Huge, huge thanks to SmileRen, Perpetual Dreams, neverchange5986 and Akumarayne for the reviews and kind words. And of course everyone following, favouriting and reading thus far. I'd say more but...I am so tired right now its unreal :p

Enjoy~

Chapter 8

"So what exactly were you trying to do outside? Kiss me?"

From under the folds of those expensive waves of silken clothing, Alibaba's eyes snapped open. Then he looked up from where he had slept on his many, neglected books and coughed loudly.

Aladdin smiled at finally getting the prince's attention.. Still late in the night following that beachside festival, the two had climbed the steps of the Black Scale Tower rather than returning to their respective bedrooms. Those libraries and their endless, ceiling-high shelves sought to house more books than the Magi had seen in a while. And, of course, the ones relating to rukh had to be on the highest of those floors. Their faded covers and yellowed pages showed they were part of the priceless, expensive collection gathered carefully from the corners of their world.

It was more than what Aladdin had seen in Reim. Those spiralling steps had split off into many lo9ng rooms. Right now they set in the tallest room of the tall spire, overlooking the moonlit gardens.

Alibaba had followed him there, without even asking. But far from talking about the incident, or rather non-incident – the two had endured; he clearly was just falling asleep there. As golden eyes flicked to Aladdin, and the prince seemed to show no sign of leaving, he looked more irate than usual at being disturbed. "N-no! Of course I wasn't. We're both men for one thing...why would I do something like that?!"

And he leaned up from the pile of faded blue and red covers he had used a pillow, rubbing their indentation clear from his cheek and glared. He smoothed his elegant, extravagant Kou-styled clothing, which clearly was anything but suited to such a place.

"Well, you're the one who pushed me to the wall and leaned in that close," Aladdin told him rather blankly, as Alibaba smoothed his short hair and avoided his eyes. He looked flushed, and Aladdin knew he was lying. The wavering of his scattered yet bright rukh were a clear indicator of that. Why make this complicated? Or just admit to such a simple thing as wishing to kiss someone?

Like everything, such as wishing to forget what happened within his home country, Alibaba clearly had his reasons. And his somewhat misguided, irresponsible way of dealing with such things.

Even so, Alibaba waved his arms, gesturing wildly to show him how wrong he was. When Aladdin knew he was quite right. "...D-do you need to talk so blatantly and say it like that?!" he exclaimed. He upped from his chair and his scattering of books, to the small, airy arch of marble overlooking the courtyards below. And took a calming breath. "...Why would I do such a thing?"

"Usually because you like someone I guess..." Aladdin replied. "Or to see if they like you."

Alibaba didn't reply, and seemed to want to avoid him following his abrupt awakening. Aladdin shrugged, propping his palms on his elbows and swung his legs under his tall chair as he looked back over the words, taking in none of their meaning. After all, Judal had told him that much; that kissing someone was a way of telling if they liked you. The Magi hadn't had his first kiss yet, and at that moment felt rather cheated.

Even so, he knew the prince had been through a lot. He offered a brief smile to the back firmly placed to him from across the room, and nodded. "Alright then. I made a mistake."

Alibaba nodded, but didn't turn round. Still not focusing completely, he thought back to that moment not long ago. That warmth of a thumb crossing over his lips, and the soft breath grazing over his face. He hadn't really looked to back away, he knew that much. And he – had – never thought twice about him being a good king; he was simply misguided.

Aladdin yawned; the thought came to him he was merely tired. Following the festival at the beach, and his mind dwelling on that darkness clinging to his brother's lock of hair, a few things currently unnerved him. His thoughts seemed muddled and strange, even if some thoughts seemed better than others. Currently sleep caused those words to blur, and the main good reason for the rash decision to visit a library rather than sleep was his current company.

He should be sleep, they both should. More than any worry was the thought these mysterious black rukh were very real. And that he'd seen such a thing. He of course wasn't too sure what it meant to have someone else's rukh – and even black rukh – in the body of another. It had just worried him, and indeed that prince of Balbadd had given him much to think over.

It seemed unfortunately he wasn't going to find anything. He aimed to stay in the libraries there for the night, reading, as he had done so many times over the years. And when she woke, he'd ask Yamaraiha about it when he received his first lesson from the shapely magician. Until then, well...given everything he doubted he'd be about to sleep.

