DISCLAIMER: Magi and other discernible characters/quotes/citations belong to their respective authors. I do not own original content, Magi. No profits were made.

COVER CREDITS: MAGI THE LABYRINTH OF MAGIC BY SHINOBU OHTAKA (c). Cover Credits: Original Fan Character by Aladdin.

Cited: magi. Fandom wiki

A/N: Here's another EDIT for your viewing leisure.

A/N: Special thanks again to December Silentvale & Sumiko the Great, and BB for helping me piece my ideas together and covering up loopholes. Thank you to the readers who support and follow this fic, as well - Happy Reading Y'all! As always, drop any comments or questions in the Reviews or in my PMs.

#StaySafe #Quarantine2020

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Magi

Chapter II: The Holy Kingdom of Samaria

The true High Priestess bowed, taking the napkin out of the King's hand, their fingers slightly brushing, "The honor is all mine, King Sinbad."

"Please, call me Sinbad… or Sin, for short," The King bowed back after retracting his hand. He felt a strange, burning sensation where their skin brushed against one another.

"Then, please, let us drop all formalities. You may address me as Samara." The Priestess said gracefully as she helped Luna up from where she was kneeling.

Luna stood behind the chair she was sitting in before, holding a first aid kit she grabbed from one of the guards. Priestess Samara sat down, and Luna bandaged her wound after applying a coagulating ointment.

"Thank you, Luna." The Priestess glanced back at her commander with a smile peeking through the thin veil. She set the slightly bloodied napkin down on the table.

The King sat as well, pouring the Priestess a fresh cup of tea. He always carried this smug atmosphere around him, especially in situations like the one they just had where all of his suspicions were justified.

The Priestess took a sip from her cup, lifting her veil slightly, using her free hand, "I do apologize for all the commotion, Sinbad."

"No need to apologize, Pries—Samara. I completely understand your welcoming strategies." The King responded politely, holding his cup in front of his mouth. "I can't say it's my first, though. Once upon a time, I received a similar welcome from the queen of Artemyra, just east of your kingdom."

"Ah, yes, Queen Mira and I are good friends." She revealed, setting the cup back down on the table.

"Friends?" The King exclaimed, in surprise, making the cup clatter on its saucer as he set it down. His eyes narrowed, his brows crinkled, and his head tilted to the left in confusion, "One of her daughters, Pisti, is one of my Eight Generals. Yet, I haven't heard of any formal alliances between Samaria and Artemyra."

"That's because there are none. The Queen and I have simply been friends for a long time." The Priestess took another sip of tea, lifting her veil a bit, without breaking eye contact, adding to her enigma.

The King chuckled softly at the Priestess's cryptic answer before changing the topic, "Interesting country you're leading here."

"How so?" The Priestess set her cup down, pursed her lips, and squinted her eyes a little bit. Her head also tilting to her left, preparing to be offended.

"I notice that there is no currency involved in your trade. I used to think money controlled the whole world." He waved his right hand in the air, raised his eyebrows, and tilted his head toward the opposite direction of his hand as if challenging her to prove him wrong.

"Have you ever known true peace, King?" She parried, challenging him back with her deep blue eyes as she wrapped her fingers around her teacup, fiddling with the rim.

He maintained unwavering eye contact with her, forcing away the smile beginning to form on his left cheek. He did not want to seem disrespectful by the way he found this woman amusing and frankly, exciting. He was trying to recall the last time he was so engaged in a topic that truly interested him.

She continued, "Here in Samaria, we don't measure wealth by gold or any currency; Here, we measure wealth through happiness, health, and equality."

The King chuckled. His notions about how money makes the world go round slowly getting farther and farther away in his mind. He felt the rush of a new pursuit, and it intoxicated him – she was about to prove him wrong. "How do you measure such things?"

"Walk with me…" The Priestess stood and guided the King towards the edge of the garden, where a viewpoint allowed them to see the rustic city; Luna, Masrur, Ja'Far, and the Samarian guards standing only a few yards away at the gazebo. "Everyone is given an equal opportunity in this country, to be whomever they want to be. The only condition is that they contribute to the greater good – this is how we maintain our peaceful lifestyle."

"An equal opportunity…" The King looked out into the city, his views and opinions starting to push back on her idealism. "Even the throne?"

The Priestess gently smiled while staring at the King's profile, "Even the throne."

"So, anyone can simply… challenge your ruling?" The King turned to the Priestess in disbelief. Thinking in the back of his mind, You're joking, right?

She smiled again as if she could read his mind. The silhouette of her smile slightly visible to the King through her veil, "Checks and balances."

"How does that work?"

"Why so interested?" She leaned her lower back against the short wall, "Do you plan to challenge my ruling?"

He chuckled and offered an honest answer, "On the contrary, I aspire to rule my country with your progressive confidence."

"Well, lucky for you," She swung her hands forward then back, the momentum gently peeling her off the wall, "I believe in hands-on learning."

He smirked and held his hand out to the Priestess, "No better way to absorb the culture than to immerse oneself in it."

She looked down at his hand and back up into the King's golden eyes and walked off, ignoring his geniality once again, "Come, see the Samarian way of life."

