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silly-nonny-fics-are-for-fandoms · 7 years

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Memories, Chapter 1: For the one who wants nothing.

So, this is my fic for the MagiBB! Or, at least, chapter one. There’s three chapters of it and they will be posted as close to one another as I can get them. Without further adieu, enjoy!

“Hey, Vittel?” Sinbad asked, sitting down at the table where the ex-assassin sat. The teenager had been curious about something for a while, and when he was curious, he got answers at any cost. Though, this one should be easy.

“Yeah, Sinbad?” Responded Vittel, putting down the pen he was using to write on the accounting bills.

“How old is Ja’far? I mean, I know he’s still a kid, kind of, I mean who can still be a kid after all the shit he’s been through, but what’s his age?”

“You’ve known him for nearly three years, and you never asked?”

“No, I haven’t. I didn’t want him getting upset with me thinking he’s cute especially because of his age.”

“Well, as of the day after tomorrow, he’ll be thirteen.”

Sinbad shot up from where he sat, the chair clattering to the ground, and his mouth fell open.

“He’ll be thirteen?! That means he was, like, ten when I met him!”

“Mhm. Ja’far was the youngest chief Sham Lash ever had, and one of the best.”

Sinbad paused, thinking to himself for a little bit. If Ja’far’s birthday was in two days, then they needed to celebrate. However, his thoughts were interrupted by the accountant.

“Don’t do it.”

“Do what?”

“Throw a party or something. It’ll just irritate him.”

“No way; He’s becoming a teenager! That’s the first step towards adulthood!”

“It’s not exactly a happy occasion Sinbad. Remember what Sham Lash has kids do at five? Yeah, that happened on his birthday. Don’t push it.”

“Then I’ll just have to make happier memories to help him forget about that. He’s been pretty miserable lately, and more irritable. So, Vittel, what does Ja’far like?”

There was a pause, a sigh, and Vittel began to talk.

“He likes you.”

“I know that, but I mean gifts.”

“Well… He has a bit of a sweet tooth if that’s what you’re asking.”

“But I wanna get him something more than sweets… Plus, Rurumu will kill me if I give him too much.”

“You know him better than I do here, man.”

“C’mon, help me out here.” Sinbad pleaded, looking down on his luck.

“Sorry, but I don’t think he wants anything. Just give him a good day to remember.” Vittel shrugged as he spoke, turning back to the papers, and returning to work, “Why don’t you ask Mahad? Or Rurumu? I know she’s got something for him already, and Mahad is in charge of our gift to him.”

“What about Mystras? And why are you guys giving him stuff if it’s not a happy occasion?”

“One, I don’t think he even knows Ja’far has a birthday. Two, he doesn’t take care of himself, much less get the stuff he needs to keep from getting extremely sunburnt, so we usually do that for him.”

“Fair enough…. Wait. That means the rest of them had known before I did!” Sinbad stood, the childish pout on his face evident.

“Yes, because Mahad and I watched Ja’far grow up, and Rurumu asked.”

“Fine. I’ll just have to find something for him myself!”

The younger Parthevian rushed out of the room to try and think of something for Ja’far. After all, he did so much for the company, the least he deserves is an excellent birthday present.

And, inevitably, he ran into Mystras in his rush.

“Woah, Sinbad, what’s the hurry? Someone die?” Asked the knight, staring curiously at his master.

“It’s almost Ja’far’s birthday! Mystras, we gotta do something huge for him!” Sinbad panted out, grinning like a child. This, in and of itself, was a brand-new adventure for him. The adventure of figuring out how to make Ja’far happy on his birthday without pissing him off.

“Ja’far has a birthday?”

“Yes, Ja’far has a birthday.”

And as such, the panic and rushing to think of something began.

Ja’far knew something was off as soon as Sinbad stopped pestering him about taking a vacation to Balbadd to see King Rashid. Or, when he stopped bothering him about letting him go out drinking. Or bringing Masrur to the red-light district. And when he stopped going to the red-light district.

Then again, maybe Sinbad was finally maturing.

