip, of course, the loudmouth that he was. Ja'far didn't live up to his threat but he had rapped Sin over the head quite forcefully when he'd discovered Shaarrkan and Pisti giggling behind his back over the matter.
Hinahoho pulled him from his reverie.
"Go on, I'll hold down the fort while you're gone," The Imuchakk worrier tipped his head towards the pharmacy with a wink.
Ja'far gave him a bemused look and allowed the faintest smile. He wasn't sure how Hinahoho was managing to keep such a positive attitude in comparison to the rest of them, but Ja'far couldn't help but admire the man for it. The ability to keep face was probably a dad thing too.
When Ja'far reached the pharmacy he paused at the door, startled to hear raised voices coming from within. He instantly recognized the camber of each as he listened through the wood.
Oh for fuck's sake, why now? Ja'far thought, cursing his luck. He let his head fall into his palm and closed his eyes wearily. He was about to intrude on one of Yamuraiha's and Sharrkan's screaming matches and he was certainly in no mood to play referee, or worse, become a target. The magician and swordsman had been fighting even more than usual over the past few days, likely a result of the tense palace mood. It wasn't surprising that the turmoil over Sin might breed conflict, but still. It didn't make the spats any less annoying.
Ja'far was seriously considering suffering through his headache rather than face the bickering generals when the voices suddenly fell quiet. He stood for a few breaths time with his ear at the door. Perhaps they called it a draw? Ja'far bit his lip and weighed his desire to stay out of conflict against the ax splitting his head. A particularly sharp throb settled the debate. He took the knob in his hand and pushed through the doorway quietly, trying to hold himself more gracefully than he felt.
It took a moment for Ja'far's eyes to adjust to the room's odd lighting. Where Ja'far stood, the pharmacy was dimly lit, oil lamps burning to compensate for the windowless walls. Inlaid shelves towered to the ceiling, full of tinctures and medications. A large oak table sat in the room's center, a spill of scrolls, beakers, mortars, and pestles filling its surface. He squinted towards the brightly lit far side of the room. Where the rows of shelves ended, the walls turned to glass overlooking the courtyard to drink the afternoon sun. The second half of the room was a greenhouse of sorts, a glass auditorium of lush medicinal plants in various stages of bloom. The room smelled of flowers, herbs, sterilizer, and earth. There were pots, vases, and shovels here and scrolls, vials, and beakers there. It was an interesting clash of gardening and science.
Ja'far looked around for the two generals. Did they leave through the back door? He wondered briefly before finally spotting them.
Ja'far's mouth fell open in disbelief. It became blatantly apparent why they'd stopped arguing.
Sharrkan had Yam pinned firmly against the far wall, trapping her lips with his own. He had one hand laced through her turquoise hair while the other groped her hip, riding up her robes and exposing a dangerous amount of thigh. She, in turn, had the back of his shirt all bound up in one hand and kneaded his ass none too shyly with the other. Their mouths were locked together aggressively, working over one another in a rough passion, as if they were wrestling for dominance over the kiss. Both their faces were flushed, eyes closed, moaning and growling beneath the others touch.
Needless to say, they weren't fighting any longer, and they were completely oblivious to Ja'far's presence.
The Chief Advisor gaped in mute shock. I should go, I should leave, I shouldn't be here!
He cautiously began backing towards the way he'd come. Now, in normal circumstances, he was a master of stealth, but between his headache, lack of sleep, and overall unkempt composure, he wasn't exactly surprised when his heel knocked against a clay pot. It made a terribly loud grating sound as it scraped over the stone floor.
He froze in a cringe as the two generals broke apart dramatically at the noise. Yamuraiha pushed Sharrkan away with such force, he nearly toppled over a stray chair and had to flail his arms to stay upright. She worked frantically to smooth down her robes and cover up the parts that had been exposed.
Panting and flushed, their gaze found Ja'far almost instantly. For an awkward span, all three generals stared at one other with wide-eyes.
Yam was the first to compose herself.
"What do you need, Ja'far?" She asked sharply.
His voice was tight as a bow, his response was hardly more than a squeak. "Just...just something for a headache,"
In a haughty flourish, Yam strode to a nearby shelf and grabbed a vial of pulverized herbs and threw it to him. He nearly fumbled the little glass container but managed to catch it by the tips of his fingers before it shattered on the floor.
"Thanks," Ja'far said awkwardly as Yam stormed past him and out of the pharmacy. The door slammed behind her.
Ja'far cast a spare glance to Sharrkan. His almond skin was still rusty red with an embarrassed flush when he peered meekly back. "You won't..tell anyone...right?"
The Chief Advisor sighed heavily and uncorked the vial, tossing the medication back in one gulp. For once, he wished it was a shot of something stronger.
Instead of responding, he just scowled at Sharrkan and set the empty glass vial heavily onto a nearby shelf with an indignant clack before following Yam's suit and turning heel out the pharmacy. He didn't begrudge Sharrkan for what he'd seen, but he was feeling a bit resentful for being caught up in their drama. He hated drama, and aside from that he had enough of his own. It would seem tense situations had a tendency to unbury hidden feelings.
He and Sin were a prime example.
As he turned down the corridor he was almost barreled over by Hinahoho. In fact, he would have fallen if the Imuchakk general had not caught his shoulders. The blue-haired man's face was bright and glinting.
"Ja'far! I found you! You should come quick. The medics- they said Sin's waking up!"
Ja'far stared purposefully into Hinahoho's green-yellow eyes, studying them for any deceit or lies. There was only excitement and honesty behind his expression.
Without a word, Ja'far broke free from Hinahoho's grasp and pelted down the hall, robes billowing behind him like a flag in the wind.
If you're reading this story please, please, pleeeeeaaaassseee leave a review on your way out! It would make me so happy! I want some feedback!
As always, I apologize for issues with spelling/grammar. Just a girl trying her best!
Happy Thursday friends!