I am somewhat atrocious at regular updates now, aren't I? This chapter probably took longer than I intended but well - I'd rather take time, asking around and getting it right than posting something rushed and I'd probably rewrite anyway. I finally have something I'm happy with, mostly due to the help of Akumrayne and SilverEcstasy. Mainly as when it comes to editing I make some significant, and sometimes comical, errors.

Anyhow, as I don't want to start every chapter apologising (sorry for that, lol) I'll get to it. First off, a huge thanks to PerpetualDreams (yes, I did go through and fix those speech marks! And thank you, I am somewhat appauling at that stuff, lol), Akumarayne and Jellyfish'confetti for their reviews, etc. And everyone else still following, etc this story.

Enjoy~

Chapter 17

It was a strange, yet somehow familiar place Aladdin found himself in. He had been lying somewhat uncomfortably on a cold floor, covered in gold tiles, before blinking and glancing about him. From the neat rows of study desks and chairs, the circular room was some manner of library. And one, the loud humming of his surrounding rukh informed him, was one he knew well. From floor to marble archway, the majestic place he came find himself in with stacked with countless shelves. And each and every of those shelves were all but fit to bursting with books; more than he had ever seen before. And it seemed they were well loved too; their creased covers of black, red and green seemed old, even from where he was. And they all appeared to bear ancient, neatly stencilled titles in the Toran language. He doubted even Magnostadt, which boasted whole towers to whatever had been inscribed off dungeon walls, could match a collection like this.

Even so, Magnostadt was only able to gain as much in less than two decades; given that was when the first dungeons were discovered. Yet these seemed so much older than that.

He sat up in his curious surroundings, and heard something of a rustle and then a light thud behind him. Streams of white fur raced across the shadows as dozens of small, fluffy white creatures scattered in various directions. They considered the blue-haired disturbance with keen, pale eyes as they fled from him. Yet with a glance Aladdin discerned these animals were constructed with magoi; not unlike the creations fashioned by djinns in their dungeons. So that's where he was, this ancient, familiar library with impossibly old books, was a dungeon?

It couldn't be that, and his mind attempted to make sense of this. He didn't see how he'd be in a dungeon; he had seemingly moments before been watching a heated sparring match between Sinbad and Hakuryuu. Granted it could be a dream, yet it felt a little too real for that. Yet familiar, almost painfully so, as if this striking and elegant place was somewhere he had not been in so long.

He brushed those concerns from his mind. Instead he approached one of the many shelves to examine its contents. Titles he found himself skimming, as if a single glance was enough for Aladdin to know their contents. Impossibly, his rukh and his instincts told him he had studied each and every text at some point. And not just once; over the course of many years or perhaps even lifetimes. More than long enough to have read each book countless times, and know them intimately. Much like encountering a collection of Toran texts older than twenty years, which also seemed impossible, given the nineteen years he had been alive.

Mulling over that suddenly caused his eyes to grow warm inexplicably, and as he reached up he found himself brushing at the threat of tears. As though standing in this place was enough for him to feel saddened. It was almost as though everything here was something he had once treasured, yet had forgotten. When, really, it was somewhat impossible to forget a place one has such love and familiarity with. The musky smell of pages, of the old furniture...the gentle warmth of candlelight, none of this should have been forgettable at all.

Yet his mind insisted he had never been there. Caught between that conflict of his instinct and his lack of memories, his fingertips idled over one of the top shelves before drawing a book out. It bore a crimson leather cover, and its golden title read "Rising from the Ashes: A Response to Nueph's Critique on the Nature of Fire Magic", written by someone calling themselves S. J. Abraham. He started at the lettering vaguely, before opening it up. And not long passed before he found himself absorbed in its yellowed, slightly dog-earned pages and the not so academic, highly colloquial words in Toran written within.

"...I can't believe you finally made it back here, Aladdin," not too long passed before someone announced themselves behind him in a quiet, yet carrying voice. The book clasped shut, uttering a quiet echo in the towering halls as he turned to glance at the approaching djinn. It was a towering figure, with one of those same, cute and furry magical creations draped lazily around its broad, blue-skinned shoulders. An entity naked to the waist, and with trails of dazzling lights flitting about him. And clearly someone who seemed shocked, yet please to encounter the person standing before him.

