Disclaimer: I do not own Magi

Lost, Strayed, Fallen

3rd Moment: Sinbad - False Salvation

Sitting on on a windown sill with one knee drawn up, eyes gazing absently into the lightless night ahead, was the High King of the Seven Seas, Sinbad of Sindria.

"That, as you well know, was not necessary."

Amber eyes lowered to regard an object in his palm, he murmured back to the black shadow of his dark room in a bored voice: "And I don't remember raising you to have the habit of eavesdropping..."

A near presence-less figure stepped out of the darkest shadow.

"Ja'far."

Dark eyes narrowed to slits as Ja'far observed his king. To all who didn't know him well enough would think that nothing had gone amiss with this man but since he knew this person well enough he knew something wasn't right with him and he, who decided to approach him at all, was treading on a very, very dangerous ground.

And if he's not careful...

"Sin, you didn't have to do that," said Ja'far with a sigh, turning to the small table where a jug of water and a basin were placed.

Sinbad turned the little piece about in his hand, having it catching the moon's light in different angles.

"I didn't have to do...what?" he asked, voice soft and smooth as silk.

The small hairs at the back of his neck stood on ends; Ja'far could sensed sharp steel underneath that silk very clearly.

There was the faintest tremor as he poured water into the basin. He hoped his voice sounded as calm as he had heard it echoing in the large and silent room. "Painting your image black. It's black enough as is for both of them. You're overdoing it."

"Overdoing it, is it?" chuckled Sinbad. "But, you know, I actually think I haven't done it quite enough."

Ja'far glanced at him.

"Don't you think it's high time that she should know I'm no prince she had imagined I was? Now, she should appreciate the truth and look at it with her own eyes much better than before. And you," he laughed. "Why are you acting so nervous? I'm fine. This isn't my first time and you know it."

He didn't have to ask to know who 'she' he was referring to and, of course, he was nervous. Despite the fact that this wasn't the first time, he was still nervous as though it was the first time all over again.

No matter how many times it had been, no matter how fine he might seem, Ja'far knew it hit Sinbad hard every time it happened. Just that...if he guessed correctly, this time...was a little harder those previous times.

But he didn't give voice to his thought. He merely walked toward his king and handed him a clean damp towel.

Sinbad blinked at it.

"Your hand, Sin," Ja'far whispered, keeping his eyes lowered.

Sinbad looked at his hand - the hand that had been holding onto a jagged piece of what could have been a broken glass was red with blood from the little cuts all over the fingers and palm.

This wasn't all his blood - but no one needed to know that. Only he...should know things like this.

"With this," smiled Sinbad, taking the towel from Ja'far but didn't use it to wipe his other hand with. "She should have a place to direct her hatred at, no?"

Ja'far kept his head bowed, not replying and listening silently.

"She's bound to 'fall' sooner or later. So, at least, she should have a clear reason to 'fall', shouldn't she? Since I'm the one dragging her into this, it's only my responsibility to drag her down to the very end."

Sinbad looked down at the shattered piece of blood-stained glass in his hand, absently imagining of what it used to be, what it had looked like before getting reduced to this.

Just like her.

And many people before her.

They were all broken and became fallen...

Because he meant for them to be so.

To achieve his objective, he would do anything - anything at all - if it meant his dream could be realized.

"It's only right... It's her right to know who has caused her 'fall'. And by knowing, she won't be able to do anything but to fall further. She'll come to me, Ja'far. Fallen and ready, she'll come to me."

Sinbad laughed. It was a bright and triumphant laugh.

But to Ja'far's ears, it sounded forced, bitter, and very hollow.

"Tomorrow!" said Sinbad, getting up and standing straight. "Tomorrow will mark another big step forward! I'm getting closer, Ja'far!"

That happy declaration only very barely made a register to his subordinate's mind; Ja'far's eyes were trained to the fist that was still holding tightly to that piece of broken glass which must have cut deeper into the already cut palm. He wondered if the sharper end had reached the bone.

Working toward Eutopia? Salvation to all? For whose sake was he doing all of this for? The initial cause, the reason they had started all this... since when had it chaged this much?

Since when had this man forsaken his own salvation?

The image of the battered princess in a blood stained robe, her eyes burning with hatred and sorrow, flitted across his mind.

Perhaps... perhaps... it's still possible. Otherwise, why didn't he leave her alone instead of forcing on her a reason to continue this miserable life? Was it not because it might be possible that she, unlike those before her who had failed, would give him a different answer? Perhaps, somewhere deep down Sin could still be...

"Ja'far?"

Startled out of his reverie, Ja'far quickly put his hands together and bowed. "Everything shall be as my king wishes it."

Sinbad eyed him a moment, then he laughed and turned toward the window, looking out and ahead into the lightless night sky once more.

But then again, reflected Ja'far, my prediction regarding my king has never been too true. Maybe...it's even as false as the dream he speaks of.

That night, the towel was never used and the broken piece of glass...was most likely thrown away, though he would never dare to find out. He knew that by the next morning, the numerous cuts on that hand would all disappear as though they had never been there.

As for him, he would pretend that the king's momentary slip of weakness had never happened. He would, as he had always done, follow his king down to whichever path he chose to walk on to the very bitter end.

That's right...

Even if what they were after might prove to be false, they had already chosen.

They...had only to proceed forward.

That I managed to put three chapters out in less than two days shows how strongly I feel about Kouen's death. No, I still can't accept it and I still dislike Sinbad more than before but... I can't deny that the current developments do much for the characters' depth.

I might write another chapter - which should be the last - on Kougyoku's side after Kouen's execution. That is most likely what I want to see her becoming though when it comes to reality, I'm sure Ohtaka-sensei won't be so...forgiving.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Again, no flames, thank you very much. Comments and opinions, as always, will be much appreciated.

Thanks for reading!