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: I hope you guys enjoyed the revisions in the first 3 chapters, and I hope I explained my plot twists a lot better. Drop any questions in the Reviews or in my PMs. Thank you for supporting!
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Magi
Chapter IV: Ghosts from the Past
The brisk Samarian spring winds blew in through the kitchen windows, adding malevolence to the Priestess's prophetic revelations.
"How are you able to use Solomon's Wisdom?" The King was distraught, still holding the metal poker, as he demanded answers, "…and, how are you able to summon my Djinn out of his Metal Vessel?"
"The same way Aladdin can use it." The Priestess explained, trying only to give away facts. "Solomon's blood runs through my veins. He is my father."
"You are King Solomon's daughter?" The King inquired incredulously. He shook his head at her divulgence. "Aladdin is King Solomon's son? You're siblings?"
"Yes," The Priestess turned to the Djinn. "As far as summoning Focalor…"
"Solomon's Wisdom grants the user divine omniscience." Focalor added, almost sarcastically, "She is quite literally, the knower of all, Sinbad."
"Like Aladdin, I am also a Magi…" The Priestess clarified using a soft, calm voice, as she held her hands up to try to assuage the King's confusion, "…and I can use Solomon's Wisdom. So, I can summon the original 72 Djinns, even if they are not mine, but I cannot will them to do as I please. Just as how Aladdin can summon Ugo even though he was our father's Djinn, but Ugo mostly acted of his own accord."
The Priestess's proclamations made sense to the King. It is why Aladdin did not seem in control of his Metal Vessel – because he wasn't. Ugo stayed and protected Aladdin out of his own volition.
"Also, I just recognized her rukh. I'm not going to harm our beloved King Solomon's first-born, even if you wish it, King Sinbad." Focalor added nonchalantly, bringing the King's attention back to reality.
"Allow me to show you from the beginning…" The Priestess sat on the bench next to them, extending both of her hands to the King.
The King still aiming the metal poker in his right hand toward the Priestess. He allowed his mind to catch up with her secrets. His fingers shook hesitantly, still being wary of the Priestess. Every bone in his body was telling him to fight or run away from this bizarre woman. However, he couldn't brush her off. Not after Focalor, his own Djinn vouched for her.
"Solomon's Wisdom!" The rukh flowed out of her body in the form of thousands of yellow butterflies. She was still holding her hands out, waiting to show the King snippets of flashbacks of her old life.
He finally calmed enough to put down the poker and cautiously take her hands. They closed their eyes. It was like they were reliving the Priestess's memories.
"This all started in a whole other world, called Alma Torran. Our story began when my grandfather, David, was blessed by Il Ilah, the Black God – creator and destroyer of Alma Torran. After David's miracle, he became the leader of the magicians and the first Senator in the Orthodox Church's Council of Elders, during which time he had a son – my father, Solomon. At first, Solomon was loyal to David and would often volunteer himself to subjugate other species. Still, as my father grew older, he became more curious about other species' way of life and their different cultures. When my father was 12 years old, he was tasked with claiming the depths of the Continental Rift. There, he met the Mother Dragon, the only remaining Dragon of Origin, a race that is said to live for 8000 years. She taught my father many things that made him begin to question the emotionally-biased exclusion doctrine toward other species that my grandfather has imprinted on him. After that, Solomon came to see Mother Dragon more and more, and little by little, his mindset changed. In that same year, my father left my grandfather's following and formed a resistance against Alma Torran's Orthodox government. Together with Solomon's closest friend – Arba and four other divine staff avatars – Wahid, Falan, Setta, and Ithnan, they started searching for the rest of the 72 divine staves – what you know now as Metal Vessels." The Priestess let go of the King's hand and wobbled, almost falling to the ground, not before the King caught her and helped her regain stability. Even with his strong doubts about her, he couldn't help but let his chivalry shine through.
"Are you alright, Samara?" The King inquired, worriedly. He was confused about his own feelings. Moreover, he was conflicted about how he should feel about Samara's true heritage. He had significant doubts about her, but he could not help caring for the Priestess, which confused him even more.
"Yes, I'm fine…" Her skin flushed, feeling a bit embarrassed as she clung onto his forearm. "It has just been a while since I used this power to such an extent…"
"How long is a while?"
"Almost a thousand years…"
"Please, take it easy, Sami." Focalor pleaded with concern. "You can't show a thousand years' worth of history to another person without straining yourself."
"I think it's best if I continue this story without using Solomon's Wisdom for a bit…" Samara sat upright. The King stood, pouring some water into a cup and handed it to the Priestess as he tried to process the load of information she just gave him.
"Thank you, Sinbad." Samara felt self-conscious when calling out his name. He made her uneasy when he looked at her with perplexity. It was unsettling when their fingers brushed against each other when she reached for her cup. What did he think of her now?
"You're welcome." He responded, without any idea of how much his gaze and his touch burned right through her.
The Priestess fiddled with her cup, trying to stay objective. "When my father was 16, he professed his 'love' to his best friend, Arba, saying that he wanted her to see him as an equal instead of a young master."
"Ah, I remember this story quite well," Focalor chuckled, scratching the back of his head. "Arba was so pissed at your father; I remember Ugo saying that she scolded him, 'Don't go professing your love to people when you don't even know what it means!' Ah, she was always quite crude."
