A/N: Well, here they are ... the new chapters. Thank you for your patience, and thank you even more for reviewing thus far. Please, enjoy and PLEASE R/R!

- Chapter Six -

Jasmine backed away in disbelief, her heartbeat steadily decreasing and nearly stopping to a halt. No. This couldn't be happening. "What did you do?" She screamed at Mozenrath, whipping around to face him nearly laughing at the sight of Aladdin's bewilderment. Jasmine felt the cold slowly return to her body and deaden the liveliness she had just previously felt. How could it be so fleeting? Such joy traveled through her, in and out, within a matter of broken seconds. It wasn't fair. None of this was. Yet, he was alive, and he was sitting before her, incomplete and confused of who she was.

"Nothing that can't be reversed." Mozenrath sighed. "I must say, the set up was all to perfect for this one. You both are making this so easy on me." Gloating with his victory, Mozenrath sat in his massive, worn chair and placed his feet upon his desk. "Too easy, if you ask me." He inspected his cuticles on his fingers before polishing them on his tunic and admiring the imperfection.

"What are you talking about?" Jasmine muttered, refusing to leave Aladdin's side. He sat a few feet away from her, watching the scene and trying to comprehend what was happening and why he was suddenly forced to see this. He didn't know this girl, so why was he brought to view her possible undoing? She seemed to be asking for it, but it really didn't matter to him, as long as he wasn't beaten for her behavior. Strangely, he felt something other than pity when he saw her eyes, a small fleck of recognition, a distant memory perhaps. She said she knew him, but he had no memory of her. He had very few memories and the ones he did, well, they all consisted of Mozenrath beating him and punishing him for his past deeds . . . whatever they were.

"Well, first things first" Mozenrath snapped his fingers without another thought and Aladdin disappeared. Jasmine panicked and searched around the room with her eyes wildly for him and Mozenrath chuckled lightly, "Relax Princess, relax. He's downstairs, locked safely away. I wouldn't want him to hear our conversation, it may confuse his delicate mind." He brought his hands behind his head and rested it against his palms.

"What are you talking about? What is going on here?" Jasmine could feel herself becoming hysterical, as if she were losing her last remaining grips on reality. How much more of this could she possibly take? Was this all some sort of twisted and sick mind game? Was she dreaming again? Nausea began to churn in the bottom of her throat once again and caused a wave of delirium to wash over her fatigued body. The toll of Mozenrath's blasts were finally beginning to hit her and without constant rushes of adrenaline, she was becoming weakened and tired.

"Let me lay it out for you, plain and simple. I understand you regal types need small words." He paused and rolled his tongue around in his mouth, savoring the taste of the moment. He could see her becoming worn and her attempts to fight it, but also saw the doubt and disbelief in her eyes. "First of all," he began, "I assure you Aladdin is alive, what you just saw wasn't a mirage or a trick or anything. Fact of the matter is that he never died." He saw the rage begin to simmer behind her placid eyes, anger for making her go through the relentless pain of loss for nearly a month, but he shrugged it off. "Now, what you saw die in your hands was, in fact, a mirage. It was a fake Aladdin, switched at the perfect, precise moment with the real Aladdin." Jasmine's brow furrowed as she watched him, slumped on the carpet she could find nothing relatively real about his statement. It was Aladdin, she held him as he told her he loved her forever and died soaked in his own blood that covered them both. The blood that stained her clothes. The blood that blurred her vision. His blood. Her own spirit had died with him, and now, how could she understand that he never died? That she was so stupid to fall for Mozenrath's twisted game?

Mozenrath went on to continue, but she couldn't wrap her mind around the facts he had spoken and began to doubt what she saw that perilous afternoon. Was that really him? Wouldn't she have noticed if that wasn't her Aladdin? "I began fighting with Aladdin while you were being encircled by Mamluks and told him I was going to finish him off and then go after you. I spared him no detail and told him all the gruesome ways I was planning on doing it and then how I was going to go to Agrabah and take the throne. Without you and Aladdin, the Sultan would easily fall. This infuriated him, you see, which I expected, and then went on to tell him I had suddenly changed my mind. Struck with a perfect idea, I was going to spare him and let him watch you die all the horrible ways I had described. I then let him think he had slipped through my grasp and he rushed over to try to inform you of my plan." He laughed, the memory replaying in his own mind as he explained, mirth outlining each of his words.

