Chapter 4: Rumplestiltskin Part 2

"I saw something today at the marketplace when I was helping out with the groceries."

Being that Alibaba was the only person who would hold conversations with him, Alamir would appear within his room hours earlier than required to get started on the spinning wheel. Without having to ask, Alibaba could tell from the slightly heavy breathing and the perspiration beading on the boy's skin that Alamir was finishing his chores faster than usual.

Alamir was starved of company. Alibaba could understand since he had experienced that same thing when he was his age, although the teen had been a shy and quiet boy in the palace in contrast to Alamir's exuberant personality. Where Alibaba had learned to deal with the loneliness, Alamir's cheerfulness and love for people had yet to recede. Alamir wanted to engage in another conversation, and Alibaba would humor him with that.

Alibaba lowered the palm-sized book that Alamir had given him and looked over to where he was. "What?"

The child didn't reply, now preoccupied with his miniature mountain of hay. The silence between the two stretched. Just when Alibaba thought he was only hearing things and was about to resume back to his reading, Alamir spoke up.

"I saw an elderly man collapse suddenly. I heard someone say that his heart gave out."

Alibaba's lips thinned. "Oh."

"I asked someone who he was. A lady there said that he used to make pottery, but he retired because his back pains were severe. Despite that, he had lived a good and long life, was what she said."

"That's good."

"I wonder if I'm going to die soon," Alamir mused with a light curiosity that would only befit children of his own youth.

"How old are you?"

"I'm…nine? No, ten. I'm ten—I remember Ugo telling me that."

"Who's Ugo?"

"He's a friend. I haven't seen him in a while ever since I was taken here," Alamir said, sadness tingeing his tone.

"Well," Alibaba said, stretching out his legs from the crossed position he had them in, "unless you're suffering from a terminal illness, you're not going to die for a long, long time."

"What makes you say that?"

"You're ten; you're young. You won't keel over until you're as old as eighty."

"What if I manage to live past eighty?"

"Then you would be a very old man," the blonde teased. "With magic-users, who knows? It might be possible that you may live up to a hundred."

"What about you? Do you think you can live that long?"

"I doubt it, but I would like to live a long life."

"When I die, I would die for infinity," Alamir said resolutely.

Alibaba was about to retort about how one could not die for infinity instead of oblivion, but then held his tongue. There was a saying about how the deceased would return to the flow of the rukh. He was somewhat disinclined to believe that the spirits of the dead would recommence their existence in any shape or form, but the idea of the world's natural phenomenon was perhaps true. Given there was someone like Yunan who consulted the rukh regularly, it could be.

"For infinity?" Alibaba murmured.

"I would age to infinity," Alamir beamed.

When the door opened, instead of the servants who usually came by to collect the gold that Alamir had spun, two men entered the room. They were a well-dressed young man and a bulky masked sentry with an imposing height who stood behind the first. Alibaba immediately recognized them to be the master and his guard.

Alibaba stood up, tensed. He had a bad feeling what was about to happen. "What is going on here?"

"I apologize, my dear, but it seems that I can't make any room in my heart for a wife," the master said with a genial smile. It was obvious that his intentions were far from genial.

A cold feeling settled in his stomach. "We had a deal."

"And so some deals are meant to be broken. I hope you'll pardon me for that."

Alibaba eyed the guard with unease. "So…you're going to dispose of me?" he said in a shaky voice.

"You catch on rather quick." The master looked highly amused by that. "It almost makes it a shame to have you removed given your talent, but what's one less rat to the world?"

The master snapped his fingers, and the giant man lumbered towards Alibaba. Immediately, Alibaba pulled out the bird that he kept hidden inside his sleeve and tossed it outside between the bars of the window. He watched the few seconds of the bird stretching out its wings during its descent and then swooping into an arc into the sky. It was those few seconds later that Alibaba was then harshly thrown to the floor. A foot stamped onto his face.

"Now, now. What was it that you just threw?" the master asked, cocking his head to one side. Before Alibaba got the chance to utter a word, he was kicked hard in the stomach. The impact sent him skidding across the floor. He wheezed out painfully, but managed to scramble onto his knees in panic while the master ambled forward.

"I-it was just a bird," Alibaba choked out.

The master slowed down in his steps and stared at him in question. "And where did you get a bird?"

