It's been a while updating, I know. Some of my stuff got in the way so my apologies there.

Anyway, a big thanks to Perpetual Dreams, stranger-san, Akumarayne and Silver Ecstasy for the reviews and kind words, and all the rest of you following thus far. It's beyond appreciated and I hope it continues to be a fun read.

Enjoy~

Chapter 12

"...Then perhaps you should tell me. What would you have me do with the situation in Balbadd?" finally Sinbad replied finally. Even if he felt he would regret saying that; he was here to speak about Aladdin, after all. And what Alibaba was telling him concerning black rukh. Yet perhaps he had avoided this matter for long enough.

This was troublesome, however. Rashid Saluja, twenty-second king of Balbadd, had lost his life eight years ago now. And his youngest son looked so much like him. Indeed those eyes, like shivering pools of pale gold, were the same. Sinbad couldn't even return the gaze, instead just seeing that old friend of his. It's what made it so difficult, and was why both king and prince wavered from falling back into a weighed and uncomfortable silence.

"Well..." that prince, or perhaps illegitimate and former prince, currently under his protection spoke up tentatively. And then cleared his throat. "...I-I would like your help in retaking it."

"That's...ambitious of you," he replied slowly. And, really, Balbadd was a topic he wished to avoid. After all, his reasons for saving Rashid's beloved and youngest child weren't so much to do with seeking out a future ally. He even bristled when Jafar indicated the prince could be used in such a way. The storm continued to flash brightly outside of Aladdin's cluttered, yet tidy and perfectly ordered room as he leaned back in his seat. "What brought this on, then?"

"I've been thinking about it a lot. I spoke to Hakuryuu, and he told me you advised him to fight back against Kou someday. It's why he's been training here and..." he stopped, and Sinbad just looked at him blankly. There was no way he was admitting to telling Hakuryuu something like that. "Hm? You...did tell him to fight back against them, didn't you?"

"...I did? I guess we talked a lot about that. I don't remember saying something like that, though," he lied quickly. He leaned back against the carpeted wall, suddenly appreciative of his sharp chill seeping over his heated skin as he rubbed at the back of his tanned neck and forced an uneasy laugh. "Well, I guess it doesn't matter if that's how he took my advice if he's doing so well. Still...he'll have his work cut out for him," he smiled. "It does sound like the sort of thing your father would have told me, you know."

"...More than likely that's where you heard it from," ...indeed it was. "...It's when everything went wrong, though, when he...when we lost him. Since my brother took over, nothing has been the same," Sinbad hung his head. He doubted Alibaba really knew what had happened that day, but then neither did the king himself. But he was right, that day eight years ago marked the beginning of a decline if the once prosperous country. He...really didn't want to think about this. "I want to do the same, though. What Hakuryuu did – I want to become strong, strong enough to take a dungeon as well."

"...I see."

"...You don't need to sound too convinced," a pale eye was arched accusingly from the far side of the room. "You were off beating dungeons when you were younger than both of us!"

"Yeah – like you two I also lost my parents at a young age. I guess that's why your father helped me as much as he did," Sinbad replied quietly. "Still – to be honest you shouldn't compare yourself too much to me. Or even Hakuryuu; for one thing, he's been here since he was very young. He told you he was exiled, right? And since then he's worked hard, harder than me. So much he's kind of terrifying with it," Alibaba nodded at that. "Sharr has told me he has a lot of potential."

"And what about me?" he asked hopefully.

The king paused. And tried to sound encouraging. "Something of a late bloomer?"

"...I am not a late bloomer," Alibaba muttered a little angrily.

Sinbad smiled at that. For a moment, he was simply content to sit there. As he watched the rain heavily, he just tried not to think for now. Yet as he watched those needle-sharp droplets stab down upon the vivid blushing of rose beds below his thoughts returned to Rashid. He tried not to think how much he had changed, or to entertain the idea Rashid would disapprove of him now. Especially when he was no longer as idealistic and naive as he had been at twenty years old. Right now, he felt he should be encouraging the prince. That Sinbad should offer his help, tell Alibaba to trust himself and everything would work out. Yet he just shouldn't say it would all be alright.

