Alright, sorry for the slight delay. I'm not doing so good at the regular updates now, am I? Anyway, first off a big thanks to Perpetual Dreams, Akumarayne and MissSexyRain for the reviews and kind words. And everyone else following so far, and bearing with me for the sudden absences. And a special thanks to Silver Ecstasy for checking things over, as editing is not my strong point.

Enjoy!

Chapter 15

"...So you're spying on them, in other words."

Jafar's disembodied voice sharply berated Sinbad, and certainly got his attention. Upon that morning, and following a night he had not slept, the king rubbed his tired eyes and felt his aching body shift forward. He sat in his roomy office, and looked up from the many papers scattered across his desk to the culprit of his scolding. And glanced to that device, that small and glittering contraption Jafar was using to speak to him. The Eye of Rukh elevated itself slightly, as if to emphasis his subordinate's irritation.

Really, he was surprised such a thing even worked. He had long ago requested Yamaraiha to enable all his generals to carry such things, but never would Sinbad have thought it would work so far away. Yet now Jafar's voice was carried from him so many miles away as he had attempted – and apparently succeeded – in getting it to work.

"Yes," his somewhat proud answer came, along with a mischievous grin spread over his features as he leaned forward. Long fingers clasped firmly under his chin as with a slight click that glittering orb whirred into action and elevated itself so it was eye-level. He glanced away, to the black, needle-sharp scimitar laid across the various papers lying discarded. So recently, and after so many hours of tireless work, it seemed a second of those weapons had been completed. And this one was his. Even now, and after the result of a certain female magician's magic, darkness still filmed over its elegant surface. After all, and despite her work, such a thing could still be considered dangerous. As even now, they didn't know everything about those weapons.

"...It's nothing to be proud of, Sin," that jewelled structure boomed back at him. Perhaps it wasn't, but all the same Sinbad was keen to distract that line of conversion from Aladdin and Alibaba; and whether or not he had been using one of those beautiful, colourful birds circling his kingdom to watch them. Right now – he had an opportunity to ask of the events occurring in Balbadd. Right now, it seemed he may well just have eyes and ears wherever he wished, and Sinbad smiled as his gaze flicked back to that Eye. Certainly, he mused, magic was such a potent and amazing thing. And such was even more the case for those who wielded it.

"Isn't it? Watching those two was very interesting," it was then the powerful man paused somewhat awkwardly. That certainly hadn't sounded as he intended it, and frowned. "...You know what I mean. I didn't watch anything I shouldn't have," he informed that delicate communication device as Jafar fell to an awkward silence, "...come on, what do you take me for?"

"...Is that a trick question?" came an eventual reply. As if Jafar was, in fact, busy at that moment of time where Sinbad insisted speaking to him. "You shouldn't be spying on young men almost half your age, it's indecent even if nothing happened," ...And, again, he bristled slightly. "Honestly, we all hoped you'd have known better by now."

By "we", he imagined the pale man meant that collectively all his generals had so little faith in him, and sniffed affectedly. "And what if I don't know better?"

If anything, until last night Sinbad genuinely felt he had good reason to be cautious and watch the two. He wasn't sure how well Alibaba would adhere to his warning, and telling Aladdin too much about black rukh and things which might upset him. However he might not have too much to worry about, especially if they had...that manner of interest in each other. If they were so close, and if Sinbad had Alibaba's ally, the guilty and vindictive part of his mind informed him that he might even acquire a Magi that way. Possibly both of the brothers, even if he worried for Judal and if he'd be able to help him. He tried not to think of that shimmering braid he had stolen, spirited away to his rooms, and whatever ordeal Aladdin's brother was enduring to be subjected to such darkness...

"Sometimes, yes. I doubt you do know better."

Jafar's usual prompt responses seemed somewhat prolonged to him. They allowed Sinbad so much time to brood over such things, which couldn't be good given how exhausted he felt after working – and spying – throughout the night. He prodded a forefinger at the Eye, and watched its surface ripple in defiance. As if such a thing was made from cool and ever-churning water. No view of Balbadd was even offered to him. "Say, Jafar – what are you doing? I can't see anything like I should," he paused. "You didn't drop this at some point, did you?"

"No, Sin – I haven't dropped it," he paused, before sighing as if Sinbad wasn't going to stop asking. "It's dark as it's in my pocket, all right?"

"...You have pockets?" a different sort of interest took him. He could pick up the sounds of light cursing, of fleeted footsteps as though Jafar was running from someone. "Then you can take me out then, let me see what you're doing," he tested, suddenly curious if Jafar was in trouble and forced an easy laugh. "Come on then, show me Sram. Show me Kouen," he demanded softly. And sure enough was met with another harassed exhalation of air. "Something's going on – you're running."

