Everything belongs to their respective owners.
Magi belongs to Ohakta,
Sinja fanclub belongs to Thisisthee-n-d and Soofireanon,
Insperation belongs to the Sinja Fanclub,
The Story belongs to me.
As the new day came, a few other things came with it; the fresh dew, the beauty of the sunrise, and Ja'far's next spell-induced inability.
Sinbad awoke first, something that had become common over the recent week. Apparently, not only did this spell drain Judar's magoi, it drained Ja'far's as well. So Ja'far was constantly tired now a days, which was cute, but it didn't do well with everything that was happening. Yamraiha, Aladdin, Yunnan, Sphintus and even Titus were all working on trying to figure out exactly what Judar did to Ja'far, but, according to Yunnan(Who Sinbad was only willing to work with because it would benefit Ja'far), the black Rukh are nearly impossible to work with unless fallen or forcefully turned black due to magic. But seriously? THREE Magi's working on reversing a spell, not to mention two highly skilled magicians, and it had already been a week? Ah, what was that sound? It sounded like it was Ja'far, but why did it sound like whimpering? Ja'far never whimpered. Ever. Sure, he might make sounds that sounded like it when he was in excruciating pain but… He sat up and glanced at Ja'far, his eyes widening at what he saw. The rukh were gathering around Ja'far's body, enough of them around that he could see them, even barely. But that was enough to tell what color they were.
They were black.
Judar's magic had gone off.
No no no no! Sinbad started to panic as he got up, not even bothering with his hair as he ran to the door, then off towards Black Libra, where he knew Yamraiha was most likely to be. When he reached the lab, he flung open the door, and he was so thankful when he saw Yamraiha sitting at her desk, pouring over a scroll. At the sound of the door being thrown open, Yamraiha looked up, shocked.
"M-Majesty, what's the matter?" She asked, standing up quickly. She had been researching about spells involving black rukh, having the documents transferred to Sindria from Magnostadt, as they couldn't exactly figure out how to deal with this spell without making it worse. The scrolls talked about how to manipulate black rukh, but not a lot about casting spells with it.
"It's Ja'far! The rukh around him are all black… And there's so many that even I can see them!" Sinbad said, his voice coated in worry and panic over Ja'far. Slight relief washed over him as he saw Yamraiha begin to panic, glad that she was as worried about Ja'far as much as he was. Whenever anyone else in the palace was sick or injured, Ja'far would always watch over them and care for them as best that he could. Some people were known to even volunteer to guard Yamraiha's lab, in hopes of possibly getting effected by one of her spells because Ja'far would worry over them. Most everyone in the palace have had some kind of crush on Ja'far at some point, either because he was adorable, hot, or just kind enough for them to fall for him. Some just admired him because of his skills, though Sinbad liked Ja'far for, well, everything about him.
He was glad that Ja'far's motherly tendencies had affected people so much to be worrying over Ja'far to the extent that, if Ja'far could see it, it would be even better. He loved that about his people. Everyone cared for one another in a way you just didn't see much in the world anymore.
Yamraiha quickly grabbed her staff, mumbling about how she had just been trying to figure out some way to reverse the timer on the spell. Normally with a spell as basic as that, she could undo it in a heartbeat. If it was white Rukh. The Rukh differentiate between the two main kinds, and there were different formulas for completing the same spell with each kind of Rukh. Judar had mastered the formulas for both black and white Rukh, so he could technically combine the two kinds of Rukh into one spell. While Judar was fallen, that didn't mean he could only use one kind of Rukh. Since the Magi's were loved by the Rukh in general, they have access to both kinds of Rukh. Although, it seems a Magi can't use black Rukh unless they know of it and have fallen. But, since Judar once belonged to the Great White Flow or the Rukh, he can still use the white Rukh. So, Yamraiha and everyone else were lost on what to do in terms of helping Ja'far, as if Judar used both kinds of Rukh for the spell, then it would be the equivalent of having to kinds of magoi in one's body, but they couldn't identify if Judar had or not.
So now it was a race against the clock to reverse engineer this spell before they found out in the worst way possible.
It was a race against whatever timer Judar had set to save Ja'far from himself.
Or, technically, from Judar's spell.
But anyway. Yamraiha and Sinbad ran back to Purple Leo, surprisingly fast for how little sleep they've both had, but adrenaline will do that. It was also surprising they didn't wake up more people on their way. As soon as Sinbad noticed he left the door open to the room he worried even more, realizing that someone could wake up Ja'far. It's one thing for Ja'far to wake up on his own, but when someone else woke him up, it was basically as if handing the pale General a paper forfeiting your own life, signature, and dagger all in one. Sinbad heard noises coming from the room, and sounding like Ja'far from before, and he hoped it wasn't because he was being woken up. He watched as the spellcaster ran into the room, himself following behind, and they both silently thanked Solomon that the noise hadn't woken up Ja'far.
