Back in the citadel, things were just as unpleasent.
"It was in here this morning!" Mozenrath yelled, pacing frantically around his room, "Where could it have gone?!"
"Mozenrath sure lamp was here last?"
"Trust me on that, Xerxes."
Xerxes thought for a moment. "Mamluks take it?"
The wizard shook his head. "Don't be dense, they know not to come in here. Besides, they wouldn't know what to do with a lamp if they were given instructions."
"Oh." Xerxes tried to think of something better. "Maybe they see who take lamp then?"
Mozenrath blinked. "There's an idea."
Quickly, he raced down to the main hall where about four mamluks were keeping guard as usual. They were expressionless as usual, but came to attention when their master stood before them.
"Listen." Mozenrath said in a stern tone, "Have any of you seen any suspicious people… or, things lurking around here?"
The mamluks looked at each other for a moment, and then shook their heads.
The wizard swore.
"…With a lamp!" Xerxes added, appearing at Mozenrath's shoulder, before being batted away.
It took a moment, but one of the ghouls finally gave a low confirming groan. The young sorcerer raised an eyebrow. Someone unsuspecting stole the lamp? It made him even more irritated than before, but he managed to stay focused. "Which way did they go?!" He demanded.
The mamluk raised a stale hand and pointed out a nearby window towards the deserted city.
The wizard gave a curt nod and turned quickly to Xerxes, not having another moment to waste. "Listen closely," He began, "I need you to gather up as many mamluks as you can find. Tell half of them to search the city and keep the other half with you." He looked out the window. "Disdain's behind this. I know it."
"What Mozenrath do?" Xerxes asked.
Mozenrath bit his lip, a mixture of fear and determination stirring inside him. "If someone stole the lamp for him, he's got to be in the city somewhere. I'm going to go find him."
The eel's eyes shot wide open. Before Mozenrath could get to the front doors, he was already trying to tug him backwards by his cape. "No!"
The wizard's irritation level grew a bit higher. "What do you mean no?!"
"He kill you!" Xexes yelled in his scratchy high-pitched voice, "Xerxes remembers what Disdain be like! He want revenge! Mozenrath stay!"
Normally, Mozenrath would've simply smacked the blubbering away. Instead, he just sighed. "Xerxes… he won't kill me."
"Yes he will!"
"No he won't." He kept his voice calm, trying not to make the creature freak out even more. "Look… I knew Disdain as well as anyone. If he finds me, he won't kill me. I'm his… apprentice. If he wanted to kill me, he wouldn't do it right away."
"But-"
"Xerxes." He lowered his voice. "If you need to find me out there, just follow the lights to the brightest."
He was referring, of course, to the strange-looking lights all over the town that glowed when something magic was near. Used to keep out intruders. People like Aladdin had sometimes tried to sneak over there in the past, which evidently failed due to his magical little friends who were always following him.
"But find the lamp first. That's an order."
"…Okay." Xerxes managed to say, before obediently flying off.
For obvious reasons, the sorcerer brought two mamluks along with him. Only an idiot would go searching for something as dangerous as Disdain alone. The zombie soldiers were strong, But Mozenrath knew that they'd probably be useful only as a distraction. Things like mamluks didn't last long in the face of pure black magic. Hell, they didn't last long if anything in heavy blasts hit them. But hey, better safe than sorry.
They were currently on a trail, down a street where the magic-sensing crystals kept getting brighter and brighter. He sighed. If the dead ex-sorcerer really didn't want to be found, he would've destroyed the lights. No doubt he was expecting his little apprentice to come looking for him. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Magic or not, he wasn't going to spend the rest of his life hiding from some dead old man.
They crept closer. Mozenrath pulled out the sword he had brought, preparing himself for any attack. "Stay close." He whispered to his guards.
No response.
Mozenrath curiously looked back. Only a few yards away from him lay the bodies of his mamluks, their heads sliced clean off without so much as a gasp.
But before he had time to even be alarmed by the situation, he felt something hard strike him on the back of the head, turning absolutely everything black. He collapsed to the sand ground, unconscious.
Sahib smirked, tossing part of a now-broken glass bottle away.
When the wizard finally came to, he found himself in the middle of a floor in a large dark room. It looked like some kind of temple. Probably a ruin in the city. The first inconvenience he noticed was that his hands were bound behind his back.
