Title: To See a World in a Grain of Sand

Author: Isabella Night

Status: Incomplete

Genre: Romance/Action/Adventure

Word Count: 2,452

Rating: M

Disclaimer: Aladdin and all respective characters are not mine. They all belong to Disney, and I promise to return them once I've finished playing with them.

Summary: In the face of an enemy who would destroy them all, Aladdin and his friends must turn to their sworn enemy to save the Seven Deserts. (Summary subject to revision)

Date Completed: 14/11/10

PROLOGUE

SAND IN THE HOURGLASS

-~X~-

The hollow cavern was dark, and moist. The small flickering lamps that lined the walls did little to stave off the darkness or the frigid chill that permeated the air. They flickered weakly, dying slowly. The prisoners lay chained against the walls, row after row of men with thick iron shackles, dirty, thin and poorly cared for.

There were children, and young women amidst the masses, huddled together where they had been secluded from their families and loved ones by heavy iron bars. Their bonds were looser, less constricting and they appeared better fed.

Their purpose, after all, lay in a task which required their physical appearance to be somewhat maintained.

All watched with heavy hearts as their only source of comfort within their confinement began to retreat and die. The lamps, hung just out of their reach, slowly burned away the last of their oil and wick. There was a shuddering breath shared by all as they anticipated the darkness to come. In this place of nightmares and horror, it was not the darkness they feared, but what lay in wait at the edges of the shadows.

A child whimpered and tried to bury himself closer into his mother's embrace. She held the child, but not tightly, her fear of the monstrosities just beyond the safety of the light a hundred times more powerful than her love for the child she had never wanted, the child her imprisonment had forced upon her. She would throw the boy to the darkness if it would spare her own life for a few moments longer and feel no regret. In this place there was no room for anything but self-preservation.

Suddenly the lamps burst into furious infernos, roaring brightly and casting their light throughout the cavern, illuminating the space and reflecting off the cold sand beneath their feet. The prisoners groaned pitifully and covered their eyes, too accustomed to the darkness of their prison to adjust to this terrible brightness so quickly.

Something shrieked in the distant shadows, like an angry jackal, and the roar of its displeasure rang through the chamber, making the blood freeze within the vein.

"How much longer?" A voice hissed from the darkness.

The child turned his head in his mother's embrace, his curiosity outweighing his fear. The rest were older, wiser, they knew better than to risk stealing a glance for fear of the consequences. Their captors were not known for their mercy.

He was fortunate. Two men emerged from the shadows, each focusing intently on the round dais in the centre of the room, ignoring the captives altogether. More torches burst to light as they approached; ignoring the angry howls in the distance though it made the captives shake with fear.

"How long must we continue this torturous inaction? I detest hiding in this way, like a weak, little coward." The first of the two men spoke, taller than his companion by inches, his voice a lash in the silence.

"Calm yourself," the second spoke with only mild irritation, too used to his companions outbursts for them to affect him so quickly, and ushered for them to take a seat. "There is still much to be done, more to prepare. We shall not emerge until the time is right. Mistakes cannot be afforded or our deception will have been for nothing." Chairs appeared from the sands, elegant, comfortable and completely out of place with the atmosphere of the dungeon though neither man seemed to take notice. The shorter man sat, his body completely concealed beneath the long, rich cloak and hood which hid his face, his companion in similar dress.

The taller one refused to sit quietly and began to pace angrily around the platform, muttering curses. He approached a young boy, one who was too close to his path and kicking his sides viciously. The other sat quietly, patiently allowing the tantrum to pass – the old man was simply impossible to reason with when he was this irate.

The man finally stopped his attack breathing heavily, his aging body protesting the use of such force and he cursed his dwindling mortality. He spat at the body at his feet and turned away without seeing the newly formed glassy expression in the boy's eyes, blood still leaking from the mouth of the corpse, and sat down.

"The Seven Deserts could have been trembling at our feet years ago!" He snarled, his mouth twisting into an ugly sneer. "Yet you cowards insist upon this retched self-imposed exile, and for what purpose?" He continued without seeing the narrowed eyes of his companion. "Because of the ramblings of a foolish seer? The promises of a petty enchantress and a half-dead necromancer?" He stood again, knocking the chair to the floor where it faded into the sands. "I should have seen the idiocy of this endeavor years ago, and left you all to the mercy of the sands!"

"Enough." The younger man warned; his voice sharp and tight, with the hiss of a viper beneath his controlled tone. The old man stilled completely for a moment before slowly lowering himself back into his reformed seat, eyes downcast.

"You would do well to keep such traitorous thoughts silent, brother!" The younger man continued harshly. "There are more in our circle who would slay you for such views than you care to recall."

Once again the older man said nothing, but clenched his fists tightly beneath the sleeves of his robe. The unkempt nails bit into the wrinkled skin and drew blood.

The young man continued. "We will wait. The seer has never misled us before-"

"We have never seen it necessary to trust the seer before." The old man muttered bitterly. "I dislike relying on such an ambiguous prophecy. It could be a diversion, or some sort of trick."

"Unlikely. Seer's are forbidden to lie."

"No, but they can deceive."

"Enough, brother." The younger man stood from his chair. "Your opinion on this matters nothing. The Order has made their decision and we will not act until we are prepared. We are still too unaware of how the Seven Kingdoms have advanced or what may await us upon our return."

The elder scoffed, "The Seven Deserts have been without real magical potential since the fall of the sand witches. And any magic which remains is of no concern to us." A cruel simile spread across his weathered face, "If you insist on relying on the strength of the Order, you should try not to contradict yourself at every turn, brother."

He was unmoved. "It was not only the Seven Deserts of which I spoke, Mahir."