Alibaba covered his mouth in a yawn. "Well, so you know I wasn't trying to kiss you. I just..." he trailed off flatly, into a nervous pause as an easy excuse evaded him. His rukh wavered again, and he looked back. "I was just trying..." Aladdin sat back, hands in his lap and blinked, curious how this would go. "...Stop it! Stop looking at me like that! Just...read your books, alright?!"

"I read all these already though," Aladdin commented. "Maybe you should go to sleep, Alibaba-kun. You seem like you need it."

Far from taking that as advice, in fact seeming insulted he'd leave first, the prince swept back into the room. As Aladdin closed his current heavy volume shut in a cloud of off-colour dust, it was taken from him. As if wanting to busy and distract himself, Alibaba stacked the books up and removed from that thin table. They smudged over his priceless garments, as if he had forgotten such a thing already. Crossing back, and away from his interrogator, he was replacing the books on a shelf they shouldn't be on.

"You could have said earlier..." Alibaba muttered to him, rubbing at his eyes as he took to clearing the adjacent shelf of its concepts concerning rukh.

"I was going to. But instead I wanted to ask why you didn't kiss me," he commented, and watched the prince drop the heavy stack of books in front of him with a withered look. "I'm just teasing; I'll stop talking about it now. And thank you..." he finished brightly, lightly picking up the book at the top of the pile and delicately flicking through it with interest.

"...It's nothing, really. Have you found anything?" he asked, as if keen to change the subject.

"Hm... no. But I didn't think I would," the Magi replied. "It really seems no one's ever written about black rukh. There's not much on the white ones either though. I know the Magi from Reim wrote a fair bit about them, but she doesn't really publish herself outside of her empire."

"...That's a bit troublesome."

"Yes, it's very troublesome," he agreed cheerfully. It was as he thought. He had studied in both Magnostadt and Kou with his brother, and usually under some of the most prestigious magicians in the world. Even if it seemed an arrogant assumption, he thought if he hadn't read about them yet he wouldn't at all. Even so, it was worth it to him to keep going. "I guess I could go and see if there's anything new in Magnostadt after this time, or if someone's researching about them at the university. It will just take months to get there, and I'm meant to be learning here."

He was given a strange look. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"Of course I am, why wouldn't I be? I liked it there a lot."

"...Your empire never told you of the weird things going on there?" Alibaba enquired, and he shook his head. Really, Aladdin had nothing of fond memories of the city of magicians, and the university there. "Well, my father before he...passed on often wrote to them, and never received anything back."

"They don't like contacting goi...non magicians," he corrected himself quickly.

"Maybe so, but he mentioned he only heard of bad things happening since their magicians took over the city those years ago."

"It's not that bad," Aladdin insisted. "Even if it is, it's all the more reason to go there, right?"

"...Weren't you listening to a word I was just saying?!"

"Of course I was. How rude do you think I am?" Aladdin looked up from the small book he had been skimming over, before casing it aside. "You know though, this is a library and it's early in the morning. You should be a bit quieter, even if you get angry easy."

"I'm not angry," he insisted, but lowered his voice nonetheless. Even if they were quite alone there. "But...hey, you named me a king, right? The only king you named?" Aladdin nodded, discarding that book and picking up another. Alibaba's eyes widened a little, possibly at either his speed at reading or the fact he was still being somewhat attentive. "That means you're my Magi. And you're not going to a dangerous place like that."

"...I'm pretty sure that's not how it works," Aladdin informed him. ""If I can learn about that rukh in you, and..." his fingers clenched softly over the lock of hair in his pocket thoughtfully, but he ignored the look given him. "Look, it's not like you'd need to protect me, even if you could enter their country. And if anything, I'd be the one looking out for you."

"H-huh?! How did you work out that?!" Alibaba exclaimed, as if the Magi had just said something deeply offensive.

Aladdin just smiled at him, and picked again at the piles of books dumped haphazardly in front of him. They sat there, time gradually passing until Alibaba stood. Wioth an apologetic smile and stretch, he headed to the door. "Well erm...if you don't mind I have my training session in three hours. So –"

"Alibaba-kun, you could have left hours ago. I don't mind," he threw the scandalised looking man a smile as he reached the doorway and froze. "But it was nice talking to you, anyway."

Muttering something incomprehensible, perhaps asking why the Magi wasn't following him, Alibaba closed the door with a light snap. Aladdin listened to the light thud of wooden sandals descending so many steps before standing. Firstly he took to taking the books Alibaba had placed back from the shelves, and placed them back when they should be.