Jasmine recalled the afternoon, stirring up memories from the battle she thought she had forgotten. What he was telling her was beginning to make sense since she did remember Aladdin trying to reach her at one point, just before he died. Or . . . appeared to die. It all swirled together, what she thought had happened and what Mozenrath was retelling her. The two altered stories began to intertwine together and weave a tapestry of a memory she thought she had once clearly understood. Nearly memorized by his story, she sat in silence and let him continue.

"I went over to you and stood behind you, sword ready to go. Well, that's what you both thought, but in actuality I was never really planning on killing either of you, despite what I said earlier. As wonderful as it would have tasted, it wouldn't have helped me accomplish my task." He became suddenly solemn as he gazed at her, his voice dangerously dark and venomous, "But believe me, I wanted to. I wanted to see him watch you die. I wanted him to feel the pain, that bitter and unrelenting horror you have now felt." He rose from his desk and ran his hand along the edge as he walked around it and over to her. He looked down at her as she sat on the carpet before him, as a child would when hearing a story by an elder, eager and wide-eyed for the conclusion. "When you thought I brought the sword down and killed Aladdin, I actually teleported him to my dungeon and replaced him with a mirage."

" . . . But the blood . . ." She murmured, gazing down at her hands and recalling how crimson they had been stained and how long it took to wash it off. She had scrubbed her skin until it was raw to get the lasting effects of that horrible afternoon off her tainted body. Her cracked and sore hands had bled from the scrubbing and mixed with his, tears fell into the carmine bowl and she had stared at her own disheveled reflection that was blurred by the scarlet tint of the water.

"All very convincing, wasn't it?" He laughed and sat on the edge of his desk. "None of it was real, you were just too distraught to realize it." He sighed and rolled his eyes. Scoffing, he added under his breath, "Affection. What a waste."

"Why? Why did you do all of this? This ruse. This was all just some sick game, everything is to you." She sneered and glared at him, remembering with hope that he was alive . . . even though he had no recollection of who she was. But it was something. Something to hold onto with every last thread of desperation she could summon.

"Because you're predictable. You both are." He feigned a yawn. "Boring, actually. Don't you see? I knew Aladdin would come to your rescue, I knew he would try and take the blade for you, I knew you would think he died, and I knew you would come after me once your initial sorrow and 'pity-me' wore off and you'd seek revenge. All so typical, all so predictable. I wish I would've put money on it."

Jasmine wanted to sleep, a headache began to arise from her disarray and caused her temples to throb. Sleep would be such a sweet release from all this torment and tumultuous explanation he was suddenly throwing at her. Three weeks of mourning for his life and her future and he had been locked away and alive the entire time, yet not thinking of her. "But if you didn't do anything to him, then why doesn't he have any memory?"

Mozenrath nodded at her question, he had been expecting her query. He began to explain to her then what had transpired between Aladdin and Mozenrath after Jasmine and the others had left his lands. He had gone down to his dungeon to where Aladdin was bound against the wall, shackled at his ankles and arms, his wrists held above his head. Bruised and battered from the battle, he sneered at Mozenrath when he had entered the cell. His cheek was black and blue and he had a nasty gash across the front of his arm. Aladdin's clothes were torn and the blood that he had spilled from his various cuts were dried and clotted with sand and debris. He was a mess, his hair was matted and full of dust and his skin was darkened with the residue of the black sands he had rolled in, yet he looked as fierce and enraged as he could possibly make himself. He would not give the satisfaction to Mozenrath of seeing him broken and despicable. And worse yet, afraid.

"How are you enjoying your accommodations? Are they to your satisfaction?" Mozenrath quipped as he entered, two Mamluks obediently in his wake. The cell door slammed and echoed through the expansive chambers of his dungeon, the clang of the metal sharp and piercing as it reached Aladdin's ears.

