#sharrkan amun ra | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kumeko · 3 years ago

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A/N: For the @magizine ! I loved hearing Sinbad’s tales as a kid, so I’m glad to write this.

…

There was a difference between a world at peace and a peaceful world. When he was younger, Ja’far had thought those two terms were interchangeable. Now, after all the blood and tears, after realizing and losing his dreams, he knew better. The former was impossible—the world would never be free of strife.

The best they could aim for was to minimize those conflicts as much as possible. Walking through the market, Ja’far ignored the delicious scents and loud clamouring surrounding him and instead gazed up at the island-filled sky. It certainly helped that the countries were now broken into random bits, destroying borders and rearranging neighbourhoods. Nations couldn’t exist as they used to; it was hard to fight over resources and land when they were still figuring out the world’s map.

Unfortunately, as usual, that only meant headaches for him. Ja’far frowned. Paperwork, property disputes—everyone left them on his plate, as though he didn’t have enough to do. He rolled his stiff shoulders and sighed. If only Sinbad were here. With his charisma, everything would have been settled months ago.

He lowered his eyes. More than that, it was hard to enjoy everything when Sinbad was still missing. Even walking past the stalls, Ja’far could only think of the times when the citizens used to call his name, clamouring for his attention.

“Sinbad!”

Yeah, just like that—Ja’far froze. Sinbad? Immediately, he turned on his heel, scanning his surroundings for a familiar purple-haired king. Instead, he found several children jumping excitedly in front of a traveling bard.

Brushing her short black bangs out of her eyes, the bard smiled. “Oh, so you want to hear one of his tales, do you?”

Ja’far cracked a smile. It was reassuring to see that even after everything, there were still people who remembered and loved Sinbad. Feeling nostalgic, he joined the growing crowd and watched as the woman slowly slid her bow across her sitar.

Her husky voice filled the air as she started her tale. “Once, there was a man named Sinbad, a man like you and I. He was a sailor, a trader, a man who loved adventures and the unknown. After every adventure, he’d swear to never go on another one, that he had his fill of mysteries and near-death. And every time he’d break that promise, travelling to even more distant lands,”

Ja’far chuckled. It didn’t quite sound like Sinbad, but it was close enough. How many hands had this story passed through before it got here?

“On his first adventure, Sinbad’s ship stopped at an uninhabited island to gather food and water.” The woman’s fingers slid across her instrument and her audience was enthralled as she wove a story before their eyes. “Sinbad wasn’t interested in that. Instead, he explored the island, mapping it out as he waited. Nearby, his crewmates lit a fire.”

First adventure? Taken aback, he frowned. Had they ever called anything that?

“Before long, the earth shook,” the woman increased the tempo of her song, “and the birds flew out of the trees. Sinbad ran to his ship, but the earth rose beneath him, like a living, angry thing. Around him, other crewmates started to trip and fall, rolling down toward the ocean. He tumbled after them, unable to keep his balance. Falling into the water, he grabbed onto a floating crate, left behind as his ship raced away. What had happened? Sinbad turned back to the island and saw …”

The woman trailed off, lowering her voice. Everyone leaned forward to listen to her, even Ja’far.

Suddenly, she raised her voice, “A giant whale! As big as a country, it had been asleep for decades, only waking up thanks to their fires. Sinbad barely survived the creature’s wrath as it turned the once calm waters into whirlpools.”

Now Ja’far was certain he’d never heard any of this before. Once more, people were telling tall tales of his friend, as though his actual adventures weren’t enough.

“What happened next?” a kid asked, jumping up and down excitedly.

“Sinbad is a lucky one,” the bard continued. “Adrift at sea, he landed ashore at a rich man’s house. After saving his horse before it could drown, he was given gifts of gold and silver, treasures far beyond any a man could spend in a single day. And then he left again, once more to travel through these broken lands for adventure.”

“You make it sound like he’s still alive,” Ja’far commented bitterly, before he could stop himself.

“Well, he should be.” The woman smiled brightly. “He only told me these stories a few months ago. He’s still as handsome as ever.”

-x-

There were few things better than a good drink after a long day’s work. At least, that was what Masrur’s neighbours believed and he wasn’t inclined to correct them. They’d worked the land all week and he wasn’t going to waste his time off with a petty squabble.

Masrur lifted the ale, watching the light shine brightly through the golden liquid, before chugging it down. The rest of the generals had scattered with the winds after Sinbad’s disappearance and it was at times like these that he missed them acutely. Maybe he should go visit some of them later. For old time’s sake.

“Hey, Masrur!” His beefy neighbour Aram wrapped an arm around his shoulders and grinned. “Why so dour?”

“I’m not,” he replied bluntly.

“Forgot, you always look grumpy.” Aram chuckled, leaning closer. “I know what’ll make you smile—you’re a man of adventure, aren’t you?”

He shook his head. “I’m a farmer.”

“Fine.” Aram rolled his eyes. “But you were a man of adventure, right? Don’t deny it; no ordinary farmer has your reflexes. You hear about Sinbad?”

Masrur stared at his neighbour dryly, not sure if he actually wanted an answer or not. It was hard to tell with Aram sometimes. “Yes.”

“Oh, right, forgot.” Aram hit his head. “Why didn’t you tell me about his adventures?”

Now Masrur was certain that Aram was pulling his leg. “I did.”

“Well, yeah, but…” Aram frowned, scratching his chin. “You didn’t tell me the really cool ones. You know, like the one where he fought off those giant birds and snakes.”

“They are all cool—” Masrur paused, registering his friend’s last sentence. “What bird and snake?”