Then, he curled back in the window, overlooking the gardens. He felt the brisk air awaken him, and settled where he was. Either way, it had certainly been a long enough time since he had been motivated to being so diligent in researching anything.

Long after midnight, a long figure sat and gazed over the murky docks of Kou. Judal sat, arms wrapped around his knees, on a low roof overhead. Slowly, so slowly, it seemed the shadows over the palace were growing, and not merely the literal ones. Over the passing months, he had taken to sitting there. Since his new studies, he found himself unable to sleep. For hours he sat there, unmoving, and even when insomnia bruised under his eyes he was offered little reprieve.

Since that fateful day when Gyokuen had allowed the men of Al-Thamen to take him away, things had been that way. Judal found himself craving solitude in the moments where he wasn't brandishing his power. As the palace grew darker, to the point it was positively drowning in the darkened mist the black rukh left, things had only worsened.

He wasn't even sure, really, why he sat there. Looking over the docks, he knew he would have been awaiting his brother's return. But that wouldn't be for over half a year and he wasn't waiting. Right then, he didn't really fathom if he cared that much. He just needed something familiar, no...controllable. As the world blacked and grew confusing, he felt he needed something he understand. As his world changed and grew steadily colder and his emotions seemed to sink into each other and grow fainter, he wanted something he understood.

The rukh of the palace, and his own, continued to flutter around him like minuscule bright doves and sullen ravens. Like tiny birds they hovered, attracted by him, and he fixed them in his keen gaze. Somehow their song seemed quieter than it used to be, somewhat muted and the white ones seemed more sparse. Curiously he reached out, watching one of the white ones obey his command and land on his palm. He drew out his glimmering sceptre, and drew his thumbnail over it gently.

Since he had begun his studies under Ithnan, he had noticed something; the black rukh didn't sing. He had wondered, many times, if somehow when their fate was turned against them if somehow it rendered them mute. He didn't know, and the magician had never told him if that was true or not. Perhaps that what it meant; that to gain power through cursing fate, something was removed? Those silent rukh certainly brimmed with power, and Gyokuen continued to softly assure him all of this was alright.

He looked over that tiny, shimmering prize curiously. It hummed so gently against his warm skin, its song all but welcoming the Magi and his encroaching darkness. As it fluttered there, he gave it one final look before carefully circling his fingers round it. He readied his sceptre, and his ruby eyes closed. And then he pondered upon all he had been taught about magic until that point in time.

Steadily, as Judal envisaged his world drowning in black fire and the freezing depths of the deepest ocean, that rukh grew quieter as his magic found it. That showed to him that he finally had gotten the hang of what his teacher had wanted to show him.

Excited, he uncurled his fist. Right there, crumpled upon his pale he saw that speck of light had become a shimmering black. He grinned, almost laughed, triumphantly at his accomplishment. Then softly he tilted his hand, allowing that small thing to take back to the non-existent breeze. It flew off to join the ever increasing volume of black rukh within his home, and faded back into the night.

Steadily after all, the influence of Al-Thamen was spreading. Slowly that mist weaved over his home and the result of such a thing made the place feel darker. Judal didn't really think much of it, even if some of hjis studying had been unpleasant and sometimes downright painful. As it was, Gyokuen had smiled and told him it was alright. And he had not questioned that. he certainly felt stronger; the power crackling like a chill of lightening under his skin certainly indicated that much.

"It's time, Magi..."

Eyes flicked down, to see the man standing below. Ithnan leant on his staff, peering upwards to his young student. Judal had only ever received his lessons at night, which he still felt was creepy and weird. Even so, that man preferred it. And always knew where to find him.

Energetically, and forgetting his fatigue, Judal dropped down softly to the wet grass beneath him. of course he obeyed, as power was power even if it still unnerved him. Right now he was studying such things of that strange magic which transcended all he had ever known before. The kind of thing he had only heard from hushed whispers after following these weirdoes around for so long.

Al-Thamen still told Judal little of their aims, however. Ithnan especially, who leant up from his staff to turn and lead Judal away, was guilty of that. He would speak strangely, and as such confused him further. In their lessons, Ithnan spoke only of certain things. Ominous mentionings that Judal himself would soon be the heart of their empire, and something akin to a dark anchor to pull in the rest of the world to him. That in aiding them in their battle to free the world of fate's tyranny, he would free everyone from it.