The Magi was reduced to gaping, watching the person's rukh swarm out to him, as if in greeting of an old friend. Or, as their loud yet wordless song insisted, a beloved student who long ago had been bequeathed with all the knowledge of his teacher. Again, he found himself reaching up to rub at stinging eyes. "U-Ugo-sensei! ...Is that really you?"

A kind smile crossed the handsome features of the figure as he halted and gazed over him. "Sensei, is it? It's been many years since I was able to teach you anything you didn't know already. It's...so strange though, seeing you look so young again. Enough to make me feel old."

It might well be the case. As far as Aladdin knew, djinns didn't age. They had apparently once been human and powerful magicians at a time. He looked up at that third, jewelled eye engraved in Ugo's forehead. The same eye that watched him closely, as if searching him for something. It stopped shortly afterwards, apparently satisfied, and it was then the gigantic and muscular form descended into kneeling; as if in reverence of the comparatively tiny figure ahead of him. A hand, larger than the entirety of Aladdin's body, reached out, placing itself on the top of his head to ruffle affectionately at his hair.

"...I missed you," he declared somewhat abruptly, as if only just realising as much.

"Yes, I missed you too. It really has been that long, Aladdin. I was beginning to think all I was ever going to be able to do was see your dreams. And never see you find your way here," the djinn drew back up. "Were you hurt, then? The rukh try to bring back any of the Magi in that world here if they've been harmed or encountered black rukh."

...That world?

For a moment Aladdin simply looked over Ugo, confused. As far as he recalled, he had only just witnessed that duel between Sinbad and Hakuryuu. But no, there was more. That cloud of darkened and cold magic billowing out and rendering him faint. Something resembling black birds, butterflies...rukh. He paused. Such a thing, his mind insisted, didn't exist.

Then why had he seen them?

The chattering told him that's why he had found his way here, seeing such a thing. It had been enough for him to force himself to appear here, in the place he belonged to. Yet everything had happened so fast, too fast to really make sense of anything else. He shook his head. "No, I wasn't hurt. I just saw something...weird, and found myself here," he glanced about. "Where is this place, anyway?"

"This became my home, of sorts. When Scheherazade or Yunan started appearing here and I tended to them, they started calling it the Room of Fortitude. As they'd come here when they were hurt, or needed me. A long time ago our King asked me to watch over the Magi of that world, so it's what I've done. Healed and protected them as best I can."

Aladdin frowned. He wasn't sure, really, what "that world" referred to. "I'm a bit lost. Did I end up here as I saw those darkened rukh, then?"

"It's likely," Ugo had gone from being relieved he wasn't harmed, to seemingly troubled over what he had just said. "But then, if you did, it meant at least we finally got to meet again after all this time. I'm glad for that."

Many questions sprang to mind. A cold dread, as if asking about the black rukh would only grant Aladdin knowledge he didn't wish to know. Along with that, what Ugo meant when he referred to "that" world. More than anything, there was that inclination they had met before, even if he couldn't remember that. His rukh, and the core of him, both insisted he had known this person for a long time. And just as Ugo had implied; that he had once served as a teacher, then later a colleague and a friend.

He reached up, gripping at the flute hanging from its chain around his neck. Throughout his life, it had always been in his possession. He had always been able to call upon the djinn to help him. And Aladdin couldn't remember acquiring it – it hadn't just been given to him, like Gyokuen had given Kassim to Judal. He couldn't even recall picking it up as a dungeon treasure from one his brother had risen. It had just always been there, before he knew the first thing about magic.

The djinn watched him quietly. "A lot of this might not make sense to you. There was a lot you've forgotten that..." he paused.

"...That, what, sensei? What is it?" Ugo seemed unwilling to say more. As if not wanting to trouble him with it, so he started forward deliberately. "Tell me," he said, and with a tone more commanding and forceful than he thought possible. "I want to know why all this feels familiar to me, but I can't remember it."