Nope. Impossible.

But things had been weird since yesterday; Everyone, no matter who he asked, was always busy. Busier than normal.

“We haven’t had an increase in business… So why is everyone so busy?” He asked himself, looking downward and huffing to himself. He hated being out of the loop.

His shoes clicked on the stone floor, a soft rhythm of his footsteps of which he soon lost himself. He couldn’t quite think right; his mind was too confused because of Sinbad not doing what he had always done; Whatever he wanted.

While lost in thought, he bumped into the very person for whom he was searching.

“Sin! There you—“

“Oh, hey Ja’far. I don’t have time to talk right now, sorry. Why don’t you go play with Kikiriku?”

Ja’far didn’t even get a chance to respond before Sinbad ran off with a wave and a “Bye! Talk to you at dinner, okay? Love ya, Ja’far! Gotta go!”

Well. That was strange. The last time Ja’far had seen Sinbad too busy to talk was right after the Maader incident when they had to fix everything and get Sinbad back into the swing of things around there. But even then, the dungeon capturer rarely turned down an opportunity to slack off.

So, he decided to follow his master to find out what was going on.

Except, before he could, Rurumu appeared behind him.

“Ja’far?” She spoke, voice gentle as ever.

“Yes?” Ja’far responded, turning to face the giant woman. She looked troubled, her umber eyes half closed.

“I need you to watch your siblings today. I’m sorry, I know you’re busy, but Hinahoho and I are both unable to look after them for the rest of the day because we need to check the quality of the incoming goods from Imuchak.”

“Can Pipirika do it?” Asked the child, putting his weight on his right and placed a hand on his hip.

“No, she’s covering for Mystras and Vittel.”

“Why aren’t they doing their jobs?” He started tapping his foot, irritated. Mystras was almost as bad as Sinbad when it came to slacking off, and Vittel had a perpetually annoying ability to mess things up.

“Lord Sinbad has requested their presence throughout the day.”

A deep-seated anger rose from within Ja’far, an annoyance he felt all too often though was prone to more during the heat.

His left eye twitched as he spoke his next words through gritted teeth.

“What?”

“I don’t understand it myself, but I must go, Hinahoho is waiting for me. The children are currently down for a nap, and when they wake up, they’ll likely be hungry. I love you Ja’far, thank you for watching them.” Said the mother, kneeling down and kissed her son on the forehead before walking off gracefully.

The child huffed, face tinted pink as the anger ebbed away.

Something was up, and he needed to find out what, but that could wait until after the children had been taken care of.

Sinbad, Vittel, Mahad, and Mystras didn’t attend dinner that night.

So it was only the Imuchakk family, the children they rescued from Maader, and Parsine. And that made it awkward without the icebreaker that is their master. Which, in turn, angered Ja’far significantly.

He stomped out of the living quarters, determined to find Sinbad if it killed him.

Though, he didn’t have to go far. Because in the middle of the shop—Which had closed about an hour ago, and otherwise abandoned until morning—stood Sinbad and the others which were absent from dinner.

“Is everything ready for tomorrow?” Sinbad asked, and Ja’far noticed that the man’s hair was messed up more so than usual, as is he’d been working extra hard today.

“Yeah Sinbad, everything’s ready. Now all that’s left is getting—“ Mystras was cut off by Vittel covering the knight’s mouth, and pointing towards where the little pre-teen stood.

They all turned towards him with different expressions. Mystras looked almost as if he were caught with his hand in the cookie jar, Vittel seemed worried, Mahad was the same as ever, but Sinbad… Sinbad looked almost squeamish, but with that underlying confidence, he always had.

“Oh, hey Ja’far. What’re you doing here? I told you I’d meet you at dinner.” Said the teenager, walking over to his friend.

“Dinner just ended, dumbass.” Huffed Ja’far, deadpan.

“It did? Man, I’m sorry. I’ll talk with you when you go to bed, okay?” Sinbad smiled, a bit awkwardly, chuckling.

Ja’far was silent.

“Are you that mad at me?”

No response.

