Jafar.
Where had he heard that name before?
"You ever hear of Jafar? You know, a tall guy, kinda snakey?"
"You're a… genie?"
Jafar smirked. "That's correct."
Mozenrath stood up slowly, not taking his eyes off the stranger. Nothing annoyed him more than unexpected guests, but this was a genie, a real genie who could grant him any three wishes he wanted.
Um… wow?
This genie didn't look at all like the idiotic blue djinn who had accompanied Aladdin so many times before. This one was so different. He looked human. A man probably somewhere in his 40s or 50s. He was tall, and dressed like royalty, gripping a gold staff with the head of a cobra in his right hand. Very neat, a clean-cut beard dressing his face, and the most mysterious-looking set of eyes fanned with long eyelashes.
Mozenrath blinked, then straightened himself back into his usual proud stance whenever greeting some outlander. "My name is Mozenrath, high ruler to this dark kingdom." He looked up at Jafar mockingly, crossing his arms and giving a slight accent of a cruel smirk. "But I suppose that under these circumstances, you may call me Master."
"Mozenrath your master!" Xerxes reiterated, appearing at the sorcerer's shoulder.
Jafar raised an eyebrow. "Beg pardon?"
Mozenrath's eyes narrowed. "Master." His lips pursed. "I expect you to address me as that from now o-"
"I don't think so."
The young wizard's cold eyes suddenly widened at this. "What?!" His jaw clenched. "But the one who holds the lamp is the master of it!" He glared up at the taller man, his fists clenching at his sides. "And you, my friend, are forced to obey by my rules."
Jafar glared back. "Really? Well, I happen to have my own set of rules." A scroll magically appeared in his long fingers, promptly dropping it into Mozenrath's hands. "Rule one." He began as Mozenrath hastily opened the scroll, "I am bound to grant you only three wishes. After that, I go back into the lamp. And no, you cannot wish for more wishes. If you wish for me to call you master, I shall. But that would be quite a waste of a precious wish now wouldn't it?" Mockingly, Jafar buffed his nails on his cloak and smirked down at the incredibly irritated expression on Mozenrath's face. "Rule two," He continued, "Even if you wish for it, I can't kill anybody. Rules three and four are similar whereas I cannot make people fall in love or bring anyone back from the dead." He grinned. "Any questions?"
Mozenrath looked like a spoiled kid who didn't get what he wanted for Christmas. "No."
"Very well." Jafar said, making the scroll in Mozenrath's hands disappear.
"…But know this, Jafar!" The younger man retaliated, "If you had come to me two years earlier, I would've had you begging for my mercy!"
The old genie rolled his eyes uncaringly. "Really now?"
"Yes." Mozenrath hissed. He averted his glare from the genie to the floor, biting his lower lip in frustration. "I'll have you know that I was once the most powerful sorcerer in the land."
"Most powerful!" Xerxes growled.
Now where had Jafar heard THAT little statement before? He let out a low sigh of discord at the thought.
The young wizard's attention suddenly snapped back up to Jafar, bearing a rather curious expression. "What?"
Jafar doubled-took, a bit surprised at the boy's sudden change in mood. "Eh?"
"Why did you just do that?"
"Do what?"
"You sighed." Mozenrath raised an eyebrow. "Are you okay?"
Jafar suddenly became a bit defensive. "Fine. I just got bored with your little teenage angst show just then."
Mozenrath's cheeks reddened. He hated it more than anything when people talked down to him. "I'm twenty years old, I'm not a teenager!"
"Just an eyelash away from being one though." Jafar grinned. He was beginning to have fun with this.
"At least I'm not exactly in the prime of middle age!" Mozenrath shot back, crossing his arms in a challenging fashion.
Jafar smirked. "At least I can do…" He snapped his fingers, making sparks fly out as he did so, "Magic!"
Mozenrath frowned. "Go to hell."
Jafar sauntered over to the table, leaning against it with one hand. "Well, if you really want magic." He looked over his shoulder at the boy, grinning in amusement, "You could always WISH for it."
Mozenrath paused, a stange look of helplessness suddenly crossing over his face, leaving behind the fury that had been there a moment ago. Jafar's grin faded. This really wasn't the reaction he had expected.
"…I" Mozenrath faltered, "I can't."
Jafar turned back to him, walking slowly towards the boy with a puzzled expression. "And… um… why??"
"Distain-" Xerxes began, immediately silenced by his master gripping him by the throat.
Mozenrath gave a low hiss at the eel. "Shut up."
Jafar blinked. "Distain?"
"Nothing." Mozenrath mumbled.
Jafar looked at the boy curiously. What about Distain? Did he mean the old sorcerer? Surely if anyone had messed with that guy, they would've paid for it somehow. His attention shifted to the landscape outside a nearby window, recognizing it with sudden recollection. "It would explain the surroundings." He glanced back at the sorcerer. "The land of the black sand didn't suit his best interest?"
Mozenrath looked up. "You knew him?"
"Briefly." Jafar said bitterly. "He was a very unpleasant person to be around. But I suppose you would know that."
"...Suppose I would." Mozenrath huffed, getting a bit tired of this trivial chit-chat. He straightened himself back into his usual ruthless attitude and narrowed his eyes at the older man. "Well!" He said, "I guess there's really no point in keeping you out when I haven't thought up any wishes yet." He picked up the black lamp, pointing it in Jafar's direction. "So get back in the lamp, genie."
Jafar shot him a look of sheer irritation and disappeared inside the lamp with a red puff of smoke. Mozenrath let off a short gasp as it happened, feeling the familiar sensation of magic vibrate off the lamp once Jafar was back inside of it. Raising an eyebrow, he placed the lamp back on the table. This genie wasn't like the ones that hung around Aladdin. Nope, not at all.
The young sorcerer shrugged his shoulders. He'd deal with it later.