For a moment he was met with surprise, before the entity bowed slightly as if to adhere to his unintended order. "Well...it was Gyokuen who did it," Gyokuen? The same woman who had been something of a mother to him. The wife of the Emperor, who had welcomed he and his brother as orphans into the palace in Kou, and loved them as much as any of her children.? It had to be someone else. "It's the same woman, she lied to you. She's controlled you, and for a long time nothing I could do would come close to breaking that hold she held on you. Maybe...now you're here, that will change."

"I don't understand though. She helped us she...she taught me, not you," Aladdin replied quietly, even if somehow that didn't seem right. His rukh insisted as much. "I don't know, so you taught me as well? I know this place; I loved it here. You're trying to say I belong here?"

"Aladdin; I'm trying to say you were from this world. From Alma-Toran, before you fled to and were born into that one," he stared blankly, and shook his head. "You know you spent a lot of time here, don't you?" he indicated to the book clasped in his arms. "After everything...you feel there's something wrong. But you know you can trust me."

"I do. I'm not sure if I trust her, though," he admitted finally. For a moment Aladdin found himself distracted by that creature curled up on Ugo's shoulders. How it uncurled itself, flopped soundlessly to the floor and took to winding gracefully amongst the table and chair legs away from them. "But...I was taken in by her. Isn't that true?"

The djinn shook his head. "In a way, yes. But that's after a lot happened. After she lied to you for so long, and even stopped us meeting."

That threat of tears, again, was returning. "I can't believe that..."

"It's difficult, but you commanded me to tell you," for a moment, Ugo looked over him. Almost as if he was reluctant to tell him more. And in that instant Aladdin felt as if he'd take back an order he had never intended to make. "There's something about this place, isn't there? Like if I asked, you'd know the very table we always sat at. That you know the book you're holding now was your favourite. All this time, we're meeting as old friends, not strangers. And you're just confused as that doesn't seem possible."

Stunned, he slowly nodded. Almost feeling as if he was reeling from a blow, Aladdin found himself crossing to sit at the desk furthest from them, book in hand. He sat down, looking over the ball of silken fur currently snoozing lazily in front of him. Absently he scratched between the creature's ears, closing his eyes as he thought to consult his rukh again for their thoughts. And received the answer to learn what he could. "I always loved this place, that beautiful tower right in the middle of the city. But that's all I see. Just that and nothing else. I want to remember it."

"...I know."

It occurred to Aladdin, now whilst he could, that he needed to remember. That if he had really been from here, in this yesterday world of Alma-Toran which had been destroyed and lost long again, he wanted to know what had happened. What did it mean, to be born in his world as well? To have all those memories of a previous time and place ripped from his mind? The fingers of his free hand bit into the scratched desk as he resolved himself. "Then I want you to tell me everything, sensei."

Ugo leaned back against the wall, toned and blue-skinned arms folded over his chest in thought as he bowed his head. "Aladdin..." he began gently. "Even if I did, you might not remember this? Then won't you just be getting upset, again and again, in the hope of not forgetting this?"

He smiled. "You're kind, I remember that." Slowly the djinn met his eye. "What if seeing those black rukh enough so I appear here means something? Now I'm here, you can tell me, and I'll remember – right?"

"...Maybe we should just enjoy meeting each other again. We could even talk about these books if you wanted, as we used to," he sighed, and could see from the azure determination shining in his old student's eyes that wasn't going to happen. He eyed over the flute, still hanging round Aladdin's neck, and finally nodded. "Alright, then, Aladdin. If you want me to tell you everything and try to recall it when you wake, I will. Just say the word."

Eagerly he nodded. That influx of questions was already pouring in his mind, in a way as painful as it was refreshing. He didn't want to forget this time, and assured himself something had changed. And at last he spoke. "...Then tell me, how it was I was born into that world. Does it mean I'm as much from there as I am from Alma-Toran? That I'm still oni-san's brother. That...what the black rukh are, how our home was destroyed, exactly. That if we failed in protecting this world, how I can help that one."