Perhaps he had just grown fearful. He was so unwilling to act yet, especially if helping Balbadd meant conflict with Kouen. All too well he knew that Sindria, his kingdom he had taken years to build, could easily be torn down by mere months at war with Kou. Simply he had to be cautious. Even so, he knew if Alibaba did return to Balbadd Abhmad would want him dead, and he rationalised Rashid would grimly accept that part of his argument. As well as such dangers as if Aladdin's dreams were actually visions after all. If Gyokuen herself was indeed a Magi as those dreams suggested that...actually made very little sense, but gave him even more to be concerned over.

Risking his relations with Kou to save Alibaba had been one thing, but he didn't wish to be involved much more with the situation. As it was, his reasons for helping him were more to do with who Alibaba's father was then ever thinking the overly ambitious prince and his coup had ever stood a chance. So, he would have to be charming enough to talk him out of it. "...You should know, then, that Ren Kouen has done a lot to establish himself and the Kou Empire in Balbadd by now. Since then he's been acting as its governor given he's a better leader than Abhmad is. And it'll still be dangerous for you to go back. They might kill-"

"...I know that already," Alibaba's knuckles turned white from being clenched in his lap in frustration. "But Hakuryuu said you and his cousin were good friends. If my brother can't do this – I will. So...can't you just ask Kouen to side with me? As a favour to you?"

"Ah...I wish. It would be great if things were that simple," he agreed. He thoughtfully continued to turn a glass – the very same one he had used to eavesdrop on the prince and Aladdin earlier with – between his fingers to admire how the dim light of the room played across its surface. "But do you really think so? That the Flame Emperor or whatever he calls himself will help me, all because I smiled and asked nicely? Abhmad's the king there and a convenient puppet for Kouen. Between them, they're more likely to claim you're an illegitimate heir who has no claim on his own country. Or possibly you're even his brother or a prince anymore, after what you did."

Those light eyes darkened considerably. "Even so, it was me the people were supporting. I was a bad leader back then, I accept that. But I had help and..." he swallowed. "W-well...they would die for me, they said they would. N-not that I'd want them to, I told them not to, but they would anyway. Do you think I could forget that? Could you? I can't just sit here and do nothing to fight back."

"I know you can't, I respect that," he sighed. "But this isn't the way of doing things. The truth is I spy on Kouen far too much for him to ever really trust me. And he's even worse."

"...That's hard to imagine someone's as bad as you with that. You were watching something as silly as me bringing Aladdin flowers," Alibaba was nodding to the glass the king was continuing to turn between his fingers. Which was promptly pocketed. "I'm serious about this. At least could you tell Sharrkan to take me seriously? I need to get stronger."

"It doesn't work like that. I trust Sharr to make up his own mind over such things. Just prove yourself, Alibaba. Remember you've already had a lot of people relying on you before, and from the sounds of it you didn't think you did all you could. If you're serious about this, don't be rash. You have a responsibility to them, after all. But...this isn't what I came here to speak to you about," he caught Alibaba's eye. "You've been talking to Aladdin a lot, haven't you? About black rukh."

"Ah...yes. Well, he started it. He told me at the festival that the rukh of those who...were lost in Balbadd followed me here. And a friend's darkened ones were trapped within me. He said he would help me get rid of them.

He sighed, and had feared as much. "I guess it was inevitable, given how crazy things got in Balbadd on that day. Just like back then..."

"Back... when, exactly?"

Sinbad shook his head. "I'd like you to not talk about them again to him. As you've seen, he's not been too well lately. I don't want to think it's because he's pushing himself too hard and –"

" – I know. And it's my fault," the prince interrupted. "He only studied so much as he was worried about me. But..." he stood, and crossed the room to Sinbad hurriedly. "I-I have to ask; this curse – it won't kill me, will it. Aladdin said having someone else's rukh in me was bad."