"I-it was injured when it flew inside through the window, s-so I thought to nurse it back to full health as I stayed here…"

"I see." The master jerked down his chin in a nod, and the guard wrapped his meaty hands around Alibaba's upper arms. He then hoisted the blonde up high. Alibaba involuntarily yelped by this sudden action. He attempted to struggle free, but it was futile.

The master exited the room first, followed by the guard. Standing outside the door was a servant who began to lead them away. They descended down the spiral of stairs. The darkness enclosed by the walls was kept at bay by the torch that the servant held; nevertheless, the flickering brightness of the flames couldn't wield off the shadows' black tendrils that appear as though they would try to encroach as the four continued to move on.

Alibaba chalked it off as his general paranoia for creepy places mixed with his internal freak-out of his impending doom. Where the hell was Yunan? Or Kassim? Didn't Kassim say that he would come to his rescue if he freed the bird? He could really use some saving right about now!

When they reached the bottom of the stairway, the master dismissed the servant, who quickly bowed in respect and scurried off. Then the master sauntered along down the corridor where the open windows allowed the afternoon sunlight to enter. They were still in the tower, as Alibaba knew since he remembered the area since his first day being brought here.

He craned his neck to have a look around. There was nary a worker here, unlike how it was before when he followed an elderly maid to his room. Not that it mattered if there was anyone here. It wasn't like he could scream out for help and expect anyone to lend a hand in his situation.

Finally, they stopped inside a large chamber. There was a long rug that was rolled from the entrance to the steps of the stately chair that the master climbed up to sit upon. As the man relaxed into his seat, Alibaba was then thrown forward onto the floor. The blonde gave a grunt as his long hair got everywhere.

"I suppose you're wondering why I personally came to see you apprehended," the master started.

The term "apprehended" was poorly used. Not that Alibaba was going to say anything about it.

"According to my sources," the man continued, clearly not caring to hear Alibaba's response, "there had been a breach within my manor—a magical one—for the past three days. And this sudden breach dated back to the same day of your arrival to my manor. Coincidence much?"

Alibaba, now having pulled himself up so that he was kneeling, stared at the master in unease. What did the man mean by a magical breach? As far as Alibaba was aware of, he didn't possess the capabilities in doing any form of magic. Unless… Unless the master was unknowingly inferring to the enchanted spindle and bird that he had kept on his person… Did the items that he carried set off some kind of trigger?

He nervously swallowed. Did the master view him as a threat? He looked far from circumspect the way he didn't hesitate kicking Alibaba around and how he was lounging on his seat. Perhaps he saw him as a nuisance that required disposing of. The man wanted to have him killed, after all.

"To be honest, I'm rather disappointed. I was expecting you to fight back, but instead you easily allowed yourself to be taken down. I'm assuming that you released that bird as a cry for help, but it won't be of any use." The master shook his head and flicked his wrist. "You just made your own extermination easier."

The floor beneath Alibaba's hands and knees thrummed lightly. He instinctively threw a glance over his shoulder, and his breath hitched in alarm when he saw the guard slowly approaching him. Alibaba rose onto his feet and was about to make a dash for it—where to, he didn't know, but anywhere that didn't cut his life too short. However, his impulse to run couldn't be carried out—his knees were buckling too much.

Facing his demise in the form of a scabbard-wielding man rather than old age was not something that Alibaba had ever imagined. Trepidation seized him like never before. He had lived a rocky life as a kid from the slums and a struggling young prince, but he also lived a cushiony life where he didn't teeter between life and death.

Alibaba vigorously shook his head. No, no, no! This was too soon! Didn't Yunan say that he had a destiny to fulfill? Yunan wasn't even here yet, so Alibaba had to buy time.

"W-wait!" Alibaba cried out, forcing his voice out. "I-I don't understand. I can make you gold, b-but you would turn away from that?"

To his immense relief, the guard stopped in his tracks and turned his attention to the master for directions. To his dismay, however, the master barked out a laugh and rolled his hand to signal the guard's continuation. "Stupid girl, do you honestly think that you're the only one to possess such abilities? There's no use trying to make yourself worth something. You greedy peasants are all the same."

Alibaba inwardly cursed and focused on the situation at hand.

Keeping a wary eye on the guard, he weighed his options. There were two things about the master that he could conclude: the master liked hearing his own voice and was here for a blood-splattering show. The gleeful expression on the man's face aside, the master did say that he personally came to see Alibaba because he was hoping to see him put up a fight. If Alibaba had a short sword, he could probably defend himself from the guard and entertain the master at the same time. Nevertheless, it had been quite some time since Alibaba picked up a weapon and practiced his swordsmanship.