"...Yes."

"Away from someone?" Sinbad peered forward into darkness. "Someone troubling, as it's not like you to be all out of breath. It's...actually quite a nice sound, you know."

"Stop kidding around! If you must know, I'm attempting to elude someone," and another, long pause. "Two someone's, in fact."

"Really? Who?" it was problematic that this conversation was intriguing Sinbad so much. "Have you killed anyone?"

"What?! No! Sin, of course not. Why do you always think that?!"

"Past experience," he mused as he continued to poke lightly at the Eye, marvelling at the soft ebbing of its surface shift under his touch like a velvet ocean bathed in midnight.

"I'm – I'm trying to escape Kouen's men," he admitted finally. "Who are actually scarily fast, given their ages."

"You mean Kokuhyou and Seiryuu?" he guessed that long pause meant he did. "They are, yes according to Kouen. Fortunately I've never seen them in action myself, however. But they served his father many years and are both very dedicated, and extremely dangerous. They've so much experience over the years in seeking out assassins and anyone else considered a threat," Still there was silence, as if Jafar was pondering on his current predicament. "So...explain this to me. How is it you have those two old men chasing you? What did you do to Kouen?"

"Stop incriminating me, I didn't do anything," that voice snapped back a little too defensively. "Alright, give me a moment," there came the faint sound of rummaging, as if the lithe man had taken to scale the capital's lofty heights to buy himself time from his pursuers.

"Well?"

Jafar sighed. "Balbadd is in a terrible state, as we surmised earlier. It even looks as if Kouen's being made to stay" ...that surprised him. "I managed to find my way into the palace when I docked, to find out what was going on. I posed as a servant, hoping to not be discovered until I told Abhmad we would aid him," Sinbad felt puzzled over that. Whether or not he approved of such a thing was irrelevant; he'd have wanted to be asked first. "I tried to persuade Kouen to speak with him, so I arranged for them to meet."

Somehow, knowing Kouen, he'd have no interest in helping in such a way. Sinbad remained silent, staring into the darkness which apparently was the contents of his subordinate's pocket. Right as the aforementioned person tried nervously to get his attention. "Sin – are you there? I get worried when you're actually quiet for a change."

"...Certainly I see why he has them after you. Good luck."

"Good luck? Wait, that's all you have to say?! I only did this for you."

"Just...tell me first, before you do something like this," he sighed at the absent figure. "I doubt they'll kill you; capture you perhaps after they've had their fun. Then question you." From a slight sound, as if checking around him, Jafar didn't relish such a thought. "He doesn't trust you, so I doubt you'll be able to do much more. You shouldn't have asked him something like that."

"Perhaps," Jafar agreed somewhat reluctantly. "But they won't be catching me."

More than likely, if two such people wished to catch him they would have already, Sinbad thought. It was likely Kouen had a mild interest in how capable Jafar was; and wanted to keep him occupied and where he couldn't act freely. "Has...Kouen heard anything? If Aladdin's dream was right, and he passed away?"

"He didn't say anything. But then I doubt he would to someone like me," he nodded at that. And Jafar might well still think him foolish, putting stock in such things. Sinbad rubbed at his forehead, and the thin, throbbing pain beginning to warmly etch itself there. "So...what about Judal? Anything about him?"

"Not from what I've seen. But –"

There was a sharp, abrupt knock at the door to his office, and Sinbad felt his concentration wavering. In the disturbance the Eye had already fallen with a light thud, rolling over his papers before he reached out to catch it. Their communication severed, its surface had already faded from its viscous, ever-changed shades of deep sapphire and sea-green to become dull and lustreless. Jafar's voice also grew from barely a whisper, to an echo wafting quietly around the large room, before dying out entirely. Sinbad stashed the small, lightweight object in the drawer of his desk silently.

As he gave a sound to indicate that person to enter, those concerns continued to weigh on him. He never counted Kouen to act rashly, but for all their distrust he was hardly an ally. Perhaps with Jafar's fumbling it would even be a while until he'd find out if Ren Koutoku still lived or not. Or even what Judal was up to.

"Ah, Hakuryuu," he looked over the approaching figure who was advancing to him in calm strides. Weapons in hand, all he could do was wonder if the young prince was about to start his training. And alone, given everything. His eyes fell to that darkened blade; so much like the one lay across his desk, curiously. Sharrkan's prize student... he leaned back to look over him attentively.

Hakuryuu bowed politely. "You wanted to see me?"

"I did, yes. I had Alibaba see to a task for me this morning, so he won't be training with you."

