In which Kalim's life takes a different turn, and he becomes the King of Thieves much like Aladdin's father did in the third movie.


Jamil knew he was screwed. If the death curse didn't kill him, the 'King' known only as Aquarius likely would.

Honestly, at this point he didn't care so long as his sister was safe from that bastard. Being under the thumb of the Al Asim heir was a living hell.

He was marched into the well decorated, but not overly lavish throne room. He knew this was likely the last thing he would ever see, so why not make the most of it.

The throne room was well furnished, but not in a tacky way. All the furnishings were old, well cared for and decorated in a tasteful manner. Even the rugs were old, but were in good repair and kept clean.

It was the man on the throne that held his full attention. He had made a real name for himself that even the Al Asim were wary of him and his exploits. It said far too much of his skill level that someone under the age of twenty had obtained a title as infamous as the King of Thieves.

It was the sort of title that one only earned from blood, sweat and skill, and only invited all sorts of headaches from assassins and those who wanted to claim the title for themselves.

The first thing that struck him were the eyes. While they were the same shade of red as Hassan, they held far more kindness and intelligence. His skin was caramel colored, from what little he could see. His hair was as white as the jasmine flowers that were so popular in Silk city, and looked just as soft. His dark clothing was well cut, and hugged his body in such a way that it would not hinder movement. He wore a strip of cloth across his face that blocked anything below the eyes and covered the nose. It was lovingly embroidered with the constellation known as Aquarius in silver thread.

At his hip was a sword with a magestone in the hilt, and was clearly well used. Jamil had heard of the man's skill with the sword.

He could feel the curse placed upon him by Hassan constricting against his neck, tightening into the noose that would kill him.

Aquarius eyed Jamil with a calm, detached gaze.

"Anything you'd like to say?" he said calmly.

The authority in his voice was unmistakable, as was the implied arrogance. This was a man who commanded some of the most terrifying mercenaries in the Scalding Sands, and damn well knew his orders would be obeyed to the letter.

His life was forfeit. He understood this to an instinctual level, and had all but given up hope at this point.

Besides, some of the stories he had heard about Aquarius said volumes about his character. So he decided to hell with it, he might as well make his plea before the curse killed him for his insubordination.

"I don't care what you do to me. I won't survive the night regardless. But please, save my sister!"

Aquarius' eyes narrowed at that.

"Your...sister?"

Jamil had honestly stopped caring about the reputation of the Al Asim or any sense of propriety. Aquarius had acquired an odd "reputation" of holding hostage several young women of good breeding...all of whom were potential marriage candidates for the Al Asim heir, and some he had taken an interest in.

From what little Jamil knew of the matter, the families had willingly sent their daughters to be 'hostages' of the Thief King to prevent Hassan from going near them or ruining their futures.

Jamil knew of the secret rooms Hassan used, and the fates of several young women of lower class families. The only reason Hassan had never targeted Najma was because he had quickly realized that threatening her with his 'special room' was enough to make Jamil do almost anything to prevent it. He found it amusing to torment his servant by using his sister against him.

Now that he was captured, and likely to be killed, Hassan would have no reason to hold back on any urges. The Al Asim would look the other way as they always had, especially since Najma was from their own servants.

Aquarius got up and went to Jamil. There was a sense of kindness that was lacking in Hassan. Strangely, the curse lessened around his throat, making it easier to breath.

"Why would your sister need saving?" asked Aquarius.

Jamil looked him in the eyes, his expression full of lost hope and desperation.

"Hassan had made it clear that he would not touch my sister or take her to his...special room...so long as I serve him," said Jamil carefully. "This was the only way I could protect her, as our family has served the Al Asim for generations and the life of a servant was of no consequence."

Aquarius had a measured expression in his eyes.

"Hakim," he said calmly.

A male with muscles that made it look like he could crush melons with his bare hands with nary a thought stepped out of the shadows.

"Sir," he replied.

"Prepare a group. We're heading to Silk City."

"Sir," he agreed. And that was that.

Jamil felt himself lifted up by a second man. Aquarius looked him in the eye, and felt strangely comforted. He couldn't really identify the feeling that was welling up inside him. It had a distinctly different feel to the usual despair.

"One thing though," said Aquarius, pausing his men. "We'll need to do something about that death curse around your neck."

That got everyone in the room to freeze up. Death curses had been outlawed for good reason, and that was due to how nasty they could get. Only certain people were allowed to cast them and usually for the most heinous of criminals. The sort that were usually consigned to slavery and where death would be a mercy.

Aquarius reached up and with a quick flick of his wrist, sliced his left thumb just enough to draw blood with a dagger he had hidden on his waist. It would heal up soon enough.

Jamil didn't understand the words Aquarius chanted in a low tone under his breath. But he certainly felt the ancient magic in the air as Aquarius swiped the bloodied thumb across Jamil's neck.

There was a raging heat under his skin, and he would have collapsed if he hadn't been held up. A searing pain shot through his spine as he felt the curse react to the blood sacrifice. Something forcibly wrenched itself from under his skin, which began to bleed freely...before turning into a pitch black snake of malevolent origins.