Mainly, it was strange things like that. All Judal knew was in his opinion it amounted to this; the man spoke far, far too much.

Silently he followed Ithnan. Far from leading him to his library, or room, he was leading him down. To below the labyrinth structures of the stone catacombs below the palace, in fact. The moment Judal's bare feet left the comfort of the grounds and sank to the cold stone steps, he froze. Those esoteric chambers which housed the dead were of no interest to him; why would they be. He shivered as they descended, and as the chill rippled through his thin clothing. Hugging his arms around his body, he quickened after Ithnan's long and quick strides.

"...why are you taking me to such a weird place?" Judal muttered. Ithnan didn't reply, and instead sharply took the first right when they reached the bottom and took a flaming torch in hand. The Magi drew into the chiselled chamber and felt the door creak shut behind him on its rusted hinges.

He paused at what he saw.

Laid out before him, on a small and mossy altar, was laid out a suit of armour. Not a shining and impressive one, either. Rather it was a collection of metallic fragments of steely grey, long since shattered and their shine long gone. Far from being functional, it seemed to be only a film of dark, cloud-like fog which seemed to hold them together. "Ah...sensei, he doesn't look so good you know..."

Ithnan's cold laugh shivered out, chilling Judal in the already unsettling place. "Trust you to see him for what he is; a person rather than an object..."

"...It's it obvious?" Everything about that armour felt, to Judal, to be alive. Or at least, it had used to be. Why else would it be in a tomb, anyway? Those fragments were laid out, and seemed to anticipate something – in fact, anything. Objects never really had the conscious want to be fixed, did they?

That mist shimmered, as if eerily it was taking a breath. Eyes widening, Judal backed up against the rotted door. He recognised it as being the vestige of rukh, the black look of what used to be a man which clung to it. As if instead of leaving its form and rejoining the world, it clung to the armour it wore in life.

Ithnan considered Judal silently for a moment, and then looked back at the altar and it's laid out remnants. As if to demonstrate something, he reached out so the sleeve of his robes drew through that mist. It parted, as if they were a drying and pitiful ocean of black floating on nothing. As he pulled up his hand, they fell and reattached themselves to that armour. Certainly, they were bound to it. And possibly for a long time at that, from the feel of them.

"It's impressive you can see that much, though," Ithnan told him. "I might as well introduce you, this is Isaac."

Judal somehow felt that a greeting would be wasted in this case. He leaned back against the wall; arms folded, and stared over at his teacher. "So what exactly is it...he?"

"I guess some context isn't a bad thing. Isaac was the protector of a girl called Durya – the youngest princess of the Kingdom of Mustashim. Well, before the revolt, anyway. Have you heard of it?"

"You know I have," Judal replied in a bored voice, not seeing how this would make him stronger. "That's what Magnostadt used to be called and I used to study there. Before you guys made me and my brother return here."

"Of course, Magi. Durya placed Isaac – and herself – in the Organisation's care."

"...The joke's on her, then." Judal doubted as if, like him, they'd given the princess a choice.

He however had never seen that place. Sinbad had, and it was one of Judal's favourite memories as a child; demanding that extraordinary person tell him all about it. So many times had he been told of Mustashim before it had fallen in a bloody revolt. He had heard so much about its fields of wild flowers and clear streams he felt he had been there. He had wanted so much to see it.

Yet, that was before his time. The kingdom had fallen, and the victorious magicians had formed Magnostadt on its remains. And he and his brother had been children still at that time. When they had been sent there to study, he had been excited. He thought he'd get to see the city allegedly caught in a perpetual spring for himself. Instead, he remembered tall walls, imposing libraries and stuffy old magicians and narrow streets. He had been so disappointed, but then the new leader wished to forget there was ever such a place as Mustashim, however beautiful it had been.

"We were there when Mustashim fell," Ithnan informed him. "Just as we were there when any nation fell, and we always will be. We sought out that child princess and her knight who had lost his life protecting her own..." he indicated the decrepit armour thoughtfully. "We asked her to curse her fate, and when she came of age she would claim a dungeon for us. And, of course, she needs her loyal knight for that..."

Judal nodded, and drew up from the wall as he could see where this was going now. "So...what? We can bring him back to life or something like that?"

"That might be putting it generously. She just said she wanted him back. I guess it doesn't matter if he's little more than dust..." Ithnan pondered. "Magi, I want to see just how well you're taking to those black rukh of yours. Call upon those of this man. Command them back into this armour, and to obey us."