It was almost as if the young man in front of him stifled an irritated sound. As if whatever it was, it was Alibaba's fault. Yet he nodded. "Very well, thank you. First he ups and deserts me yesterday, now this..." he muttered quietly. "Ah – never mind. May I ask what you have him doing?"

Sinbad smiled. In reality, that sparring partner of his had been gone all night. Working as Sinbad had done. He wasn't even sure why he was covering for him. Just that it seemed something he wished to do. "I had him escort Aladdin to empower the barrier protecting the island," he told him. "I have to apologise for that. I don't want my friend's cousin to be angry at me."

"You..." those miss-toned cerulean eyes widened. "N-no, I'm sorry if you think that. It's not you I'm angry at. I...forgive me; that was rude."

"It's fine. It's always weird when people seem so polite to me," Sinbad admitted. Even if he guessed, given whom he was now, he shouldn't think such a thing. "Anyway, I had you see me so I could make it up to you." Hakuryuu remained silent, as if in muted curiosity of what this would lead to. "I think I might offer a good match until he returns."

It didn't seem as if he knew were this was heading. Nevertheless, Sinbad was curious to see if he was as capable as Sharrkan claimed. As he grasped that thin weapon on his desk however, it seemed Hakuryuu understood. "You wish to spar with me? Really – there's no need. I can train by myself."

It had often occurred to him why that polite, quiet prince trained so hard. To Sinbad, it seemed that certainly there was something to do it. Not just to prove himself either; he knew that dark, quiet thirst for vengeance subtly clouding his eyes. Such could prove useful – invaluable. "I insist. Besides, it's my fault for inconveniencing you so much."

"It's just..." Hakuryuu hesitated. "I won't stand a chance. Even against sensei I make mistakes. Someone like you..."

"You're too modest; Sharrkan has nothing but praise for you. And don't worry – I'm nowhere never as good with a sword as he is," Sinbad announced proudly. His seat slid back quietly as he stood, grasping the weapon laid out in front of him. "I won't use my vessels to keep it fair," he watched Hakuryuu's eyes roam thoughtfully over those many, glittering objects he wore. "I'd like to keep them close, though."

"O-Of course," finally Hakuryuu agreed nervously, even if those mysterious eyes shone slightly, as if from a hint of anticipation over this. Sinbad nodded as he swept back across the large, pale-blue hinted office to lead the way to the courtyard. More than anything he was curious how this would play out. "I accept, then. Thank you."

Somehow it seemed a little insulting for Kouen, being escorted back to his rooms by his empire's priests. Yet his curiosity had won out over what had happened back in Kou, and of course any news of his father. Abhmad had all but been shooed away given everything, and as the conversation had interested him he allowed that to happen. Perhaps this was at last his time; some inclination he would gain the power he needed. And when he did, he'd surely allow those men to get what they deserved.

"You look well," Ithnan surmised to Kouen's back as he retreated across the rooms granted to him in the palace. Haughtily he chose to ignore them, until he stood on his balcony and on his own terms. Already morning was breaking; an overpowering sun was rising over a clear and blood-soaked sky, and vapidly bathe the lemon and gold spires of the capital in its wrath. Such seemed fitting enough, given the state Sram found herself in.

Ithnan at least followed him there, as if humouring him. That second, unnamed priest of theirs didn't however. That person seemed content to stare out over the two from under his veil, and seemed to be inching towards Kouen's bed.

It vexed him, but he tried to ignore it. "Things might be more problematic than I expected here," he commented to those intruding upon him before casting his eyes to the letter still clasped in a gloved hand. The one so rudely to not yet be offered to him. "It's nothing I can't handle; but I'd like to leave. At least some time to go back and see my father."

Such was meant as a hint. Instead, Ithnan laughed as he uncurled the page in his hands as if to suggesting reading it to him. Kouen would rather do such a thing alone. His scarlet eyes flicked back to that second magician, who had somehow in that time taken to slumping back lazily. On his bed, no less. That little-

"I doubt mere commoners would pose much threat anyway. Even with those weapons of theirs," the weapons, if Abhmad's ravings were correct, such people had given to them in the first place. "Deal with them as you wish - slaughter them, even." That wasn't what Kouen wished for. Truly he'd crave a war, and this wasn't a war. Weapons or not, the sick and starving were no match to his and Balbadd's thinning militia. As time drew on from the coup, their attentions were little more than striking from the shadows in a cloud of the magical fogs they used. "Remember – your mother doesn't wish you harmed. Gyokuen-sama is so proud of you, doing all this for your empire. And for so little credit."