"Where's Jasmine? What have you done to her?" As much as Aladdin tried to hide his fierce concern about her and what had happened after he suddenly found himself locked away, he knew Mozenrath could see his deep fear for her well being. "I swear to Allah, if you hurt her in anyway, I will make you pay for it a thousand times over! Where is she?" Straining against the shackles that kept him stapled to the wall, Aladdin grunted against their weight and hold and tried to find a weak spot in the tarnished and rusted metal, yet there was no avail. "Where is she?" He shouted, "Tell me!" Aladdin demanded, glaring at Mozenrath and gritting his teeth.

Mozenrath watched him strain and fight against the wall braces, and did so with humor. This was the hero? This was the man that had bested him before? He was nothing but a love sick puppy, how could this be his greatest enemy? How absurd it was that he was more concerned with a spoiled woman that with the outcome of the battle. The world was going to the dogs, that was for sure. "She is safe, as far as I know." He could see the relief in Aladdin's eyes, the fleeting moment he nearly sighed and smiled with ease, but he kept his stone composure and his expression of hatred on his face held strong. "Although, I must say, I do believe she may be a tad distraught." At Aladdin's nearly puzzled expression, he continued. "You see, the moment you were sent here, I switched you with a mirage of an identical clone of you and placed it where you stood. Jasmine had looked away, such a brave heroine, and believed I stabbed you."

"You're bluffing." Aladdin scoffed.

"Quite the contrary, street rat. Your dear Princess held, what she believed was you, in her arms as you bled to death on my sands and died in her arms. It was quite tragic and very upsetting to her and the men, all very dramatic. She was upset, to say the least, when she left here. So, you might as well forget counting on your band of morons coming to attempt a rescue mission. I do believe they are holding your memorial as we speak." Mozenrath began to pace the small cell and felt a twinge of amusement when he noticed a small bowl of water on the ground near Aladdin. How perfect, he was so close and yet so far. Beautiful. Perhaps a few days like that would teach him some proper respect to a monarch such as himself. "Yet, this leaves me with my next quandary. What to do with you?" He stopped pacing in front of Aladdin, a few inches away from his face and smiled. "I think I will take away one of your greatest treasures." He paused. "Something you can't win or fight for, something that I can rip away and you would lose it forever. Nothing left. No chance of recovery. No way for you to obtain it once again." He paused as his smile widened. "And there isn't a damn thing you can do to stop me."

Aladdin's fists clenched by reflex. "Mozenrath, if you touch her or do anything to her, so help me, I will –"

"Did I say anything about the Princess?" Mozenrath asked, mouth agape.

Aladdin eyed Mozenrath for a moment, his stomach sinking like lead and his arms tingling from the lack of circulation. His body ached and yearned for food and water, but all he could think about was Jasmine, somewhere in pain because she believed he was dead. No chance of expecting a rescue, no chance of being saved. He was on his own. Yet he wondered . . . what was Mozenrath playing at? "Then what are you talking about?" Aladdin asked cautiously, curious as to what he was intimating at.

Mozenrath reached out to Aladdin and tapped the side of his temple and smiled deviously. "I can take away your memories. I can rip away every single fragment, every single remaining thought of your past and every single moment you hold so dear. All within mere seconds I can tear it all away from you and leave you with nothing more than a hollow shell and a confusing existence." Aladdin turned away from Mozenrath's touch and gnashed his teeth. "All you would know is what I decide to share with you. Perhaps I will make you my personal minion, or care-giver to Xerxes. Yes, my servant to wait on me. How delightful, my enemy now my slave." He paused and smiled at the idea. "Regardless, you will have nothing left of your old life. You might as well be dead."

"Why? What do you gain from that?" Aladdin asked, temper searing and rage boiling. Why hadn't he expected something like this? As much as he played off his emotions with an outer line of anger, inside, Aladdin was extremely fearful. If it was possible for Mozenrath to do as he said, what could be done to stop him? How could Aladdin go on without memories of who he was? How could he go on without the thought of Jasmine? It struck him then that if Mozenrath did erase his memory, he would never know who Jasmine was. Their lives together would not exist in his mind. He couldn't live like that!