He considered asking the master an opportunity to defend himself by requesting a sword, but then tucked that idea away for now. He steadied himself on the toes of his feet before the guard made his blow, and then rolled away from the attack that was aimed for his head. The scabbard was embedded into the stone wall, but the guard pulled it out with relative ease. Alibaba gulped.

Perhaps trying to fight against the guard wouldn't be such a good idea. He had the advantage of dexterity and was swift on his feet in comparison to the guard's slow-paced steps, but he was doubtful that he had the stamina to keep this dance up. Not to mention the obvious gap in terms of strength. If they were to clash blades, the guard would easily overwhelm him and Alibaba would be killed in an instant.

He yelped in shock when the guard suddenly burst into a lunge. He leapt in retreat as the shiny weapon was swung downwards, and hissed when it managed to nick his calf. A stream of blood colored the skirt of his dress from where the tear was made.

The long fabric was obstructing him of free movement. Before Alibaba once again rolled himself out of danger, he hastily tore off the skirt, leaving his legs bare.

"Things have become interesting," the master laughed. "Why don't you use your magic to save yourself, girl?"

A couple leaps here and a couple ducks there, Alibaba was now pressing himself against the wall. The cut that he received ached and was proving to be quite bothersome, but he ignored it in favor of maintaining his focus on the guard.

Alibaba grimaced. He didn't know much about the master other than the two facts that he established. Well, it did seem like he had a poor view on peasants—was he under the assumption that all peasants were money-hungry? Trying to appeal to him about how he could be much wealthier by keeping Alibaba didn't work out the first time.

Maybe he should try to shower the master with compliments? Or fabricate a story about how he was actually an almighty being? Seriously, what should he do? Yunan didn't arrive yet (or would he ever?) and Alibaba was starting to get tired from all this dodging. The option of fighting back didn't seem plausible anymore.

Just when things couldn't get any worse, Alibaba lost his footing when he landed away from the guard and fell onto his side. Before he could prop an arm up, the guard towered over him in seconds. The man pulled his arm back and held the scabbard over his head, and Alibaba squeezed his eyes shut.

Suddenly, behind his eyelids, Alibaba saw a flash of bright light—it was incredibly bright, and he could feel its warmness against his skin. When the light dimmed, he tentatively opened his eyes, finding Alamir standing between him and the guard.

"Alamir!" Alibaba whispered.

"Goltas, please!" Alamir shouted.

The guard, who had staggered a few steps back, seemed to hesitate as the scabbard in his hand lowered by inches. The master, however, was quick to react.

"What are you doing, Goltas? Finish the girl!"

"Master Jamil, I beg of you," Alamir said with seriousness that did not befit the childishness of his voice "spare this girl."

The master scoffed. "Spare her? You dare tell me what to do, brat?" He slid off of his throne. The amused smile that had been on his face was now replaced by an irritated frown. "You got a lot of nerve."

"I've been collecting money to repay by debt," Alamir said, eyes now averted from the guard to the master who was sauntered over to where they were. "But in my place for freedom, please give it to Cinderella instead."

Alibaba's eyes widened. By money… Alamir couldn't mean…

Jamil raised an eyebrow, curiosity glinting in his eyes but his frown remained. "Oh? Is that so? Have you been stealing again?"

"No, I have not." With that said, Alamir dug a hang into his turban and pulled out the necklace, ring, and bracelet that Alibaba had given to him during the past three nights. The boy held up the trinkets to the master and waited expectantly. Jamil eyed them with a second speculation before snorting derisively.

"Foolish boy—did you really think that these worthless trashes would compensate any payment?"

"T-trash?" Alamir bemusedly looked at the jewelry in his hands.

"Yes, trash. Now, move aside, boy. Goltas has a job to carry out."

"I-I have another proposition, sir!" the child quickly said. "Rather than have my debt settled, I will serve you for life. Just—just please don't kill Cinderella!"

Alamir just couldn't get a clue, could he?

Alibaba pulled himself into a squat and kept both hands on the wall behind him. He kept an eye on Goltas in case the man made any sudden movements to attack, but watched Alamir from the corner of his eye. It didn't seem that Goltas's attention was on him anymore.