Ugo paused, for a long moment. "You haven't changed. Right from the start, you wanted to know everything you could. Even to things I didn't know myself," he laughed slightly, despite that. "Very well, let's see what I can tell you..."

"How many times do I have to say it so you'll listen to me?! I didn't do anything wrong!" since the events in the courtyard, Hakuryuu had claimed the same thing. And long since the shocked audience had been dispersed, at that. Now he was being ushered away from two burly looking, silent and somewhat expressionless guards. And two guards who paid no mind to the fact he was shouting somewhat loudly.

Not really knowing what to do, or what to make of this, Alibaba had chosen to amble after his fellow prince as he was escorted away.

Alibaba really had no clear picture of what had happened in that incident. From the clashing of sword on sword, to Aladdin's insistence both Sinbad's djinn and Hakuryuu's weapon had cleansed the black rukh and saved the bystanders of anything worse, he felt somewhat bewildered. And given everything, he doubted he was the only one. He hadn't even had the chance to speak to anyone. Aladdin had collapsed, and moments later Yamaraiha had arrived to apparently see to him. Sharrkan and Masrur, too, had entered the scene, undoubtedly to deal with their king. Hakuryuu was led away, and the confused onlookers gradually thinned in numbers before they, too, vanished from the courtyard.

So now...he was following a clearly upset and slightly raving person.

Red faced and bordering on that state between tears and hysteria, Hakuryuu definitely disliked being marched off. Yet he was being led from the colourful gardens, crossing several long and glistening hallways to be brought back to what Alibaba suspected would be their room. All the while complaining, and professing his innocence. That too was something Alibaba only had Aladdin to believe on; but then, he didn't see why Hakuryuu would attack anyone. Let alone in such a public way. All the same; to think his weapon could do such a thing. Capable of neutralising something harmful, or even standing a chance against Sinbad. Hakuryuu had gotten that far and...Alibaba swallowed nervously. In a way, seeing just how well the exiled prince had been doing made him wonder what he had been doing this whole time.

Needless to say, that weapon had been stripped from him. That was what had got Hakuryuu in such a state. He span round, flourishing somewhat dramatically as he was marched up to the doors of their room. His miss-toned eyes still pleaded; not for his innocence now, but for a response. Any response, anything but their cold silence. It was then, finally, his attention fell on Alibaba. As if only just realising he was there. "...You! How could you just follow and let me be led here like this! Like I tried to..." he watched the guards face him, and swallowed heavily. "N-no! I didn't try to kill..." he looked devastated. "Please – you saw it didn't you?! The black rukh? Tell them!"

Again, Alibaba hadn't seen a thing like that. As much as he could insist otherwise, and quietly wanted to, he didn't. He believed Aladdin, and Hakuryuu, but for a moment he remained silent. And wished this wasn't left up to him. "I...don't think you'd hurt him, no."

Did he really sound that uncertain? Perhaps he did, judging by Hakuryuu's expression, and those two men not budging at all.

"I...should have known," Hakuryuu sounded somewhat defeated. "I knew it would end like this. That everyone here doesn't trust me. I just...I wanted to prove myself. Sinbad-sama asked me to...to...and then this happened? I saved him, can't you all see that?!"

Alibaba wasn't even sure that was it, and Hakuryuu was blamed for such a thing. Instead, it seemed like he and many others were just confused and didn't know what they had seen. "...I guess, if they really thought you tried to do that, they would tell you. And they wouldn't lead you here, either. They'd be putting you in a cell or planning your execution."

"E-execution?!"

Perhaps Alibaba shouldn't have said that. No, he felt he'd definitely regret saying that.

The doors were opened, and with a look Hakuryuu passed through them, silently and without argument. As if he was truly stunned by the proceedings. As the wordless guards set themselves up outside, Alibaba entered the room. And just figured that Hakuryuu would yell for him not being supportive enough.

"...I don't know. It probably won't be as bad as that," he had begun, tentative and cautious. As Hakuryuu turned, he fixed Alibaba with something of an unreadable, somewhat blank expression. One he had no idea how to interpret, and fumbled with his words accordingly. "M-maybe you should just think for a moment. You could ask for an audience and – ah!"