They walked back to the great hall of the castle; this time, only their generals followed suit. A few castle scholars were teaching several children. A couple of students were studying heat magic, a few were working on healing potions, some were studying arithmetic, and in the corner, they were attempting to build a scale model of the castle.

The Priestess stood by the doorway, allowing the King to peek in, "Once children turn thirteen in this country, they may start schooling to ascend to the throne. The school is right here in the castle, and students are given a well-rounded education. After two years, all the students are tested mentally, physically, and for leadership skills. Students who excel in all three categories are offered a spot to continue onto secondary school for the throne. However, the truly essential students are those who decline, and those not offered a spot because they are given a chance to find their true passion. Some become engineers, doctors, scholars, magicians, farmers; some choose to live a much simpler life – whomever they all want to be. Sitting on the throne has become more about representing the people and their interests; the high priest or priestess holds little governing power over the citizens. The only power given to the throne is assuring the peace is maintained and that everyone's happiness and well-being are protected."

The King shook his head gently, his skepticism evident by an unbelieving scoff, "How do you make it all possible with such limited resources?"

"Skills trade." The Priestess closed the door to the great hall, extending her patience for the King as he tries to wrap his head around their unusual governing style. "This is a country where knowledge is wealth – and that wealth is given to the people, by the people, for the people. The only steadfast law in this country is that you must contribute for the greater good, everything else you need to survive and live a good life are learned skills – the skills learned by every citizen once they start schooling for the throne. Every citizen learns ancient techniques on how to grow crops, cook, build their own houses, defend themselves, even cure common illnesses. So, we have rarely needed to trade with any other countries, nor have we needed to trade with each other with essentially meaningless trinkets such as gold or jewels or money. Besides, the closest countries to trade with is the barren Dark Continent and Artemyra – and well, you know how difficult it is to form trading alliances with our dear friend, the Queen."

They both laughed. This gesture caused the generals who were walking a few feet behind them to exchange foreboding glances with each other.

"Heliohapt actually comes all the way from the northeast corner of the Dark Continent to learn their medicinal practice from us. Come, allow me to show you more." The Priestess turned to her commander, "Luna, we're going into town."

Luna was almost caught off guard once again, due to the Priestess's interaction with the King. She bowed after collecting her thoughts, "Ah, yes, High Priestess Samara." Luna turned to the Sindrian men, "Please come with me. I will show you to your rooms."

The foreign men agreed in unison.

Luna guided the King and his Generals to their respective chambers, where the customary Samarian attire of simple robes and facial veils waited for them to change in. They all exited their chambers once they were outfitted and started walking to the front of the castle.

"Do we all have to wear these veils as well?" Masrur inquired with a slight annoyance, holding the veil in his hands.

"I believe so. It seems customary to the attire as we saw when we rode through the kingdom." Ja'Far replied, fiddling with his own veil, trying to figure out how to put it on.

"I wonder what they are for?" The King questioned further as he also started putting the accessory on.

They all met the Priestess with a smile on their eyes at the top of the castle steps.

"Samarian robes fit you well, gentlemen." The Priestess complimented. She was impressed that they managed to put the garments on correctly, even the facial veil.

"We were wondering what these veils are for? We noticed it is customary for everyone to wear in this country. You didn't even remove it even though we were having tea earlier." The King inquired, tugging on the bottom corner of his veil.

"The long robes hide the body, and the veils hide a person's face, revealing only the eyes which we believe are the windows to a person's soul. The complete attire is a Samarian tradition to prevent any preconceived biases or judgments cast upon a person." The Priestess explained as she started walking down the steps. Then, she turned toward the King, "As for taking the attire off in someone else's presence, it is an intimate gesture between two people in love."

"How romantic," The King responded, a profound need to touch the Priestess's hand washed over him, which took all of his willpower to overcome, "Falling in love with someone's soul first, instead of appearances."

"As you'll see for yourselves when we get into town, in Samaria, we believe that true wealth can never be measured, it is something intangible but fills your simple life with so much meaning. Almost all Samarians eventually dedicate their lives to furthering their learned ancient knowledge to be passed onto the future generations, for the greater good." The Priestess stopped beside the same rickety carriage that the Sindrians rode when they first arrived.

The King opened the door to help her into the carriage. He sat next to the Priestess and his Generals across from them. "Forgive my forwardness, but that sounds like a dream, Priestess."

"Understandably so, but we have years of history to prove the efficacy of our simple way of life." She countered confidently, blowing the King's biased argument out of the water.

"What exactly do you mean by wealth is given by the people?" The King asked, crossing one leg over the other and interlocking his fingers on his knee.

"Hya!" They could hear Luna's faint commands to the horses as she drove the carriage.

"You asked how checks and balances worked in this country – isn't it genius?" They could hear the horses' hooves stomping on the ground as the carriage started to pick up speed, allowing her shoulder to brush up against the King's arm lightly as they rattled inside the small space, "Here, there is no monarchy to monopolize the kingdom's wealth if there is no measurable 'wealth,' to begin with. By giving all the power to the people, you cannot assassinate one single leader. Not one person is more valuable than the next because all the people are valuable together. Samarian wealth is technically immeasurable. At first glance, we seem like a poor country with limited resources, but if you look closely, each citizen chooses their path in life – some farm, some fish, some build, some cure, some teach, but all of us trade with each other based on necessity. Wealth and power come from the citizens' ability to thrive on their own. So, naturally, all governing authority is controlled by the people."