He nodded slowly, aware of how hopeful Ithnan sounded at the mere suggestion of his untimely demise. As always, he didn't voice what he really thought of such a damnable woman, either. At least, not yet. "I can handle myself. So if you please –"

Ithnan was already re-curling that letter however, keeping a hold of it as if they weren't done yet. He didn't even protest, and gritted his teeth at the sight of the slim priest lying on his bed. Kouen was also ready, all but prepared to run through such an irritating person there and then for his rudeness. The moment he thought that, such a person was already plucking a rosy apple from one of the many baskets littering one of the marble tables close to him. And took to demolishing it, core and all, with the frenzied enthusiasm of a starving person.

"Don't mind him, he's new," Ithnan informed him, to draw his attention back. "You have been in contact with Sinbad, haven't you? One of his subordinates, at least."

From that look in the blood-flecked eyes considering him, felt a hollow sensation of cold electricity run through him. A feeling of foreboding over what would be follow. He didn't wish to be made to deal with them. And certainly he wasn't aware their relations were so bad. Yet.

"Yes," the First Prince finally confirmed. He certainly remembered that frail-looking man doing such a poor job at posing as a servant. Someone who was naive or foolish to think he could escape notice. It seemed a shame however, if they caught someone like that before he did. He arched a thin eyebrow, seemingly indifferent as he looked over the bruised, wounded horizon. "He approached me."

"Why would he do that?"

"Is it that necessary to know?"

Ithnan considered him. "Perhaps not. But Gyokuen-sama has to wonder just how trustworthy her beloved son is."

"We're old friends, so I guess he wanted to help the king here."

"Yet he distrusts you as much as you distrust him."

"And I never said we were close friends," Kouen returned. He wasn't really in the mood for an interrogation, less when he had some inclination were this was going. It seemed worrying if they were spying on him so much. But then, he had it planned out. The moment his father declared him emperor, Kouen would get what he wished. That after he received any power those damned men offer him; he'd have his men slaughter each and every one of them. It took all he could not to skewer the unarmed Ithnan the moment the man uttered a word.

"Yes...I'd imagine that king doesn't matter a lot to you. After all, he's not so close you'd consider him a brother – correct?" the magician observed somewhat coldly. "With your beloved brothers, you're so loyal and protective. Like Koumei, who you always keep at your side." He paused, glancing round pointedly. "But he's not here, of course. Do you think we know nothing? That we aren't watching you closely? Our suspicions concerning your loyalty rose the moment he left. Heading close to the place Sinbad is harbouring your cousin?"

"Cousin?" Kouen feigned innocence, even if he knew who he meant. Hakuryuu, who following the death of his father and elder brothers, had fled Kou and finally found his way to Sindria. And who now might be an ally against such people, and had spent years apparently training for as much.

"Hm..." he was somewhat bad at lying, so he doubted Ithnan believed him. "You really know nothing of this?"

"Do you think Sinbad would inform me of everyone he accepts in his country?"

"For your own relatives, perhaps," the magician replied. "Gyokuen-sama fears you're plotting against us, so we'd like to know where you stand." Their eyes met. "Hakuei, Kouha and Kougyoku have all headed at various times to the islands far to the south. Close to Sindria, in fact. And now, too, that brother you cherish so much. With Koumei going there, she feels you're preparing something. That the moment your father named you emperor, you'd attack us. Is this true?"

This was certainly proving dangerous now. As he disliked lying, as well. It had always been that one consistent disagreement he and Sinbad held with one another. Kouen chose to be blunt, forthcoming; too driven to waste his time elaborating lies and manipulations only to fall prey to them. So...he nodded.

Ithnan smoothed over the letter thoughtfully. "It's a pity. Wasn't it us who helped you? Who recognised you as the One King of this world? We allowed you to attain all the knowledge and power you wished for. Why, it was even our magic used to create those dungeon creatures amassed in your household." He knew as much, and it changed nothing. "How cold of you..."

"As if you wouldn't do the same," perhaps Ithnan would find that amusing. He had no time for such games, yet still had no wish to help or endure them. Still, Ithnan of course remained unarmed whereas Kouen kept his sword at his side. Even if he disliked the sensation both those men had control of the situation instead. But no; he'd not fall prey to them like the king of this doomed country. He'd not be puppet to their whims; and right then, he made the decision neither would leave the room alive.

"It would be troublesome if you turned on us now. You perhaps thought it was simple; to use us until you fulfilled your destiny. But, Entei-sama, we were always watching..." he spoke that nickname with a vein of mockery. "You helped yourself to all we offered, yet will betray us the moment you feel you're stronger. Your mother finds that admirable."