“You can’t be that drunk. You know, the one where Sinbad accidentally fell asleep on an island and you all left him behind?” Aram shook his head sadly. “Can’t believe you did that to him. And he had to wander around until he found a giant bird and rode it to another island, that was even worse than the first one!”

“I…that never happened,” Masrur corrected slowly.

“What, don’t want people to know that you guys abandoned him? It’s okay, I won’t think less of you.” Aram slapped Masrur’s back. “We all make mistakes. And you made Sinbad a really rich guy! I mean, that second island was full of diamonds and shit. Man, that’d be the life, living there…well, I guess if those snakes weren’t there…”

“Snakes?”

“You know, giant ones. The ones the giant birds eat. If it weren’t for some traders trying to get the diamonds, Sinbad would have been eaten.” Amar shuddered. “Terrifying, yeah? At least he got some money for his troubles.”

Masrur sighed, running a hand through his short hair. “That didn’t happen.”

“Oh, you going to deny his other adventures too?” Feeling challenged, Amar snorted and continued. This close, Masrur could feel the alcohol on his breath. The man was drunk. That explained a lot. “What about the one with the whale?”

-x-

Sharrkan liked lazing about. He liked flirting with Yamraiha more, but, well, she wasn’t around and it was a nice day, so he went with his second most favourite hobby. Hands clasped behind his head, he casually strolled through his adopted city, taking in the sights. The best thing about peace was that he didn’t have to run about anymore.

No, he could just take the easy road.

“Sharrkan!” A tall, black-haired woman, Jasmine, waved at him as he passed. Considering how often he went to her tavern, it would have been odder if she hadn’t recognized him. “Long time no see.”

“It’s been way too long,” he replied cheerfully, coming to a stop in front of her. “How’s things?”

“Without my favourite customer?” Jasmine grinned boyishly, poking him. “Since it’s been so long…does it mean you’ve finally tied the knot with Yamraiha?”

“What?” Instantly, he flushed. One day, he’d stop reacting like this, but that day wasn’t today. Shaking his head, he stuttered, “T-that’s…I-I…”

Jasmine sighed as she read him. “Not yet, huh? What’s it going to take, another ten years? Even Sinbad’s settled down before you.”

“It won’t take—” Sharrkan grabbed her shoulders. “Sinbad?”

“Easy there.” She gently tugged his hands off. “Yeah, Sinbad. Haven’t you heard?”

“No!!” After months of waiting for a sign, this was the way he found out? He was never missing another night at the tavern now. “Where is he?”

“Oh, dunno.” Jasmine shrugged, apologetic. “I’d say on a honeymoon, but he’s also a widow now…maybe he’s healing?”

“Widow? Married?” Shakarkan stared at her blankly, not understanding what she said in the least. “What’re you talking about?”

“Didn’t you know?” She rested a hand on her hip and cocked her head. “Sinbad got captured by cannibals a while back. He’s got some real bad luck there; he keeps getting captured or lost. Most of his crew got eaten.”

“CANNIBALS?” Feeling dizzy, he squatted on the dirt road, his hands hanging limply at his sides. “He escaped, right?”

Jasmine squeezed his shoulders. “Yeah, he did. Found another city and ended up marrying the richest girl in the place.”

“That…sounds like him.” Sharrkan chuckled, unable to deny it. Women had always fallen over themselves for Sinbad; of course that’d still happen now.

“Unfortunately, she died.” Jasmine wringed her hands, her shoulders sinking. “And the village there buries the spouses together, so he got tossed into a pit with her.”

Sharrkan fell over. “What—”

“Oh, but don’t worry, he escaped that too. Got some really nice jewels out of it too.” Jasmine grinned. “So like I said, maybe he’s mourning or something.”

He stared at her blithe response, not sure if she had been serious, or if this had been a tall tale to get him to visit her tavern again. Either way, it worked. He stood up and hooked his arm through hers. “I need a drink.”

-x-

There was one place Ja’far went to when he was having trouble figuring out what to do next. Luckily, despite the shifting lands, the graves of his fallen comrades remained untouched. After hearing so many stories about Sinbad, he needed something grounding while he sorted it all out.

And, if Sinbad truly was back, he might have left a message there. It was the only place tying him down, after all.

To his surprise, he wasn’t the only one who had that idea. The graveyard was willed with old friends, the rest of the generals finally gathering at last after months of separation. For a long moment, Ja’far stood there, taking them all in.

Yamuraiha noticed him first and grinned. “Did you hear it too?”

“That Sinbad’s back?” he asked cautiously, watching as their expressions lit up. So it was true then. “He’s had almost seven adventures without us.”

“Only for now,” Sharrkan grumbled, glaring at the nearby sea. “Can’t believe he didn’t tell us he’s back.”

“Seems like a thing he’d do,” Drakon replied flatly, crossing his arms.

“That’s…true…” Ja’far reluctantly agreed.

Masrur looked up from the paper he was reading. “He left a note here. Co-ordinates.”

“Co-ordinates?” Hinahoho grinned brightly, bouncing on his heels. “Looks like we’re going on an adventure again.”

Sharrkan snatched the paper and growled, “To kick his ass. He thought he could leave us like this?”

For once, Ja’far agreed.

Maybe Sinbad’s 8th adventure could be learning humility and apologizing to his friends. He smiled. It had a nice ring to it.

#magi #sinbad #ja'far #masrur #sharrkan amun ra #fanfic #i wanted to give more screen time to everyone #but then i hit the word count #the life of a writer

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