"How remarkably liberal…" Ja'Far commented, perplexity heard in his tone and seen on his expressions.

"Yes, so even the most powerful trading company in the world has nothing to offer us." The Priestess taunted, gently shaking her head at the King while her eyebrows moved higher on her forehead.

The King chuckled mischievously, "I could think of a few things."

Ja'Far scowled at his King, concerned that he might give in to his lascivious nature and carnal desires, as he often does, consequences be damned.

"Is there a judiciary system in place?" Masrur inquired, easing the tension building up in the air.

"As I mentioned to your King, every citizen is taught most of the skills they need at a very young age. Every citizen can defend themselves and those they hold dear. Should a dispute arise, the citizens try to resolve it peacefully, and should a dispute get out of hand, the citizens themselves usually police it and, if needed, bring in scholars to act as mediators."

"That is an incredible amount of trust you put in your people…" The King observed, his eyes glimmering with awe and growing respect for the Priestess.

It was hard not to show her the respect she deserved when just her very gaze commanded it. She stared back into his golden eyes, toe to toe, if you will, with the High King of the Seven Seas, and argued, "That is where you're wrong, Sinbad… I did not put my trust in the citizens of this country – Samaria has been a republic long before I ascended the throne. The cycle of power has always been in the hands of each citizen in Samaria because no one single person should ever oversee and dictate the fates and destinies of anyone else, much less everyone else – that is hubris."

Just when he thought he was getting to know her, she does or says something marvelous that stupefies him. She put him in his proverbial place, yet again. "Astounding sagacity… I conquered seven seas, and I did not accomplish what you have attained here in this incredible country."

"Right, where did we go wrong?" Ja'Far whispered to Masrur sarcastically.

"Progressive confidence, Sinbad." She smiled gently again, steering the mood toward a less tense direction, "Do not forbid any knowledge to the people, and they will surprise you. Give them everything they need to know, and they will make the right informed decisions."

The carriage stopped at the edge of the city. The King looked out of the window before opening the door. He helped the Priestess out of the vehicle once more, and they began walking into the market.

"Good afternoon, Priestess Samara." An older woman, hosting a fruit stand, came up to the group. She was hunched over gracefully, her hair tied up in a bun held the strings to her veil. Her thin, wrinkly hand shakily reached out to the Priestess, and Samara had to bend forward a bit to meet her eyes, "Thank you so much for taking such good care of our granddaughter while she is studying. She always comes home to us at the end of each week with such wonderful stories."

"Granny Mikaya, Yasmin is an excellent student and friend to her classmates." The Priestess clasped the old lady's hands, "Besides, she's the one taking care of us by bringing your apple pies to the castle."

"Ah, yes," The old woman patted the Priestess's hands, "I told her that it is high time she learned to make the recipe on her own."

"That would be delightful, Granny." The Priestess hugged her.

"Oh, it is always so good to see you, Samara." The Granny shuffled into her house, "Come inside, I have something to give you and the kids."

They all followed her inside of her humble home, made of clay. It was a bit tight because of the large Sindrian gentlemen. Nevertheless, Granny Mikaya gave a box of warm pie to Sinbad.

"Why, thank you—" Granny cut the King's sentence short as she started to stack more pie boxes onto his hands, and onto Ja'Far and Masrur's hands.

"Thank you so much, Granny Mikaya." The Priestess hugged her again as the Sindrian men loaded the pies into the carriage.

"You're welcome." Granny turned to Masrur and held his hands, "Now, there was something I could use your help with – My roof has been leaking!"

"Oh, so those fifteen boxes of pies weren't actually a gift?" The King and Ja'Far said in unison.

"Skills trade, gentlemen." Luna enforced with a smile.

While Masrur persevered as a carpenter in exchange for pies, Ja'Far was coerced by twins to help them get their cat down from a tree in exchange for a song and dance, and Luna went to visit her family. The King and the Priestess were finally able to have some time alone. They sat on the pier, dipping their toes into the cold water. The Priestess was playfully splashing a bit of water at the King, giggling through her veil as she turned to look at his profile once more.

The King gazed into the open sea, reminiscing about his brief time in this country and could not help but recall his memories of all the decisions he made leading up to his half-falling into depravity. "I wish I had met you sooner… I'm afraid my hubris has allowed me to become a sly person after accomplishing so much. Sometimes, I do not recognize myself anymore. I feel that I have become someone I never wanted to be…"

"You've met me now…" The Priestess touched the King's chest; she could feel the rukh flowing through him, "Your heart, mind, and soul… have become filled with so much darkness from others, but it is never too late to change if you don't like who you are now. 'Now' is fleeting… Please, allow yourself to shed some ghosts from your past."

The King's heart ached as he held the Priestess's hand against his chest.