"Crude is such an understatement, Fooka…" The Priestess's eyes drooped with regret and nostalgia all at once. "Falan said that Arba's lesson to Solomon was that: He was afraid of love… because your first love is not the first person you decide to give your heart to – but the first person that breaks it. The truth is, my father just wanted my mother to see him as an equal and not as a young master. He wanted her to level with him if he ever became conceited and develop a god complex like my grandfather."
Focalor laughed longingly at the memory, "Even then, a year later, along came you, Solomon and Arba's firstborn – Princess Samara."
"A few months after I was born, my father took in a twelve-year-old Sheba – who would later become one of his Three Wise Magi, and his wife." The Priestess added, her eyebrows moving in such a pitiful way.
"Wasn't this also around the time Tess was born?" Focalor thought back, with his hand on his chin.
"Yes…" A tear fell as the Priestess's voice broke.
"Who is Tess?" The King inquired.
"Tess was Wahid and Falan's only son. He was like a younger brother to Sami," Focalor replied.
"Sheba was welcomed by my mother, Arba. They used to be very close until Sheba developed jealous feelings toward my father and mother's close relationship. I think she envied the way they are like a father and mother to everyone, thus, creating our extended family. I think at the time, Sheba aspired to become like my mother one day." The Priestess continued to narrate. "When Sheba aged a bit more, my mother made her promise to become Solomon's wife, to be by his side even if it kills her. Little did anyone know, it was all Arba's ploy to gain Sheba's confidence again – to lower everyone's guard. Arba said that Sheba is the only one who can love my father and that they could support my father together, serving as his yin and yang."
"Not long after that, your brother, Jedidiah, was adopted – Solomon and Arba's second child," Focalor added.
"It was later revealed that my mother, Arba, stole Jedidiah from villagers that Solomon saved from one of David's magical towers called Gunuds. Killing Jedidiah's parents – it was the first act that initiated Arba's fall into depravity. No one knew it then, but this crime birthed Al-Tharmen." The Priestess paused to wipe her tears. She sniffled before continuing, "She brought Jedidiah into our family to ensure that she still had leverage over my father, that Sheba's feelings for my father would not outweigh hers. All that time, she was manipulating us all." She stared off into space as if drowning in shame, her eyes once again welling with tears of pitying rue. "We were so happy… and my own mother, she—she destroyed it all, like none of it mattered."
The King held the Priestess's hand to comfort her, gaining back a bit of confidence in her after hearing her story and understanding that she, too, was a victim of others' despair. They were more alike than he initially thought. He sympathized with her pain, feeling like they could understand each other.
"My father had his suspicions about the rapid turn of events and the fact that it was way too easy, way too simple – Where did this young boy come from exactly? What happened to his birth parents? – That's also why he was skeptical when Sheba first started seeking him out romantically when she was 17. Arba explained to him that she decided to adopt Jedidiah, and he was in no way obligated to father this child. Of course, my noble father refused my mother's resolve. After all, they already had me, and Wahid and Falan had Tess wandering about, it was easy to expand our family." Again, the Priestess's eyes filled with nostalgia.
The pot of potato soup started to boil over, breaking the tension in the air.
"Ah, I guess it is time for dinner…" The Priestess snapped back to the present time and stretched out a forced smile that squinted her eyes. "Sinbad, would you be so kind as to ring the dinner bell hanging beside the stove?"
"You will have to hear out the rest later, King Sinbad." Focalor went back into his metal vessel.
The students came running in and hugged the Priestess, "Thank you for the food, Priestess! We'll help set the table in the great hall." They started pulling plates and utensils out of the storeroom and got their favorite beverages from the buttery. Four students wheeled in trays with large serving bowls next to the big pot, and the Priestess scooped the soup into the containers. "Please ask King Sinbad to help you with the big bowls because they're heavy and boiling; I don't want anyone to have an accident."
The King smiled, remembering the person he got to know during the past couple of months. "It is wonderfully inspiring how children are taught independence, gratitude, and cooperation at such a young age in this nation." For a moment, he let himself imagine a world where he and she could exist just like this, guiding the future through the children of the present, playing the roles of a mother and father. He shook his head to snap himself out of his silly daydreams. Feeling foolish, he smirked as he looked down and followed the students into the dining hall, remembering the Priestess's revelation about the origins of Al-Tharmen. His calculating side came out, and he started thinking, what exactly did she mean? Is she part of Al-Tharmen? It seemed that his trust was betrayed by this strange woman who can summon his Djinn and have their loyalties turned so quickly.
The children presented the courses beautifully. The King and Priestess sat at the round table at the end of the hall. Along with them were Ja'Far and Masrur from the King's court, and Luna, the commander of the Samarian palace guards.
"Delicious meal, thank you, Priestess Samara." Ja'Far hid his suspicions well behind his compliments.
"You're quite welcome, but the King helped me out a great deal in the kitchen." The Priestess humbly responded.
The King was caught daydreaming again: Besides, she is a magi able to use Solomon's Wisdom. Why is she limiting herself to such a small and developing country? Why did she become so weak after using her powers? Also, why hasn't she chosen a King's Candidate yet? Does Aladdin even know about her?
"You mean, our King Sinbad?" Ja'Far and Masrur both looked at him in disbelief.
The King turned his gaze to his Generals. They all laughed around the table, each of them hiding their own secrets and doubts across the table.