"Well, yes it is," he agreed as he looked up. "But I don't think you can really call it a curse, anyway. It's something that only gets dangerous once dark magic is involved. You're perfectly safe – well, unless someone decides they dislike you enough to hurt you."

"...That's not reassuring at all," he glared. Sinbad stood, smoothing his robes and stretched. "I'm lucky to talk to you about it though so – thank you. You know much more than Aladdin has, I guess as you've been through it. And you're so strong now, so I guess I shouldn't be worried," he stopped abruptly, and threw Alibaba an accusing look. "I...erm...you did have a similar experience, right? Why else would you talk like you have and tell me I'd be fine?"

He gave a hollow laugh as he moved to the door. And proceeded to fumble with opening it; his only thoughts being to leave. Now. "Am I that easy for you to read?"

"N-No! Of course not. I..."

He had already stopped listening. As right then, the thoughts flooded in and darkened his mind. He found himself remembering what little he knew of that day. That one excruciating time eight years ago, when that cherished friend and mentor of his had been lost. It was also the day Sinbad ceased to be so naive and no longer believed he could change the world whilst not losing anything. As it was the very same day when he had almost fallen to darkness and Rashid had been murdered.

There was only one difference between his and Alibaba's experiences with such a thing. Instead of watching a friend losing themselves to the hollow promises of the black rukh and slowly fade away, it had been Sinbad adhering to their torment and forever partially anchoring himself in their shadows. He just remembered so little of that day. Just that that darkness had silently promised him the power to bring Rashid back and to avenge his enemy, and he had almost accepted the offer. Part of him regretted it, as even after eight years he had no idea who had attacked them. Knowing what little he did, and seeing Balbadd decline under the child king to follow Rashid, had made Sinbad into the man he was. Someone Jafar would berate as being underhanded and sly. All the while, he would simply insist he was resolved to protect his country, his family, at any cost.

"...I'm sorry," Alibaba said quietly as he followed him down the long hallway towards the baths. As Sinbad had decided to check on Aladdin there. "I thought you might want to talk about it. I don't want to impose myself but –"

"Then don't," he couldn't look back, not to those eyes looking so much like Rashid's. Much like, even if he should, he couldn't even entertain telling Alibaba about what had happened to his father.

"A-Alright. But I just...I think it means something," he didn't know when to stop..."If you can go through that and come back from it, perhaps Kassim can."

"...Kassim?"

Somewhere, he had heard that name, hadn't he?

Instead of asking about it, he turned the corner. The first thing that struck him was how the deep blue, tiled walls of the baths were thick and dripping with condensation. In fact the heat was so heavy and overbearing it made Sinbad of all people feel light headed, and within moments his thin robes were clinging damply to him. His amber eyes snapped to the steaming pool of delicately toned green water at the centre of the room. And the figure clutching shakily to its far side.

He didn't hesitate. He hurried over the soaking lapis floor to reach the Magi's side. Sinbad knelt down, a large hand running its fingers through the stream of azure hair fanned out behind Aladdin. Slowly those eyes opened, Sinbad catching him as the young man stumbled slightly in the sweltering water before meeting his eyes. He was shivering, his face pale as it usually was after one of those dreams...visions...whatever they were. "...A little hot for one of your baths, isn't it? That's more Judal's thing."

"Mm...I think it's time to get out," Aladdin was agreeing vaguely with him. he gladly accepted Sinbad's shawl as it was handed to him, and shakily wrapped it round his clammy shoulders. "Did I have a strange dream again, oji-san?"

"That's something I should be asking you," he tried to give him a comforting smile. "Do you remember it?"

"No...erm, wait - yes. I remember. Onii-san, onii-san was..."

"He was what?" Sinbad demanded. Yet those wide eyes had clouded over, and closed again. He continued to run his fingers through the hair plastered to the Magi's neck before calling out behind him. "Alibaba! Can you come help him?"

It seemed Alibaba had not actually followed him into the stuffy baths. Instead the prince was hovering at the entrance, and at a glance Sinbad noticed how all colour was drained from his face. And he was staring at Aladdin's thin, trembling body as though it was the most terrifying thing he had ever seen. "A-Ah! Can you get him dressed first?!"