"...T-thank you so much for believing me! I didn't think anyone would!" a wailing, livid whirl of heavy clothes and a red face had thrown itself upon him. Alibaba, stunned, was hit with enough force by the prince to pin him to the door behind him as Hakuryuu sobbed rather openly into his shoulder. That grateful grip on his arms was somewhat painful, the type of death-lock Alibaba was so used to from when they had sparred together.

He remained there, not sure what to do. And secretly thinking he didn't deserve it.

"It's...fine, don't mention it," he attempted nervously. "Just...calm down, alright?"

A head of clipped, black hair shook its head. "Calm down? How can I? You're the only one who believes me in this place. Everyone else just thinks I...I wouldn't just go and try assassinate a king!"

"...Well, no," he was thankful when he was finally released. Hakuryuu took to sniffing loudly, clearly embarrassed and tried to compose himself. Failing that he collapsed heavily at the foot of his bed. Weapon less and distraught, he didn't seem to know what to do with himself, and seemed to settle for staring at the pale wall opposite him. And Alibaba just had no idea how to console him, or what to do. Wishing to avoid any corresponding embraces by Hakuryuu and their death grips he crossed the room, pushing the window open to let in the gushing breeze. So he moved to the door to open a window and let the gushing breeze in. "You'd make a pretty bad assassin if you did that in front of everyone, right? Why train here for years just to do that now? You'd be awful at killing someone."

"...At least I could kill someone, you pointy-haired dolt..." Hakuryuu muttered, quietly as though he figured if he spoke softly he'd not be heard. Then he looked up and scowled as Alibaba self-consciously flattened his hair following that. "...Just what do you think I've done all this for? It's to train so I can get revenge!" he looked somewhat dangerously flustered again. "Oh – forget it. You're awful at consoling someone, you should never do it! The worst, actually!"

Alibaba nodded slightly. "Sure, but you still consoled me so it's what you get now. You know, back when you treated my wounds," he lowered his gaze. "Look...you know you're better than me at a lot of things," he admitted quietly, aware Hakuryuu in turn would have heard his hushed confession to such a thing. "In the courtyard though – a lot was going on. And not everyone can see rukh all the time. Or even jump into help as you did. You know how it might look. But then...no one really knows what to think – right?"

"...You knew what to think."

"Sure but," Alibaba hesitated. "That's because I believe you."

"...What if they ask me to leave Sindria though? What if Sinbad-sama doesn't realise I wanted to help him?" the crumpled figure wasn't really listening to him. Instead, he was running his hands through his hair in agitation, and shaking his head. "But...I don't want to leave. Even when I go with onee-san and my cousins, I wanted to come back here after. I like it here, even if I'm not wanted. Damnit...I actually had fun here. Training with you!"

Alibaba looked over him wearily; training what not something he considered fun, yet was too scared to admit that. "I thought you'd hate it. I'm not as good as you, and get beaten all the time. You always seem frustrated."

"T-true, and it's sort of appealing you're still so bad at it. But...it's also kind of fun. It's nice knowing I can always beat you. And I figured I could always fight Sharrkan-sensei or someone else seriously."

...Huh. He could have done without knowing that. "Just for you saying that to me, I won't tell anyone you didn't try to kill King Sinbad."

"N-no, I'm sorry I wasn't serious! I..." they eyed each other. "Oh, really don't joke about such things! This is too important. How...did you know I didn't do it, anyway? Or do you just have faith in me?"

"...I just have faith in you," it was this constant insistence which was making Alibaba feel increasingly ashamed of himself. But then, he reasoned, Hakuryuu wouldn't have wanted to hear Aladdin had anything to do with this, or had told him anything. So he just looked over as Hakuryuu smiled softly and took to unwrapping the bandages from his fingers. Alibaba was beginning to feel guilty, lying about such a thing. It seemed so pointless but then Hakuryuu had seemed so relieved, and it should have made Alibaba feel better too, seeing that. Yet it didn't, all things considered.