"Gain? There's nothing to actually gain except an infinite amount in pleasure of stealing away something I know you would give your life for. Yet, if I do decide to do it, you won't even know who she is. Oh, it's truly amazing. So utterly perfect." Mozenrath smiled and backed away from Aladdin, he was all ready beginning to plan how and when he would take it away from him; leaving him to anticipate for a few days seemed like a much better and rewarding endeavor. "Hmm, but then . . . I suppose Jasmine will eventually come back for me, you know, to finish me off in some manner." As if the lightbulb went on in his head, Mozenrath's face lit up for a moment as he turned to Aladdin. "Ohh, a trade, I love it. She'll switch her position as Princess for you and I can waltz right up to the palace and claim what is rightfully mine."

"You're insane." Aladdin nearly laughed, "She'll never do that. She would never trade Agrabah away for anything. Not even me. Agrabah is her first priority. You really have lost it this time, Mozenrath." Mozenrath approached Aladdin again, bringing his face inches away once more.

"Are you really so sure?" He said, smiling and glaring into Aladdin's eyes. "And, I don't believe I've lost anything. Although, sooner or later, I will see to it that you lose your mind." Aladdin could not contain his fury any longer and unleashed it as he spat in Mozenrath's face for lack of anything else to do. It was childish, he knew, but it was all he could think of and do given his situation and it got a strong reaction out of Mozenrath as the sorcerer reeled back and wiped away the saliva with revulsion The gauntlet began to steadily glow, a haze of majestic violet as Mozenrath clenched his teeth in outrage. Yet, as quickly as it came, he released the powerful glow and let the glove cool, the power draining from his fingertips. "No." He said, nearly a whisper. "No, you're not worthy of this. No longer are you worthy of my powers, I have better things to waste them on. Street trash does not merit such magnitude."

Instead, Mozenrath gathered his composure and strode back over to Aladdin and in one, brief and smooth movement, he brought his knee up between Aladdin's legs in an effectively venomous blow. The sudden and unexpected contact caused a grunt to escape Aladdin's lips as he attempted to silence his groans. Unable to double over, Aladdin winced in pain, air whooshing out of his lungs as the anguish slowly radiated across his body. Coughing, Aladdin tore his thoughts away from the current situation and held back the tears that began to pool in his eyes. The pain was searing, nearly blinding.

Mozenrath watched Aladdin fight to hold in the pain and enjoyed seeing his ailing expression concentrate on ignoring the hurt he was obviously in. With a twirl of his cape, Mozenrath began to stride out of the dingy room, pushing the cell door open with force. He turned back to Aladdin once he reached the threshold, and snarled, "I hope you enjoyed that, because I will personally see to it that it happens five times a day." He waited a moment and savored the sight of his foe in pain before turning and making his way to his study.

Mozenrath watched Jasmine and saw her sorrow for Aladdin and understanding of what he had gone through in the weeks they had been apart. "You, black-hearted demon." She snarled, rising from the carpet and bracing herself against the onslaught of horrible weariness that washed over her body and mind. "How dare you." She said through clenched teeth under her breath.

"How dare I? Need I remind you that you and your street rat strode into my kingdom, uninvited, with your soldiers and demanding a war? Well Princess, don't ask for battle if you can't handle the defeat."

"What you did was just sick and demented. Taking away Aladdin's memories justifies nothing." Hands splayed before her, she realized she fighting a losing struggle. They would never see eye to eye on anything and she was wasting time and energy arguing with him on his horrible acts. She could scream at him until she passed out about his malefic ways and he would never empathize.

"But on the contrary, Princess . . . it served a very artistic purpose for me. Everything has all been an elaborate piece of the puzzle and the picture is finally coming together. You see, Aladdin's memory loss allows me to offer my proposition. The next piece."

"What are you talking about?" She asked, rolling her eyes . . . yet, she already knew what he was going to say.

Mozenrath's mouth was set, emotionless and deadly somber as he spoke, "A barter . . . Aladdin's life and memory in trade for renouncing your position as Princess."

To Be Continued . . .

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