Strange.
Ja'far normally would wake up if someone whispered something five doors down, his ears were so sensitive.
Without another thought, Yamraiha started scanning Ja'far and trying to repress the spell, confirming her worries. Yes, Judar had used both kinds of Rukh on Ja'far for this spell. And it was strong. "Y-Your Majesty… Please, leave." Said Yamraiha, surprising Sinbad. What? Why was he supposed to leave?!
"Yamraiha, what's wrong? Why do I have to leave?!" Sinbad asked, his voice rising slightly with his panic.
"I-It's harder to focus with more people in the room… I'm having a hard enough time with you here…" She said, her voice strained as she focused on the spell, and it dawned on Sinbad. She wasn't exactly kicking him out; she was trying to make this easier on herself, himself, and Ja'far. And he trusted her on that, but still… This was Ja'far. As soon as he noticed Ja'far slightly writhing, and the sounds he was hearing before were getting louder, and he silently cursed himself for being so damn useless as he left the room after grabbing his things he'd need for the day, since he had no idea how long this would take.
People had told him how much it hurt to see someone you loved in pain, and he sort of knew how it felt. He'd seen Ja'far mortally wounded and clinging to life many many times, and damn did that hurt, but that was out of his control all those times, and every time he'd been able to do something about it. Now, he couldn't do anything except watch and listen as Ja'far was in pain with nothing to do. They'd told him that it'd hurt; But now, when he knew that there was something he could've done to prevent it, aka keep Ja'far in his room where he could protect him, he was sure that everyone had understated how much this hurt. This felt like his heart was being ripped out of his chest, bones shattering and his nerves surging pain throughout his entire body, centering in his chest. Or, it felt like his ribs were collapsing in on themselves, slowly crushing his heart, stabbing a million times with shattered bones into his very soul, shattering it into a thousand little Rukh birds as they tried to reassemble themselves into something resembling a human life.
No one had ever told him it would hurt just this badly.
But, then again, how could Sinbad explain exactly how much this hurt him, killed him?
He silently thanked Solomon that at least Ja'far probably wouldn't die from this. That, at the very least, was a relief.
Sinbad grumbled slightly and went to Ja'far's room, where he knew he could at least be alone for a while. As he saw the blank cream colored walls and the non-existent decorations, he smiled. Somehow, it was comforting, the sheer simplicity of the room. It was just like Ja'far. While Sinbad preferred to decorate his room immensely, Ja'far, still with his habits from his raising, kept almost no personal items. He really only had three that Sinbad knew of, other than his robes for home wear, sleepwear, and official business. His household vessel, his keffiyeh, and his circlet with the ruby red gem were Ja'far's only personal items aside from the aforementioned outfits along with some skin ointments for sunburns and when the wires on his household vessel started chaffing his arms.
He walked into the room, towards the green and cream colored bed, and he sat down once he reached it, starting to work on brushing his hair. He knew that once Yamraiha was done she'd go get him, but that did nothing to calm his nerves or his pain. Somehow, someway, he'd have to make it until Yamraiha was done with Ja'far. Unfortunately for him, Ja'far's room was next to his own and they had made the walls between the those two specific rooms thin so Ja'far could hear if anything happened in Sinbad's room that might endanger him. But now, that was hindering Sinbad, as he could hear Ja'far's noises of complete and utter pain, which he knew Yamraiha was trying to calm down. Near screams and sobs echoed into the room as Sinbad brushed. His heart clenched with every noise that he heard and he hurried with his getting ready. You may be asking why he's doing this. Well, because he most likely will have to face the day without word of Ja'far's condition.
And that scared him more than anything else in the world right now, but it must be faced.
So, with that in mind, Sinbad put his metal vessels on and tied his hair back, leaving the room and going quickly to the White Aries tower and rushing to the meeting hall, knowing he'd have at least a little time to himself away from Ja'far's pained sounds which would forever echo in his memory.
He'd kill Judar for what he did to Ja'far.
He sat down in his seat in the meeting hall, putting his face in his hands slightly as he groaned in pain. No one had ever told him how much someone else hurting like that when not dying could hurt him like this. Damnit.
And the absolute WORST person just HAD to walk in at that very moment.
Damn Yunan the troll to hell.
"Sinbad?" Yunan asked, a hint of amusement in his voice.
Sinbad huffed slightly, twitching in anger. "Go away Yunan."