“C’mon, Ja’far. I didn’t mean to miss dinner.”

The boy turned around and still gave no response while he exited, but before he left, he stopped.

“Sin, I’m not upset that you missed dinner; I'm angry that you won’t tell me why… I thought you trusted me…” And with that, he ran off to his room.

The silence left behind was louder than any amount of yelling.

A hand was placed on the dungeon capturer’s shoulder, and Mystras’s voice filled the empty room.

“He’ll come around, he always does. He’ll be upset, but you’ll be forgiven by morning.”

“I hope so, Mystras. It’d suck if he were too mad to enjoy his birthday tomorrow.”

Sin did end up coming by Ja’far’s room that night, but by then, the boy had long since fallen asleep.

So the elder of the two walked over to the bed, listening to Ja’far’s soft breathing, and kneeled down next to his bed.

“I’m sorry, Ja’far… I hope you’ll forgive me; I’m doing this for you, after all.” He leaned over and kissed the boy’s forehead, a small smile on his face. “Now, sleep well, and sweet dreams.” He whispered, pulling back. Taking a note out of his pocket, he left it on the nightstand, then left the room as silently as he could.

And, of course, Ja’far had been awake since he heard Sin walking towards the door to enter.

Sitting up, he began mumbling to himself.

“For me? What could he poss—“ He cut himself off, covering his mouth. No. No way. It couldn’t be… But, then again, Vittel and Rurumu had been ‘celebrating’ it for the last two years….

That doesn’t mean Sinbad should know about his birthday, though. After all, it wasn’t a day he was proud of. Sham lash twisted it, turned it into the mark of his first kill, and certainly not one he wanted to remember.

‘I’m different now… I’m not the same…’ He thought, the mental image of his parents lying dead on the ground flashing in his mind. The image twisted into Rurumu, her children, Vittel and Mahad, and everyone he had grown to care for in their place.

And then his mind changed them all into him. Into Sinbad. The man who rescued him, the one who would become king, the one who cared for him and wasted his time with a brat like him lying there bloodied and gasping for air, and those gold eyes once full of warmth fading into dull, emotionless death.

Tears welled in Ja’far’s eyes, which turned into crying, and then into uncontrollable, quiet sobbing.

When the white-haired ex-assassin awoke, he noticed the note on his nightstand.

“Hey, Ja’far! Happy birthday!

For your birthday, I’m sending you on a little trip. Figure out the clues left for you, go to that location, and collect the next clue as well as your gift. Oh, and before you leave, there should be food on that box at the foot of your bed.

Alright then! First location.

When we left Imuchakk, where did we go?”

Where did they go? They went to Reim. But, they were already in Reim, so it wouldn’t make sense for that to be the answer. Ja’far pondered for a minute, getting the food which indeed was at the foot of his bed, and attempted to come up with an answer.

‘We collected our things and left, and the next place we went was Reim, so what does he mean? We stopped once on the way to resupply the boat…’ He thought, munching on the cinnamon sugared treat he’d been left when it hit him.

The boat.

They didn’t just teleport to Reim, they went onto the ship and sailed there.

So Ja’far got up, got dressed, and headed out to the docks, looking for the Imuchakk boat they traveled on. Oddly enough, it seemed as if the living quarters were deserted; Not even the sound of his baby sisters was giggling ringing through the halls.

“Don’t worry about it, Ja’far. Just find Sinbad, and explain to him that today is not a good day, especially after the shi—Stunt he pulled yesterday.” He mumbled to himself, automatically stopping himself from swearing and flinching as if he were expecting a Rurumu chop. Which, of course, he was, but the now thirteen-year-old wouldn’t tell anyone that.

The heat of Reim was excruciating today. For the hottest season just ending, you’d expect it to be warm, but not so warm and intense that your skin would burn just by standing outside for a few minutes. However, such was the case when you have rotten luck.

And by the time he arrived at the boat, he could feel his skin crawling and turning red from the heat.