Aquarius didn't even hesitate. His spell sword sliced the thing into ribbons before it had a chance to strike.

Jamil felt faint...his magic was not only drained, but he was beginning to pass out from the sudden loss of blood.

He blacked out before he understood what was happening.


With Aquarius...

Hakim whistled, mostly at the sheer size and amount of blood lost. Whoever had cast this was one hell of a nasty piece of work.

The other boy would be in for a nasty recovery from the looks of it, but if their boss had gone so far as to remove that sort of curse, then he clearly saw potential in him.

"Boss?" he asked.

"Keep him alive. We'll rescue the sister, and perhaps she can elaborate on this...special room...he mentioned."

He had heard nothing but bad things about the Al Asim heir. The kid was an arrogant bastard who looked down on the lower classes, and it was only because of the superior servant he had around that had kept him alive this long. And that wasn't getting into the nasty rumors he had heard of the brat.

Puberty had not be kind, and had made the kid ten times worse from what he heard.


Najma knew she would likely have only one chance to use the dagger her brother had given her. She was well aware of the special room, and that she would rather die than go anywhere near it.

Seeing that smug, arrogant look on Hassan's face made her dearly wish she could use the dagger on him, and damn the consequences. No one could possibly miss the feeling of despair that had slowly crept into the city. Even the tourists could feel it, it was that bad.

Hassan stood next to one of the open canals. No one would dare touch him in public, not if they valued their life. And he damn well knew this, the brazen prick.

Najma resigned herself to her fate, and that she would have only moments to use her dagger when it happened.

At first she thought she was seeing things. But the water silently rose in such a subtle way that she almost missed it. Hassan didn't even notice it at all, at least until the shadow fell over him. He turned and was struck so suddenly it left everyone shocked.

Before she could even process what had happened, a strong arm wrapped itself around her waist and she felt herself being carried off.

It took her several seconds to register the warmth of the body holding her, or the subtle thrum of magic under their skin. With the way the person was holding her, she had two choices...try to fight or cling to his neck and hope for the best.

With what waited for her if she was found, Najma did the sensible thing and re-positioned herself to give the kidnapper an easier time escaping with his prize. He lengthened his stride, and held her more securely.

It wasn't until she saw the embroidered pattern on his mask that she realized what was happening...and wanted to cry with relief.

She was so emotionally overwhelmed she blacked out once they reached the transport.

Aquarius returned and immediately handed over Najma to the 'hostages'. Which the men had taken to calling his personal harem.

He had been rather firm about not touching any of the girls. A fact they knew and respected, since they were only hostages by technicality. In reality any one of them would have happily gone to his bed without argument, as they held a great respect for him.

After all, he had 'kidnapped' them for their own protection.

Najma woke up in one of the most comfortable beds she had ever been in, bar none.

"So, you're the latest 'hostage' of the Boss," said one of the older girls.

"Where am I?"

"The Shrouded City," she replied.

Najma's eyes widened.

"I thought..."

"The city fell due to drought, and it was abandoned?" she laughed. "It was. But the Boss brought it back, and now it serves as our base."

Najma looked at the woman closely.

"You're the heiress of the Yasmine family. The one who produces the silk," she said.

The woman smiled.

"My name is Nefertiri, but everyone here just calls me Yas," she replied. "You'll find you're in good company here. Everyone knows not to touch the harem of the Boss...not if they value their life."

"Harem?" said Najma, alarmed.

Yas laughed, and it sounded like the tinkling of bells.

"Think closer to the more traditional version of the term, not the one popular media has made of it. This section is only permitted to the women, men are strictly forbidden. It is our sanctuary," she replied.

It was also closer to the pools and the flower gardens, which the women appreciated. Having a safe space where men could not enter was a blessing to them, since all women were permitted inside.

Najma found herself relaxing as she was shown around the quarters. She would have her own room, though if she wished she was allowed to stay with one of the older girls until she settled in.

"Am I a prisoner here?" she asked Yas.

Yas shook her head.

"The Boss encourages us to have our own little hobbies. While we are expected to help maintain the garden where all the food is grown, that is a small price to pay for the freedom we enjoy. I know several of the girls have taken up painting, dancing, even learning a trade. We are free to leave the quarters as we wish, and wander around the city."

The only restriction was leaving the city, but that was more for security reasons, never mind that they would have great difficulty finding sources of drinkable water this deep in the desert.

They were allowed to call their families within reason. They did have to maintain secrecy of their location after all.

Yas lead Najma outside the women's quarters and to the infirmary. The girl cried out in alarm when she registered her older brother unconscious with several bandages around him.

"Jamil!"

Najma was at his side in an instant.

"He'll live. Our spell breakers had one hell of a time removing half the curses on him, and even then only the Boss had any real success with the worst of the lot," said the doctor. "He's lost a lot of blood though."

For some reason only the Boss had the ability to break the blood-bound curses on the teen, and even then he had been magically exhausted from the effort. Whoever had done this to the boy was a sadist of the highest order.

Either way, the boy would owe the Boss a life debt for it, at the very least.