"I think I saved Sinbad-sama, you know," Hakuryuu told him, the pride returning to his voice. "And one of his djinn did but...what would have caused all those black rukh to appear? How could he have something like that in him?"

Alibaba had always suspected such a thing, even if the response he received was a little more defensive. He sighed, and stepped out onto the balcony. "Sometimes...people mess up. They don't mean to, but in a bad moment they do or say things they don't want to. In his case, maybe he just got used to not losing."

Light footsteps joined him, as if Hakuryuu, on the seeming faith of one person believing in him, no longer paid much mind to the prospect of a whole country thinking badly of him. The two stood, side by side, looking down onto the courtyard below. The one they had trained in, and that Hakuryuu thought Alibaba enjoyed that training. Another way Alibaba guessed he had deceived him, as it was easier to pretend in that way then admit how hard training was, or even how it ended up having him feel more and more inadequate.

"So...if I ask for an audience with Sinbad-sama, do you think he'll understand I was just trying to help?" Hakuryuu asked softly. And Alibaba simply nodded. "I don't want everyone hating me. Well, perhaps hate is the wrong word. More-"

"...I think I get it."

Since they had met, he knew Hakuryuu had been so set in his aims. Even if many were nervous or distrusting, or even thought he was a spy, he was still here. Alibaba on the other hand was treated warmly, Sinbad was even protecting him, and he didn't feel worthy of it. Hakuryuu had even thrown himself into training, possibly as a way of dealing with that distrust as well as finally seeking his revenge.

In some ways, they were too different.

"It's just funny, that I wanted just a chance. This one chance to prove myself to everyone. Sharrkan-sensei had even said how hard I've been working. I get that chance...and then..."

"...You somehow end up making everyone think you're trying to commit regicide on behalf of the Kou Empire?"

"...Honestly, do you even have the right to joke about that? Especially with everything you went through?" Hakuryuu turned to him.

"Ah, you know, I didn't actually want Abhmad dead. I didn't want anyone to die there – I just wanted the situation to stop..." perhaps that was still his problem. He really had believed with that coup, everything would turn out. That he could follow the lead of others, solve this peacefully and no one would suffer. He hadn't even thought of the next stage, when he would be king. And, Alibaba thought as his hands clasped each other, which would have been why Kassim probably resented him. Definitely he thought that was why he just felt more detached than he should. "Well, I doubt you'll actually want to hurt your mother either when it comes to it."

"...I'm not sure about that," a usual, and somewhat dark reply. He had expected as much. From the few, sketched details Hakuryuu had told him, his training and vengeance were absolute. That he would take the life of the Empress in Kou, and it would be for his father and brothers. That more than anything, he wanted to be reunited with his sister. "It will happen soon, anyway. As soon as onee-san says, I'll start, but I do want to come back here."

"...Do you still need my help?" he asked, even if he feared the answer.

A bright smile, brighter than he would have thought. Perhaps as right then, Hakuryuu still thought he believed him unconditionally. Really, Alibaba had just been keen to not get into any manner of confrontation, and being praised for simply saying he believed in someone was nicer than he thought it would be. He just hadn't thought maybe it had been what Hakuryuu had needed to hear. "Even if you're not the best fighter, you've always stuck with me and that means a lot. Really, thank you; I don't know what I'd do without you."

"...Yeah."

Alibaba was almost grateful when Hakuryuu suddenly seemed to mutter about something concerning a bath, and excused himself. As his thoughts ran into each other, he recalled only vaguely that his fellow prince had left. But then, Hakuryuu was so dedicated in this, so much so it was like a constant reminder of how much time Alibaba had wasted. How the sanctuary offered by Sindria was an excuse for him not to return to Balbadd. He ran his fingers through his hair; did he really want to keep making excuses? Did he want to lie to his friends, pretending to cheer them up whilst fixating on making himself feel better? He didn't think he'd want that.

A light dusting of rain struck against his nose and cheeks overhead, delivered by the gathering thick, ominous clouds overhead. It seemed another storm would be upon them soon, and likely as heavy as the last. He stood there, enjoying a break from the humidity of Sindria, and gathered his thoughts over what to do next.