The ship was large, dark mahogany, with big sails patterned with the Imuchakk tribe symbols, but it was evident the boat hadn’t been used for some time. Barnacles and sea sludge coated the bottom, the sails frayed and ropes worn through, and Ja’far felt a bit remiss at the sight of it. True, they had a fleet of merchant ships, but this was where their journey truly began and what carried them to new countries.

The ex-assassin spotted something odd once he’d boarded, the wood creaking under his feet. Up by the crow’s nest, embedded into the mast, was a bag with a scroll attached.

‘I’ll assume for now that’s for me… How’d he even get it up there? Scratch that, I don’t want to know.’

So, he released his darts, threw them up there and watched as they wrapped around the mast, and jumped, the boat swaying under the force of it. The wind felt nice against his skin, and the relief from the heat was welcome if only for a moment before he landed safely in the crow’s nest, grabbing the bag and the scroll.

However, he stopped when it was in his hands. Right in front of him was the ocean, large and bluer than he remembered it to be. He hadn’t noticed it before, but with the soft rocking of the boat and the scent of the sea, he had begun to miss their traveling. Chasing after Sinbad, Rurumu’s lessons, turning a foul-mouthed brat into a respectable teenager, the birth of his little brother, Sinbad’s laughter and smile both of which had been vanishing more and more as of late, big dinners, storming seas…. He missed it all.

Now, everyone was so busy, they barely spent time together outside of travels, and Ja’far hadn’t even noticed it.

His chest felt tight as he opened the bag, seeing little stones inside and a small piece of paper.

“Hey, Ja’far, happy birthday!

Okay, so I didn’t know today was your birthday, so your gift was rushed, but hey, isn’t it the thought that counts? Do they say that here? Well, even if they don’t, I think you get what I mean.

So, there are some sharpening and polishing stones in here for you, for your weapons specifically, they won’t do anything if you try to use them on yourself.

Anyway, have a great birthday! See you later!

-Mystras.”

That red-haired idiot. Ja’far chuckled a bit, opening the scroll left outside of the bag.

“You figured it out! Good job Ja’far!

Okay, clue two: While you guys were away getting supplies, I was busy getting the funds to found Sindria Trading company. However, even after getting the funds and founding it, I still did those plays. Where did I perform?

P.S. Keep the bag, you’ll need it.”

Ja’far stood corrected, Sinbad was more of an idiot than Mystras.

Sin did plays at the Colosseum. Everyone knew that.

And with that thought, Ja’far climbed down from the crow’s nest and started to leave. But, before he got very far, he rushed back, touched the bow and whispered two words.

“Thank you…”

Then, on hurried feet, he ran off towards the Colosseum, only to be faced with a small problem.

The sun had risen about an hour ago, and now the markets were in full swing, with people bustling about. Why was this a problem? Simple, the freckled teen stood out like a sore thumb, and people knew who he was now because of Sinbad.

To the roofs it is, he decided and continued on his way.

Except, he missed one vital thing; A shock of violet hair near the jewelers.

Now, Ja’far was used to exerting himself, but he hadn’t expected to be short of breath after a run like that. Then again, he was used to running in the cool shadows, not the heat. He wasn’t used to sweat soaked clothes, and even if he lacked a scent at all times, it didn’t mean he was comfortable.

But seeing the Colosseum from the rooftops sure was a sight. Ja’far remembered when Sinbad fought Masrur in a similar arena to this one on Maader’s island, and how he’d been helpless to do anything. And as he walked into the arena, empty and lifeless, he could almost picture the play Sin had put on.

One man, one stage, two metal vessels, and one incredible journey to tell the world.

And where Sin would stand, on that stage, was placed another bag, and another scroll.

His feet clacked against the marble, and he opened the bag on the ground, choosing to stand as he did.

Inside, were two identical leather sheathes attached to a band which could clip and unclip around his arm.

“Happy birthday Ja’far! Mahad and I were having a hard time thinking about what to do for your birthday, and Masrur was talking about how he’s afraid to hug you because your knives might cut him, so we all pitched in and got some sheaths for them!