"That's why I alone was destined for this..." Kouen's hand had already seized hold of his blade's hilt, drawing it out enough to watch the morning light play so viciously over its murderous surface. It was the weapon that housed two of his djinn, and encompassed so much of his power; both the capability to preserve his life, and ensure his enemies' relentless destruction. Fire seemed to crackle though the air, as if proving both agreed with him; that this was how it needed to be. "It's why you all have watched me."

Ithnan didn't seem all that surprised; as if he had expected this. "By all means, if you wish to kill me I'm quite unarmed. "You can destroy both of us..." he indicated that second person, who now approached them. Who was demolishing yet another apple hungrily, wiping its juice lazily from his soaked lips. It wasn't as if Kouen had any desire to eat the food here, he just resented the idea of one of those people taking anything from them.

Only that second magician wasn't one of them, not quite. As eyes of strong ruby eyed over him, he know that much. As he glanced to the all too familiar sight of a sceptre clenched to his fingers, he knew who it was. And that object was an object he'd given to the young Magi on helping him through their first dungeon many years ago. His eyes widened, feeling himself release his sword for it to clatter loudly against the shining floor. "...Judal."

Ithnan nodded triumphantly, as though he had just won. "Attack me and our precious Lord Priest if you wish. But then – he is someone you care for as much as any of your siblings. He and his brother, the two Magi helping you all this time."

"I came to make you a general, Entei-sama. But I don't know, it could be fun not to go easy on you," Judal's voice, once so playful and melodic, sounded little more than a bored, lazy drawl. With his eyes sullen and bruised with fatigue, he didn't even seem himself.

"Done eating everything in sight, then?" Kouen received a cheerful nod. "...What did they do to you?"

"Yeah, they did a lot. I didn't get any say in it though," the Magi declared, which only made the First Prince feel more troubled. "But you know – I'm over that. Especially with how good this power feels; just waiting to burst out again," he gestured to his core. Yet despite his vaunted exclamation of power, which might or might not be true, his words seemed hollow. As if he was convincing himself, and there was no real warmth clinging to his words. "Food's begun to taste good again, too."But you should join with us; accept my power again..."

"I don't want to help them," Kouen admitted. He watched Judal stretch, and hop up onto the railing of the balcony to look down at him. Much in the way he used to as a small child, for the sake of seeming taller than the prince he used to find intimidating.

"You should though," Judal told him. "Don't worry though – as you're such a bad liar we'll believe you anyway. And then your brothers will be safe."

Kouen considered that. "You need me anyway; I'm the only one named as the One King. It's why if I help you, you'll forgive my plotting."

The slim figure, dwarfed in its oversized robes gave an exaggerated sigh. "That's right; those guys don't want to lose you. And do you know how annoying it is when people like sensei go round making me lie to people and say they have a chance? Back in Qishan..." loud laughter took him. "You're right though, you're different. Those guys want you."

"Side with us and Gyokuen-sama will allow you to be named emperor as you wish. And you can have this," Ithnan taunted him with that letter still, it seemed. "And all your precious siblings are free to join us too."

This was it, Kouen knew it. He didn't have much of a choice, as much as he didn't want to admit it. And how siding with them meant the end to so much. But then if he didn't... "Let me think about it."

"Very well," Ithnan nodded, gesturing to Judal who leapt soundlessly down off the balcony railing. He didn't even look at Kouen, yet alone chatter animatedly at him as he often did. Instead, he just felt that letter being pressed to him. More and more, his situation was becoming no less than sickening.

He did however wait until the heavy door shut to a close before uncurling that letter which remained so important. As he opened it, and scanned its contents, it seemed his fears were all but confirmed. Gyokuen's over exaggerated words informed him his father now lay dead. That she, herself, had been too grieved to stop crying for days. Yet the paper was decisively free of tears, and he watched his knuckles whiten upon it. And re-read it, as if expecting that damned woman's words to magically chance.

He had adored his father – at least, the man he had been. Yet from that powerful conqueror-emperor claiming the east, the proud man had changed. He had become sickened, withering under the cold hand of Gyokuen's control. To the point Ren Koutoku was unrecognisable until losing all his pride and influence. Yet Kouen hadn't changed; and quickly accepted this was it. Despite everything and his father's death, he was wanted to stay here. He'd not even be named emperor, not unless it meant siding with them. Becoming another pawn for that vapid woman to use. But then, he doubted he or his siblings would be safe until he acquiesced to as much.

Kouen watched embers flicker from his sword as he picked it up from the floor. He watched magical, burning scarlet lick at that page before erupting it in flames. Then he turned, crossing the room to leave it. At the very wish he was curious what those two men, loyal to both him and his late father, would think of this.