"Yes, I was going to get his clothes," he explained. "So if you can just hold him up a moment I –"Alibaba looked mortified at that. "Look, it's not like it's anything you haven't seen before. Can you get over here?"

Finally Alibaba surrendered, and blushing made his way silently across the room. Sinbad stood, and easily located the neat bundle of blue and white silk lying close by. Along with the small, golden flute Aladdin was somewhat obsessive with always keeping close by. He smiled at that, and as he went to pick up the pile of clothes he felt his fingers pass over something cold. Not a welcome sensation however, despite the heat of the room. Instead it was an uncomfortable sensation he knew he had suffered before.

Puzzled he reached into a pocket, drawing out a long coil of an ebony braid as he did. His thumb slowly passed over the plaited and shimmering strands of Judal's hair, something he understood was given as the parting gift from one twin to the other. Within moments a pained and sinking feeling gave rise as he watched black rukh slowly flood out into the room. As they did, they scattered soundlessly into the swirls of white mist like so many tiny bruises before seemingly dissolving into it.

"...Just my luck. The moment I turn my back..." Sinbad muttered under his breath. Quickly, he hid the braid within his robes before turning back to Alibaba's calling of his name.

"That must have been so painful to hear," Ithnan acknowledged quietly. "After all, its one thing for you to offer the power to that king you wanted, only for him to refuse you. But losing Aladdin is so much worse. You trusted him, and he lied about what he was – about everything. You feel so alone, knowing you were never brothers, not really. That loneliness is crushing you, and you've never felt so betrayed. Whatever shall you do, Magi?"

"...Shut up."

The magician looked up to the figure climbing onto the hotel balcony railings beside him. Emotion sought to brand Judal's eyes into a vivid crimson shade as tears continued to fall from them freely. Silently he flexed his bare toes and ignored his teacher's eyes looking up at him, wide in anticipation. And sceptre in hand, he was just trying to forget all those terrible things Ithnan had just told him. But then, he had to be told all that. And to know, exactly, who Aladdin was.

Now he just wanted to forget.

Desperately he tried to keep his balance as his thick, dark robes ripped about him in the harsh cold of a desert-side morning in Qishan. Gritting his teeth, every instinct within Judal had just resolved to one simple thing – proving his power. And relying in that one thing which he still trusted in, which was his magic. He couldn't even care less if he was playing into Ithnan's hands with this. He just wished to call upon every fibre of that darkly glowing energy within him. And expel that anger down onto the pitiful country and its people below.

And it happened, and in such a brightly shining place like this. The peace of the morning was shattered as Kassim rose above it like a darkened canopy. A stream of dark, storming clouds eclipsed the clear skies as that fiend solidified into a familiar and demonic form. The seething monstrosity was already snarling and baring its yellowed fangs under the collecting weight of violet lightening and crashing magic. Right then, and fleetingly, Judal understood its pain. Even if he would never admit it.

Right then, he was too fixated on Kassim's shadow-ridden flight to notice all that anguish being sapped from him. Instead, he focused on the fact the black djinn was able to appear like this due to his power. And with that realisation, a wide and extremely cruel grin slowly etched across Judal's face like a fading scar. He stared at the magical energy spilling from Kassim like poison from an open wound, forever darkening those skies from that day forth.

"...Now that is a sight," Ithnan commented as the two looked on. Kassim's blood-rimmed and tormented eyes were fixated on the crowds it had attracted below. The people that looked truly terrified, even if that demon-like creature was doing little more than roar and lament of its own anguish. In turn, Judal's eyes were finally keen enough to see the ribbon-like and black streams pouring off those people. As their fear and panic were peeled off to feed the black rukh, which in turn was melted into misted turmoil for Kassim itself to gorge upon. "They're frozen in fear, so sure that monster is going to devour them all. And their children too."

"...Perhaps it should," the Magi quietly replied. Especially as its audience remained motionless and fixing its collective faze upon the djinn beating its gigantic and leathery wings. They reminded him of ants, so many ants gathered and awaiting a boot to end their miserable lives. Now he thought of it...how weak some people really were. How pathetic.