Vittel, Mahad, and MASUN”

Ja’far chuckled at the signing, as Masrur was still learning to write his name, and smiled as he attached the sheathes to his arms and slid his knives into them. It fit perfectly. The weight, while unfamiliar where it was, felt… comforting. Like a warmth spread from them and encompassed his entire body.

Though, that didn’t exactly help with the Reim sun.

“It’s late, so formalities are over from here on out. Where did you guys first meet King Rashid?”

Well, now Sinbad was merely getting lazy. They met him at the Trading company building, even if they never truly met him there, and didn’t know he was the king… And if that weren't the answer, the only other option would be in Balbadd.

So, packing things up, he left the Colosseum and set off for the company building.

At least, that was the plan. Until he saw a dark violet ponytail swish behind a building, and his household vessel glowed with proximity to its master.

Sinbad.

“Ah—Sin!!” Ja’far yelled and ran up to try and see where his master was going. However, when he arrived, Sinbad had turned another corner. And so, he followed. At the end of the turn, the dungeon capturer glanced back at his companion, grinned, and ran.

“Huh?” Ja’far mumbled to himself, giving chase to the older teen. Sinbad was fast but not as fast as Ja’far. The only reason he couldn’t catch him, he told himself, was because Sinbad knew the streets better and was good at being shifty.

“Shit... At this rate, he might actually catch me.” Mumbled Sinbad, trying to get away from the small boy. He ran through the market, jumping over carts that Ja’far slid under, and calling for people to move out of the way for their safety. However, instead of taking this as a threat, the people of Reim seemed to believe this was a form of entertainment.

Making a sharp turn towards his company, Sinbad cursed as the people began to cheer; some for Ja’far to catch him, others for Sinbad to get away.

‘Alright, time to take a page from Ja’far’s book…’ He thought to himself and jumped onto the ledge of the building before Ja’far could see him, lost his grip on Baal’s sword, and tumbled into the establishment. There were screams somewhere, but the only thing he could focus on was the angry glares of women clad in dancer's garb.

With an audible swallow and a small prayer to whatever god was listening, he realized where he had lead Ja’far.

The red light district.

Through the streets, the architecture, and the markets Ja’far chased Sin, only stopping when he lost sight of the man, and Ja’far couldn’t remember how he’d never seen this area of town before. It seemed to be on the higher end, yes, but even in broad daylight, he saw how beautiful it was. Reim, as a country, was known for elegance, and he had taken that for granted and forgot to take it in. However, he glanced around, saw a brothel, and walked away.

Of course, Sinbad would lead him there. Once a pervert, always a pervert.

He turned around and walked back to the trading company building, face bright red with something other than the heat.

The breeze had stirred up while he walked, and it cooled him slightly. Today was exciting, so far. An excellent turn of events in comparison to his previous birthdays.

At least the building had magical tools that cooled it down, Ja’far thought to himself when he entered. They were supposed to be closed for the day, so he was surprised to find that the main door was unlocked. And, if the teen was honest, the feeling of moving from the sun into the shade was one of the best feelings he’d experienced.

When the door closed with a slam, it took a minute for his eyes to adjust, but when they did, he could walk around in the darkness without problems. And, right there in the middle of the room, on top of a table, was the bag which he had been searching for. His steps echoed in the large room, having no other noises to block it out.

‘When I first met Sin, I’d have barely made any noise here…’ He thought to himself, picking up the bag and opening it. Inside, there was two more notes and some creams for his skin. The pale boy took the creams out of the smaller bag and out down the larger bag he had been carrying, and opened the smaller of the two notes.

“Greetings Ja’far, I hope this message finds you in good health. I have noticed the Reim sun has been causing damage to your skin, and so I asked my queen for something so that your pretty skin might stay as pretty and undamaged as it is now. When Lord Sinbad introduced me to the idea that your birthday had been coming, I decided I would give you these creams as a birthday gift, and wish you all the best on this special day. May Artemyra continue to trade with this company, and may you reach your goal of becoming Lord Sinbad’s right-hand man.

Parsine Pratemyra.”