"Oh, and here I was thinking you wanted my help with your little Ja'far problem. Oh well, looks like I'm not needed. Bye~" Yunan turned around, a small smile on his face when he heard Sinbad call out for him to stop. "And why should I? You are such a meanie, Sinbad!" The blonde huffed, turning back around to Sinbad.
Oh how Sinbad hated this. He knew that of the three of the four current Magi's in the world that were willing to help, Yunan would be the one that would be able to help the most.
But WHY did it have to be Yunan?
"I… I need your help with Ja'far." He admitted through gritted teeth, rage swelling up inside him. He despised Yunan for ushering in the age of the Dungeons, and in turn aiding Al-Tharman. But right now he needed his knowledge to help Ja'far.
"You know that's all you had to say, Sinbad. I may not particularly like you or trust you, but Ja'far is another story. I'll go help Ms. Yamraiha." He said as he turned around and walked off, leaving Sinbad alone frothing in anger.
"Should we tell him?" Asked Yamraiha to Yunan, having scanned over Ja'far and they both repressed the pain for a brief period, and forced him to rest more. They had found out Ja'far had two weeks before the different rukh inside of him tore him apart, and they were debating whether or not to tell Sinbad about Ja'far's condition. They had figured out Ja'far now could no longer hear, but they had not been able to tell whether or not Ja'far still had no sight. They hoped that once one side effect came, another went away.
But was the Rukh ever on their side?
It seems that they weren't.
"No, we shouldn't tell him. He has enough to worry about already, without that added onto it. We'll find a way to fix him, don't worry. Just tell him of the other side effect for now." Even as he said this, Yunan felt unsure. If this spell was as complicated as they thought it was, only Judar could undo it. He knew Sinbad would shut himself down if Ja'far died, and his world would cease to function, which would cause drastic changes to the world in a very very bad way.
Yamraiha nodded, her face filled with worry as she looked back at her patient. "Shouldn't we wake him up…?" She asked, her teal eyes brimming with tears at the thought of her friend never waking up.
"Perhaps… Do as you see fit. I trust in your abilities as a magician." Yunan smiled and vanished in a flutter of rukh, and Yamraiha sighed. She knew he was only there to help Ja'far, but it was so much easier working on magic with a Magi around.
She walked over to the bed and tapped Ja'far on the shoulder, hoping that he would be sensitive enough to awaken from that alone, but to no avail. So, as she cast a spell to awaken him, she felt her magoi running low and she had to stop for both her patient's safety and her own. Luckily it was enough to wake up Ja'far, blank impossibly pale green eyes opening, the look of a haunted person in those dead looking eyes. A look of panic stretched across Ja'far's face, as he could tell he was in Sinbad's room by the smell, but he could also tell that Sinbad was not in the room, but Yamraiha was. He tried to say something, but no words could he hear come out of his mouth.
Actually, no words could he hear at all.
His head pounded with pain and his body felt like it had been crushed and reshaped with the most brutal of tools, everything causing an immense surge of pain and the feeling of sharp needles across his skin, digging in into his muscles and bones. Where was Sin?! Why couldn't he hear anything?! In this black, dark world he saw nothing, he heard nothing, and he felt as if he could say nothing. His sight had been taken from him, his hearing had been taken away from him, and he was sure his words would soon follow.
He was completely and utterly useless, and he felt it.
The soul crushing pain of realizing one's own insignificance and uselessness, the hurt of knowing he could do nothing if those he cared for were in pain. It felt as if he were being pulled into a world of darkness with no hope of a light whatsoever, and the one person he knew could save him had no idea at all of his own pain and misery.
He felt a tap on his shoulder, and he assumed it was Yamraiha, but he couldn't hear anything she was saying, if she was saying anything at all.
Words passed through his mind and he thought, "Well, at least I won't have to hear how useless I am. Knowing it for myself to be fact is already more than enough." It was strange, wasn't it? The echo of his voice in his mind, the sounds and sights in memory flooding into his mind. He remembered something like this once, and Yamraiha had simply wanted to bring him to Sinbad, so he allowed himself to be moved, not noticing the tears welling up in his eyes at the thought of Sinbad. He knew he was in his nightclothes, but he wasn't sure how to change himself now that he had no sight and no hearing. He used to base what was where by how far away it sounded, but no he had no basis for what to do at all. He could smell the wine in the air, a little stronger than normal in the cold crisp air, so he assumed someone nearby had been drinking. That must mean its nighttime, thought Ja'far as he noticed the scent of Yamraiha leaving the room, so he waited.