"Well, aren't rukh meant to leave someone when they die? Not cling on like this?" he asked curiously. "I was always told that. That when someone dies, their rukh just float around and become part of the world."

"Usually, but cursing fate changes that. Do you see any white rukh to pour back into the world?" Judal shook his head. "That's part of what depravity is. When all your rukh are stained black, you'll understand more than you do."

Judal nodded, but he couldn't really see such a thing as ever making sense. He took a deep breath however, and allowed himself to focus on whatever there was left of Isaac, raising his sceptre as he did. In theory, black rukh weren't all that different. Compared to, say, calling the rukh floating over the squalling winds or trapped in the churning tides to his whim, it felt similar enough. This instead focused on looking inside the darkness and despair within a living creature, and using that against them.

He didn't mind that, as it served his want for getting stronger. He focused on those rukh, even if they seemed too fragile now to even cling to either world or form. He thought, perhaps, it was that curse which eroded them. He shivered, and gave the silent command for them to hold onto that armour more tightly. They didn't hear him, he guessed, and tried harder. Far from acquiescing however, Judal felt his mind cloud over. He felt almost as though his knees were giving out, and became light headed as he fell forward...

"Of course, you're not there yet," Ithnan was informing him quietly.

On opening his eyes, Judal felt light headed. He looked up, feeling that magician was close having caught him before he fell. Those lifeless dark eyes glanced back into his own of lively ruby for a long moment. "I told you, Judal; this would be difficult with so many white rukh inside you. But I wanted to test you..."

From his tone, it seemed Ithnan knew he wouldn't be successful. Judal gritted his teeth, pushing that man's arms from around him and backed away. "...I told you to stop touching me. It's so creepy..."

"I just caught you so you wouldn't fall, Magi."

"...Whatever. Just tell me how to be strong. That's all you need to do..." he snapped angrily back at him.

Ithnan nodded, and raised that crooked staff. As if to show how it should be done, the magician allowed that thin mist to become enriched and it thickened to an oily texture. It drew out in chain like ribbons, winding itself around the armour. The surface of the metal steadily drew less tarnished, almost shining as the rukh binding it were returned. As if the puppet was back attached to his strings, a metal gauntlet shifted in a groan of metal. And it seemed Isaac was breathed back into life once more.

Judal's eyes widened. He tried to get a better look, but Ithnan already was pushing him from the chamber. The door was shut quickly behind them and Judal glared. "What?! That was amazing! Let me see it!"

"Would you want someone staring at you once you'd just woken up?"

"...Like I care," he replied. As usually people knew better than to stare at him for long.

Ithnan pressed Judal to ascend the steps back to the palace, as apparently that lesson was over. the Magi rubbed at his eyes, thankfully feeling more tired than usual."

"So..." Judal stared, as the magician remained silent as he followed. A thought came to him, and his figures gripped at his sceptre. "Is that the same magic to bind my djinn?"

"Similar," Ithnan said. "Both involve collecting black rukh into an object. In your djinn's case, Kassim was a man who pledged himself to us by throwing himself on a black weapon I gave him. And –"

"Eh?" Judal paused. "How stupid would you have to be to do that? I wouldn't..."

"We chose several, but only he survived the process, and you became his master."

"It's about time I was given something useful..." Judal agreed as he made his way back to his room.

"The first of many useful things," Ithnan followed him through the chilling night and gaining fog. "Once all your rukh are black, you'll fully have cursed your fate and will truly be our Magi."

"It's fine. I just want to be stronger than –"

"Your brother?" the magician asked, and Judal span round glaring. Ithnan was close, closer than he'd have expected. He felt fingers pass through that soft, thin streak of azure blue that now ran the full length of his hair. He gave the man a look of warning, which he refused. "Are you that annoyed Gyokuen said he was more powerful?"

"Like he is anymore...I'll show that witch."

"Is that so? You should be more polite to her. She's not as entertained by you." He told him, curling the strands within his fingers thoughtfully before releasing them. "Her interest in Aladdin is nothing to do with his power, at any rate."

"What then?"

A finger slipped under Judal's chin, and Ithnan leaned in to him curiously. He didn't back away, regardless of that familiar desire he had to take the black magician's staff to hit him with it. The man laughed slightly, as if knowing what he wished to do. "You can ask me, you know, Magi. Ask me who the person you call your brother really is..."