The formal tone of the Artemyran woman was reminiscent of how Ja’far himself wrote, and it was a comfort in some odd way. He applied some the cream to the skin which had been exposed to the sun, it’s cool and smooth texture calming irritated skin, even if it stung a bit.

‘This actually works well…’ Ja’far thought, emerald eyes shutting as he sighed, the darkness around him comforting and cooling. He had been born into shadows, and it was only natural that he was more comfortable in the cold blackness than the warm sun. But, he loved being outside as well.

Because Sinbad shone as brightly as that sun, with eyes as deep as the sea when it glittered gold in the sunrise, and as long as that man was out in the sunlight, Ja’far would be there right beside him.

He sat there and thought to himself a while longer before venturing back into the sunlight. Ja’far looked at the other slip of paper he had, reading it over as he walked to the door.

“Memories are funny, aren’t they? Even if they hurt us, or make us want to forget them, they’re still there. Sometimes, even if they remind us of our negligence towards our siblings.”

Ja’far didn’t finish reading it, crumpling it in his hand angrily. He exited the building, making a note to remind Sinbad to lock it later, and going to the forest with a huff. Sinbad knew that he regretted it, even if he did activate his household vessel, and he would for the rest of his life.

With any luck, this day would end soon, and he would be able to ask Sinbad never to do this again and forget about it so they can both move on with his life. He didn’t want to remember it, he didn’t need these presents, even if the ointment was extremely appreciated, and he didn’t want to give Sinbad another reason to skip work.

But… The sentiment had been nice, he thought to himself as the stone roads turned to dirt, and maybe it wasn’t so bad…

He glanced up from the ground he had been staring at and saw Vittel and Mahad waiting for him at the entryway to the forest.

“What are you guys doing here?” Ja’far asked, looking up at the two large men.

“We’re here to give you your next location, and your gift! Happy birthday, Ja’far!” Said Vittel with a smile, handing Ja’far a very light bag.

“I already got the gift from you guys, though…”

“Oh, this is from your family. Don’t open it now, wait until you see them to open it, okay?”

Ja’far complied and put the smaller bag inside of the larger, and looked up at the two ex-assassins expectantly.

“Ahem, here’s your clue. All roads lead to home.” Said Vittel, putting his arms behind his back and speaking dramatically.

“All roads lead to home? But… My home is with Sin.”

“Exactly,” Vittel ruffled his hair affectionately, “So, where is Sinbad likely to be right now? Remember, it’s just past midday.”

“He’s probably in the living building since it’s around lunch time…”

“Then why are you still here? We’ll catch up with you, okay? Go on, go home.”

Ja’far nodded and waved goodbye to the older two, running back towards where he had started his day.

“Hey, Mahad?” Asked Vittel, once Ja’far was out of earshot.

“Hmm?”

“Do you think Ja’far has realized it yet? He still seems confused about why Sinbad did this.”

“Dunno…”

“Ah, whatever, it doesn’t matter. C’mon, we gotta go. Can’t be late for the party, now can we?”

Vittel laughed, and Mahad made an odd sort of noise as they followed Ja’far.

‘Almost there, almost there…’ Ja’far thought to himself, rounding a corner and coming face to face with the living quarters building. If you didn’t know the difference, it almost looked like a hotel without a sign. Just as magnificent, yet somewhat dull to difference it from the buildings around.

The ex-assassin walked up to the door, took a deep breath, hoped he wouldn’t regret what he was about to see.

And he opened the large double doors, to darkness. Stepping in carefully, he closed the door behind him as he glanced around. Listening, there was heavy breathing from at least five—No, seven, three adults, two children, two teenagers.

Suddenly, there was a blue glow amongst the darkness, and from that blue light, small bolts of blue lightning shot out and lit the torches, illuminating the room. There were tables with food covering them, little notes and cakes. And in the middle of it, there stood Sinbad in all his magnificence, Baal’s sword held high above his head with sparks encasing it. Next to him was Rurumu and Hinahoho, little Kikiriku standing next to Masrur, then Parsine and Mystras.

“Happy birthday Ja’far!” They cheered.