Ithnan's flat, humourless laugh rang in his ears. "You know, a master and his djinn share their minds and thoughts. This is you, really. You want to make all those poor, innocent people pay for all the painful things I just told you."

"...Ha? Well, in that case it can scream all it wants. If it means I don't need to think about that."

"Indeed. I told you Kassim would be a good servant; it's feeding off and expelling all your pain for you," Judal wrinkled his nose in disgust at those words. "Even so, that is such a miserable beast. It used to be a man..." Ithnan told him. "But I think young Lord Jamil might be a little upset if you punish them. I hear he hates it if people hurt his subjects before he can. And how will we explain that sky to him?"

"...Like I care," Judal's eyes wandered over that sky, now a bruised marring blacker than night. He reached up, his fingertips running over the now dried tears staining his cheeks.

"I didn't ask you to. I was just explaining how it worked," his teacher informed him coldly. Even so, he had the impression he was pleased his student was reaching his potential. Ithnan's rukh, which depressed Judal to watch, usually idled around his ankles yet at that moment seemed ever so slightly elevated off the ground. Yet those eyes, staring at him like orbs of flecked and dried blood looked as lifeless and unnerving as ever. But still, how could he not be impressed? After the Magi had just summoned his djinn in a place like this. And Qishan was still so bright and shining compared to the palace in Kou, which was perpetually veiled in a heavy veil of misted fog which clung to it so stoically.

Yet within moments he was bored of his sudden bout of anger. The shadowy magic collected intensely at the tip of his sceptre as finally he called Kassim back. As he did, his eyes lidded and he felt himself stumble. Fatigue prickled lazily over his senses as a sharp reminder that he still was not fully accustomed to borrowing power from the black rukh. Passing a hand over his hot, tired eyes Judal could only guess how he looked. Given how little he might look as bad as the magicians from Al-Thamen now. And then he berated himself from thinking he was like such strange people to start with.

Even so, it was one of those strange people who finally caught Judal as he wavered dangerous on the railings. He felt himself being pulled back by Ithnan onto the balcony, and instantly batted him away. The tall, mysterious figure reached forward, and he watched the cold finger of a white glove slip delicately under the line of vivid blue streaked through Judal's fringe. As if curious how that one part of him remained unaffected by the sinking depravity around them. "...Are you upset still about what I told you about Aladdin?"

For a moment he just stared back blankly. "Erm...I think so, yeah. But you're not going to get out of telling me everything else."

"Hm? Oh, I'd not dream of tricking you, really," Ithnan stepped back, even if to Judal he sounded a little mocking. "Where was I? Hm...well, Aladdin was once of Alma-Toran. Like Gyokuen, he was one of three Magi lending their power to Solomon himself."

"...Three?" he asked curiously. "Who was the third?"

A cold curiosity subtlety fogged over Ithnan's eyes. "You know, I don't remember. Perhaps Gyokuen destroyed them so fast I never noticed. You could ask her, if you truly want to know."

"...I'll pass."

"Well..." the magician leaned on his staff thoughtfully. "Gyokuen formed Al-Thamen back there, and I'm also from that world. I think she coveted Solomon's power and rule, and waged war on him with the Organisation's help. We won...more or less. Alma-Toran was shattered by that war. It's fragments are the dungeons you've walked within, ruled over by their djinns. They all connect via the necropolis. But my home is long gone."

"...Do you miss it?"

Ithnan shook his head. "Of course not. We suspect that Ugo was told by Solomon to watch over Aladdin, however. It might be how he was reincarnated, born into this world to in turn watch over you. I guess it was his plan to stop us capturing you."

Judal's braceleted forearms hugged around himself, and his long robes, thoughtfully. "That didn't work out too well."

"Of course not. Gyokuen was the most powerful Magi in Alma-Toran, and probably of this world too. Someone almost as intelligent as I am, too. We found you, killed a while clan to do so, and brought you back to raise. But then, Aladdin did wish to protect you, the next Magi being born into this world. Gyokuen thought it would be rude not to grant that wish."