Bad sign.
Nevertheless, Mozenrath tried slowly to get up, but cried out as pain shot through his legs, crumpling to the floor again.
He looked down at them. They were broken in at least three places each.
"Oh, you're finally awake."
Mozenrath looked up. There stood the ghostly figure of Disdain, smiling coldly down at his crippled prisoner. The live sorcerer shot him a death glare from his spot on the floor, baring his teeth in sheer loathing. "You."
"Me." Disdain responded, stomping his foot on one of Mozenrath's broken legs, relishing in the pained shriek that his apprentice gave off. The ghost smiled. "Mmm, I've really missed hearing that." He pressed down harder. Mozenrath gritted his teeth, an inadvertant tear sliding down one cheek, trying his hardest not to make any of those stupid painful noises that his 'master' enjoyed so.
Disdain frowned. "Brat." He gave another hard stomp to the leg, smiling upon hearing a response from the younger man this time. Finally, he took his foot off and crouched down beside him, removing his turban and combing cold fingers through his raven hair. "We haven't gotten the proper chance to talk have we?" He asked.
"Take…" Mozenrath hissed, "…Your filthy hands off me."
The response he got was fingernails digging into his scalp. Mozenrath snarled and tried to break away from his grip. It only grew tighter, making a thin line of blood run down the side of his face. Disdain grinned. "You've grown a bit of an attitude, Mozenrath, But just as stubborn as I recall. Lets see how long it takes before it caves in."
Mozenrath's eyes narrowed. "I'm not afraid of you, Disdain."
"You say that like you mean it."
"I do."
The dead man released his grip on the bloodied scalp, bringing two of his long skinny fingers to his lips. "I could always tell when your blood ran cold." He purred, lewdly licking the blood off his fingertips. "But enough trivial banter. This is where we begin to have a little fun."
Mozenrath's upper lip twitched a little at the vulgar thought, but managed to hold back the rest of his agitation. "I'm used to it." He replied, coldly.
Find the lamp first. Find the lamp first.
Xerxes was becoming more and more irritated as to where the stupid lamp was in that allahforsaken city. Whenever they came across one of the glowing magic-sensing crystals, the magic source ended up being a few mamluks that were usually found patrolling the city. The task of finding the black lamp seemed to be getting more and more impossible.
But what was worrying him more than anything at the moment was whatever was happening to Mozenrath. Xerxes shuddered. He wasn't lying at all when he had said he remembered what Disdain did. He knew that if anyone had the potential to completely break the young man, it was him, never mind that Mozenrath had killed him before- that was when he had actual magic. What did he have now? A bunch of living-dead soldiers and a flying talking eel.
…And one wish.
Rounding another corner to what used to be the central marketplace, another place where the lights were glowing, they found a stray mamluk that wasn't with a group. It wasn't walking or keeping watch, which was what the others continuously did. Instead, it seemed to be waiting or something.
Hearing footsteps approaching behind him, Sahib smiled, tired of the anticipation. "So master," He said casually, "did you get-"
"GUH?!" Xerxes shrieked in surprise.
The zombie stopped, turning around and realizing exactly who was there.
The eel stared back at him, jaw askew in a mixture of shock and puzzlement. The other mamluks examined the stranger with eerie curiosity. Mamluks couldn't talk. They didn't even have too much of a free will. But here was one who could talk and apparently think.
"Uh…" Sahib fumbled, unsure of what to do in this sort of situation, "Hi?"
Xerxes finally came to his senses and glared at the mamluk. "Who your master?!" He demanded.
"Master? Eh…." The zombie said, trying to play dumb unconvincingly. "What's a master?"
The eel let out a snarl. Now he knew why the mamluks from the citadel hadn't reported any suspicious people. Now he knew how someone had gotten in. "You…" His beady little eyes gleamed. "You with Disdain!"
Out of excuses, Sahib unsheathed his sword from his belt. "Say another word and I'll turn you into a sushi bar!" He yelled in a crackly voice.
Bad idea.
In an instant, the 20+ mamluks that had been following Xerxes surrounded the two, their 20+ swords aimed at the talking ghoul's throat. Loyalty was key, and right now, it didn't pay to be a traitor.
Xerxes smirked.
"Eheh…" Sahib let his sword fall to the ground and raising his hands in surrender. "Just… kidding?"