Ja’far’s face flushed, bright red hiding his freckles.

“Thank you…” He murmured, looking down at the floor. How much trouble did they go through for him?

“Did you enjoy your trip down memory lane, Ja’far?” Asked Sinbad, waving the smaller boy over to take the seat next to his. Ja’far walked over, sat down and placed the bag down next to him as the others took their seats.

“It would have been better if I didn’t have to chase you through the streets only to end up in the red-light district, Sin.” Ja’far huffed, to which there were chuckles from around him.

“Sorry about that; I was picking up your gift, and I couldn’t let you catch me,” Sinbad said with a mirthful grin.

“That reminds me… Rurumu, Hinahoho, why did you want me to open your gift to me here?”

“We wanted to see your face, Ja’far.” Responded Rurumu, looking gently down at the boy.

Ja’far pulled the small bag out of his bag and set it on the table. Gently undoing the ties, he pulled out a box. Little, Maplewood likely, and it was extremely light. Everyone stared at him as he opened the box, and tears began to brim his eyes and made choked noises.

An Imuchakk headband. A mark of family, of unity, and love.

“I-I can’t accept this… Rurumu, Hinahoho, I—“

“Ja’far, you are as much our family as Kikiriku, Pipikuni, and Totoyura are.” Said Hinahoho, smiling widely.

“But—I scarred you…”

“So? I’m sure I’ll get more, traveling with Sinbad.”

“Hey!” Sinbad interjected but was ignored.

“Are you sure you want me to have this…?”

Hinahoho and Rurumu both nodded, and Ja’far was having a harder time keeping himself from crying.

“Thank you…”

“Alright, time for my gift, Ja’far!” Said Sinbad, smiling, “Close your eyes, okay?”

Ja’far sniffled a bit, wiped the tears that were threatening to fall, and closed his eyes.

A cold weight was put on his head, and it started slipping down over his face. There were chuckles from all around him, and a hand moved it back on top of his head, only for it to slide down.

“Sinbad, it’s too big!” Laughed Mystras, and Sin cursed.

“Ahh, you’re right! Sorry, I had to guess the size, and I do want it to fit you when you’re a little bigger…”

“Sin, can I open my eyes now?” Asked Ja’far, curious to see what exactly they were talking about.

“Sure, but it's not really what I wanted it to be.”

Ja’far opened his eyes and glanced down at his neck, barely able to see something red hanging there. Gingerly he lifted it up, and saw a teardrop shaped ruby pendant, strung onto a golden thread-like chain that glistened softly.

“Do you like it?” Asked Sinbad, looking at his friend with slight worry in his eyes.

“Yes, but what is it?”

“It’s supposed to be a headdress, but it seems a bit bigger than I had intended. Well, at least we match now!”

“Huh??”

“Look at it, and tell me if it reminds you of anything.”

Ja’far stared intently at the item and blocked out the small talk from around him so he could focus. It looked oddly like a simpler version of…

“Valefor?”

“Mhm! That’s where you became my first follower, and it’s where I saved you. You may be a member of Baal’s household, but Valefor is closer to us. And, it’s a headdress because they symbolize knowledge, and you’ve learned so much and come so far since I met you… But I guess that’ll have to wait until you’re a little bigger.”

Even if Ja’far wiped his tears or tried to keep them from falling, it would have been futile. Those tears wouldn’t stop falling, small hands clutching the pendant around his neck.

“And you’re probably curious about why I sent you on that particular route. Well, you went all over Narpolia, didn’t you? Took courses you wouldn’t have otherwise and saw new streets. I want to show you more new streets, from all different countries,” Sinbad got up and kneeled down, looking up at Ja’far, “So, for another three years, or for forever, let me show you the world and make sweeter memories together?”

Ja’far nodded, on the verge of happy sobbing. Sinbad smiled and embraced the younger boy, soothing hands rubbing the smaller back.

This birthday, Ja’far decided, he didn’t hate.

#Sinja #Magibb #I had fun with this #tw: nightmare death #I think that counts as a tw #My writing #Memories

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