"I guess...so that means they're both fakes, right? I mean, Aladdin can't raise dungeons and he's never named a king. Nor has she."

"I guess that's correct," Ithnan admitted. "But they are what they are, despite that. And what's important is that we have three Magi with you two."

Judal paused, and thought over that. One way or another, he knew that was what mattered. Along with that witch, and his false twin, he had what was needed to make their empire – no, his empire – unstoppable. Rubbing his arms, he re-entered the hotel room to escape the desert-side chill. "So, she made Aladdin forget all about Alma-Toran and that war. What about when he remembers it all when he's off in Sindria?"

"He won't," Ithnan replied flatly and followed him.

"...Why not?"

"Remember – I said that Gyokuen could defeat Solomon. She is more powerful than you could ever comprehend. There's no magic strong enough in your world to break the spell she has on Aladdin. He belongs to her, as do you. You should fear her."

"...It sounds a bit arrogant being so sure of all that," Judal flopped back onto a plain, boring bed which was too hard for his liking. Qishan really wasn't nearly as lavish, colourful or soft as he was used to. And his room was too small, white washed and smelled a little strange. He wanted to leave as soon as he could. He rubbed at the stinging tiredness in his eyes, all the while aware it was unlikely he'd be able to sleep. "But...whatever. when are we going to Balbadd? I want to fight Entei-sama already."

"Soon," clearly Ithnan was bored of being asked about Kouen. "I should see the young lord here. Your outburst would have caught his attention."

Judal turned restlessly to lie on his stomach. He idly kicked his feet against the air, leaning a palm against his cheek as he scrutinised the shrouded magician. "...You used to teach him, right? I don't get that. If you're meant to be so intelligent and amazing why waste your time teaching someone as boring and ordinary as some nobleman's brat?"

"I do as Gyokuen tells me. As should you," Ithnan reminded him. "Come to think of it, I also heard Jamil wishes to take an exhibition to Amon's dungeon. I wonder what sort of man he became. He really was the vilest child I ever met."

"That explains why you like him so much," he yawned widely. "Have fun with that."

"Hm? You don't want to meet him?" Judal shook his head. "A shame – he'd love to meet you. It would be fated. After all, the last thing I told him before leaving ten years ago was he would meet a boy who would guide him to becoming king. He'd be so pleased if that boy lent him power."

"...Trust you to go round saying gross things like that. Stop telling every idiot you meet I want to go make them a king," the Magi made a face. And then sat up urgently as Ithnan crossed the miniscule room to leave. Partially, as even if he didn't know it, Judal didn't wish to be alone right then. "Hey! Erm...do you think he stands a chance?"

"Hm? Ah..." Ithnan paused, leaning in the white doorway. "I have no idea. Either way, Qishan's as good as fallen, so I doubt it matters in the larger scheme of things. It's like be-heading a hydra. When one corrupt, power-hungry tyrant dies there are so many vying for his power."

"...I guess," he replied. And perhaps it didn't matter. It wasn't as if Al-Thamen would allow him to go and choose those he wished, People he actually saw promise and resolve in. People like that...idiotic king who had refused him. Still, the thought dawned on him that more than likely he would be strong enough to destroy Sinbad soon. With the power of both white and black rukh, he might even destroy Al-Thamen. Someday, at least.

Once Ithnan left, Judal let those awful robes slip from his shoulders. He detested wearing them, even though he knew they protected him from the lingering sting of the white rukh. The moment he did, all those dazzling, feathery white lights poured in over his normal clothes and his freezing, feverish skin. That sharp brilliance was already pin-pricking his body with painful welts, yet he was adamant not to abandon them. He even told the white rukh as much.

He closed his eyes, and even as that sharp stabbing became unbearable Judal knew it would be a mistake to stop. After all, he really believed if he could endure this he would be stronger than anyone. Stronger than that false brother, who had lied to him. And more powerful than that king, who he once thought he loved. And soon, he would show both Aladdin and Sinbad just what he was capable of.