"Ugh. You are so annoying." Jamil glared at Alamir. "I hate people who stubbornly don't know when to give up."

For a second, Alibaba feared that the master would hurt the boy by kicking or slapping him. From the stellar treatment that he had been giving him, Alibaba was afraid that the master's cruelty would now extend to Alamir for coming to his defense and ruining his entertainment.

Seeing a sword strapped to the master's hip, Alibaba thought of the worst. Would Alamir fail to live up to a hundred?

Panic gripped him, and his mouth started working without him willing it to.

"He's—he's a Magi! Don't hurt him!"

Jamil's shoulders jerked, his body freezing, but the man didn't take his eyes off of Alamir, who was responding to this with unnerve. The silence was heavy, and Alibaba even felt uncomfortable allowing himself to stabilize his breathing to avoid making unnecessary noise.

From what he could see, Jamil knew what a Magi was. But how did he view them? Did he make a mistake? Did he inadvertently sentence Alamir to his death?

Suddenly, Jamil swiveled at Alibaba's direction, his eyes wide and manic.

"What did you say?"

The master grabbed Alamir's upper arm and hoisted him up. The trinkets that the boy held scattered to the floor as Alamir's other hand flew over to Jamil's unrelenting grip. The man now turned his savage eyes back onto him, eliciting a whimper out of him.

"So you're telling me that this runt isn't merely a magician…but a Magi?"

Rising to his full height, Alibaba took off and bolted towards Jamil. This caught both Goltas and Jamil off guard, who responded to the blonde's takeoff with belated reactions. Alibaba thrust his shoulder into the master's chest, hurtling his weight to cause the man to stagger back and loosen his hold on Alamir. He then wrapped his arms protectively around the child and determinedly placed a couple meters of distance between them.

Jamil watched the proceedings with an apathetic expression. Then his body shook until a snigger escaped him. His amusement took form of eventual chortles.

"Magi… A Magi…" Jamil smirked, narrowing his eyes at Alibaba. "So that's why you're here…"

"Cinderella…" Alamir began, but Alibaba immediately silenced him.

"Quiet, Al."

"Interesting. Very, very interesting." He then called out, "Maimoonah."

A figure drew from the shadows as though the darkness was a pool of water. It entered the light with a fluidness that Alibaba was certain that didn't exist even the most graceful of mankind, yet feet poked out from under the dragging ends of the robe it wore. It was hunched over, and its long hood concealed its face. In its papery white grip was a tall wooden staff that looked as gnarled as its hand.

Alamir tugged at his sleeve. "C-Cinderella, that's him. That's the magician that took my name," he whispered, anxiousness evident in his tone.

"Really?" Alibaba eyed the magician with renewed caution.

"He has my flute in his robes," Alamir said urgently. "I-I can feel it. I know my name is contained in it."

The magician coasted over to the spot next to Jamil. In a croaky and raspy voice, the hooded figure inquired, "How can I be of service to you, young master?"

"Maimoonah, I want to know why you have not informed me that the servant boy here is a Magi," Jamil said in a measured tone, gesturing at Alamir.

"A Magi, you say?" Maimoonah turned, his robe swirling along with his movement. The blonde could feel Alamir flinch. "With all due respect, that child is certainly not a Magi. He doesn't possess a high quantity of magic even before I stripped him of his name."

"Is that right? Then the magic-breach girl over there just happened to be lying about him being a Magi?"

"Ah, her. Now, young master, I don't know what nonsense the girl has been filling your head, but I assure you that he is not a Magi."

"Indeed," Jamil said dryly. "Tell me then, Cinderella, why do you say that he is one?"

Alibaba nearly jumped out of his skin when the master addressed him by name—false allegation or not. His mind frenzied over what convincing lie he could generate. A Magi? Why did he have to say that? Yet the reason being that he was able to proclaim that Alamir was a Magi was when he automatically traced back to their brief conversation of whether he was one or not. There wasn't any certainty that the master knew what a Magi was—Alibaba sure didn't until he met Yunan (and still didn't know much)—but he did and there was no turning back from there.

As it turned out, there wasn't any need to fabricate a story for Alibaba's infiltration and Alamir's magical inheritance. Flying into the chamber from a high window was a man, donning his usual bearskin, surfing downward on a carpet. Kassim.

AN: I'm not much of a writer for fight scenes, and, honestly, this chapter didn't satisfy me. Nevertheless, I hope that you enjoyed it.