However, once memories of the dark were in his mind, they tended to stay there. He remembered once being blindfolded and thrown into a cage in his younger years when he had disobeyed a rule of Sham Lash, and they had broken his legs and arms. He could still feel the ache even now, above all other pain. It was strange, yes, but Ja'far had noted at the time that his punishments were always so severe when he was young. He knew he was an oddity, as both his parents had the darkest hair one would ever see and they weren't exactly pale folks, nor did they have green eyes or freckles. He also knew that The Organization, in an attempt to genetically engineer a fanalis, had performed multiple injections of different dna and genetics into the womb where he was developing, and once he was born the magicians in The Organization were preforming various spells on his weak, fragile body, damaging his very rukh, and making it so his magoi could blend into anyone, or anything, else's. He remembered that as soon as he was able to comprehend words he was taken away from his parents, as were all the other children. He remembered the promise of, once you had become the best trained person in the group, you could see your parents again. No one had told him he'd have to kill them. And no one had told him they'd mutate his legs to be able to match the speed of a fanalis, somehow his nose was already at the level of a fanalis' nose, due to something being injected into the womb while he was developing. His brain was unusually fast and able to comprehend things others couldn't at the young age, making him a very fast learner and unable to forget something once he'd learned it. He hated this, and he never told anyone at all about it, especially because he had even been referred to as a monster by the people who made him a monster. He could feel the tears pouring down his face as he smelled Sinbad's natural scent drawing nearer, his scent reminding him of the sea, flowers, and sandalwood. He could tell Yamraiha was with him, the distinct smell of her various potions covering her natural scent.
He assumed the door was opened as he suddenly was embraced, enveloped in Sinbad's scent, and he could feel the various metal vessels pressed up between them. He had no idea what was going on around him, his body being moved by Sinbad. Pain shot through his body like a billion tiny needles and he thought he might have cried out, but he didn't know. He could feel his vocal cords vibrating, so he assumed he had made some kind of noise.
As soon as Sinbad had seen him, he became panicked even more for his advisor. Yamraiha had told him Ja'far could no longer hear, but they had no idea what else would happen. He had embraced his lover when he saw him in tears, whispering comforting things to Ja'far and silently praying that Yamraiha had been wrong and Ja'far could still hear him. He prayed he could still reach Ja'far in whatever dark abyss he had been forced into. Judar had taken his sight, He had taken his sounds, and he will take his words. No more should be taken away from this person whom Sinbad wished to give the world to. His little star in the darkness, his Ja'far. He heard a choked, broken little noise that he assumed was in pain and he let him go, his eyes watering. No… No… He tried to talk to Ja'far, the tears spilling when Ja'far didn't respond, those dead, nearly pure white eyes staring off into nothingness. No no no! The tears spilled over, and he heard the door close behind him and he assumed Yamraiha had left to go rest. How.. How in the world was he supposed to help Ja'far through this? The only thing that had brought Ja'far back from the depths of his own memories the past had been Sinbad's words and actions, and now he couldn't use his words to bring Ja'far back from whatever personal hell he's living in. He gently stroked Ja'far's hand, knowing it calmed him down slightly when he did it. Damn, if Ja'far's sense of smell wasn't so sensitive, anyone could do something to Ja'far and he might confuse that person for him. Never. He'd never let that happen. He needed Ja'far safe… He needed him to be smiling again.
If anyone dared to touch Ja'far or take advantage of his weakness, then they forfeit their life.
His murderous aura was interrupted by a wheezing sound from Ja'far and he quickly let him go, trying to find a handkerchief that Yamraiha had infused her magoi with for circumstances such as this, when Ja'far's breathing condition, and as soon as he found it he ran back to Ja'far and carefully placed it over Ja'far's mouth, making him breath through it and activating the magic infused with it to help him breathe. The panic he felt, he knew was nothing compared to what Ja'far was feeling. The inability to breath, the pure dread and adrenaline pumping through every ounce of your body trying to get air in even though he couldn't. He knew it made Ja'far sleepy, but that never made it worth it for these to happen. It was often that it happened during the colder months, and Sinbad thought maybe he should get a scarf, but for now they made due with the handkerchief. He heard Ja'far's breathing become less and less labored as it became easier and easier for him to breathe, and Sinbad's pulse slowed as he calmed down from the panic. These attacks didn't happen often, but when they did, it was one of the most terrifying things he'd ever witnessed. He held Ja'far close, their exhausted bodies resting against one another, just enjoying each other's warmth after that horrifying instance as Sinbad moved the handkerchief away from Ja'far's mouth as he heard Ja'far's breathing even as he passed out from the adrenaline crash. Sinbad sighed, moving them both so that they were laying down against one another with the bodies pressed together in a comforting way. The king lay awake, contemplating all the ways he could murder Judar without condemning Ja'far.
Some way, somehow, Sinbad would destroy Judar. This he vowed to himself, unaware of the black rukh fluttering around him.
Sorry this one's a bit short, but I got a sudden burst of need to write and this was the result.