There was a moment of silence before the old man began to laugh. The prisoners shrank back against the prison walls and children huddled against their mother's breasts in fear.

"You mean … the Land of the Black Sands?" The laughter grew louder and more terrifying. "That place has been a mere speck on the desert sands since Destane fell."

"At the hands of his apprentice," a sharp reminder, "we cannot afford to underestimate that boy."

"Destane was an old fool blinded by his own ambition to realize the danger within his own household." Mahir dismissed it off with a callous movement of his shoulders. "I will admit, the boy was talented, and no fool to be sure, brother. But he's just that: a boy. Easily dealt with; I am not, after all, as foolish as Destane."

The young man gave a cold glare. "You would do well to speak of our lost brother with more respect. He was of the most powerful of our breed in his youth and nearly succeeded in conquering the Seven Deserts on the strength his own power."

"Yes, and then he was transformed into a useless servant at the hands of a boy three times his junior!"

"And it was exactly that manner of thinking," the young man sneered, "that cost Jafar his life at the hands of a street-rat."

When the silence descended again it carried with it a heavy feeling of tension. The captives scarce drew breath as both men remained in revered stillness, remembering the fall of the great sorcerer. His serpentine emblem still carried great weight in the order, long after his demise, as a reminder to all of the man who had come within the reach of ultimate power. No other had come so far in the entire history of the Brotherhood, and he was revered even in defeat.

"We know nothing for certain, Kader." The elder spoke carefully, aware of the delicate tension which surrounded this topic like a fog. "It may be that our sources were… misled."

"There was no mistake. A street-rat now resides in the palace, championed as the hero of Agrabah," a pause, "and engaged to their princess."

Mahir cursed. "Disgusting. Such pollution of the bloodline should never have been allowed, even for the mere common-royalty."

Kader nodded his agreement. "Never the less it works to our advantage. The Sultan is old and soft, and the street-rat is seen as so capable that little is being done in the way of defense for the kingdom. It will be easily concurred when the time comes." When Mahir said nothing his companion sighed. "Will nothing satisfy you, brother? We shall move soon enough, have patience. The Deserts will be ours in a matter of months if all goes well."

The old man shook his head. "It is not our plans which concern me at the moment but the street-rat."

"Just moments ago you dismissed him as you would a flea!" Kader shouted, his irritation igniting the lamps around him; they roared and sputtered boiling oil onto the prisoners below. They began to shriek and convulse in agony, drowning out all other sounds in the cave until the young sorcerer opened the sands at their feet and drowned them beneath the element with a wave of his hand. The remaining captives shifted closer, desperate for more space near the light, ignoring the slight sensation of hands clawing for the surface beneath them. It slowed and finally stopped altogether.

Kader breathed deeply to cool his temper, such lapses in control were unacceptable, especially with their goals so close at hand. Calm at last, he gestured over the sand dais before them, the element dancing gently at the motion and lifted into the air as a temperate storm. The specks shone in the dim light before the image of a young boy appeared in the air. He was handsome with dark hair and a bright smile, walking arm in arm with a beautiful woman and laughing happily as they strolled through the palace guardians.

"You see, Mahir," the sorcerer smiled, "he is only one man; nothing to concern ourselves with in the long run. He is only mortal, despite his fortunate encounter with Jafar, and mortality is so terribly precarious." He gestured again and the sands fell back to the dais in a harmless shower.

The old man frowned. "Yet he was still fortunate enough to best one of our most powerful, twice. We should watch this one, Kader, or risk loosing everything we have worked for, and I shall be extremely unhappy if this retched existence you have forced me through all these years came to nothing."

Kader frowned at the subtle threat but did not comment on it. "If we are to follow through with the Seer's prediction," Mahir continued, "than I am sure you and the rest of the order have discovered the location of the necessary objects, hmm?"

Kader smiled wickedly, "Of course, brother." The sands stirred again, this time faster and more violently, and revealed a glittering palace with golden domes and bright flags flying. "The first lies, ironically, within the very home of our troublesome street-rat, guarded by the Sultan's family for generations." The image vanished. "I myself have been charged with retrieving the item from Agrabah's stronghold."

"And how, pray tell dear brother, are you to retrieve it when our Order continues to remain secreted beneath the sands?"

Kader grinned venomously, "I'm sure I can find a way to make myself… discrete." He pulled a knife from beneath his robes with a flourish; the handle studded with rubies and the blade viciously curved, and cut a line across his palm. He let the blood flow until it pooled in his palm and dripped onto the sand of the dais staining it a red-brown. "I give you my word, Mahir. I shall have what we seek before the next phase of the moon, and then we, my brother, shall work towards our own goals, together. The Seven Deserts will crumble at our feet."

The old man grinned and clasped his palm against the wound, feeling the blood stain his skin and seal the vow completely.

"Just see to it that you don't disappoint me."

-~X~-

Sadira shot awake, sitting up fast enough to make her vision swim as she fought to gulp in precious air. Her heart pounded brutally against her ribs and her stomach tightened, making her feel sick – she fought the urge to vomit, retaining enough sense of reality to know that if she was sick here, by her bed, she'd never clean it out in time to stop the sands from absorbing the smell.

She shivered beneath the warmth of her blankets as the waking world began to settle around her. Her eyes, aided by the quiet glow of the lamp by her bedside, quickly took in her small living space, dark hazel eyes frantically following the flickering shadows hoping – yet also fearing – to discover something within the shadows. Her home was well beneath the surface of Agrabah and let in little sound and blocked out all light, and at the moment the silence was deafening and the darkness threatened to devour her alive.

She fumbled with the lamp until it cast its light throughout the entirety of the chamber, reassuring her beyond a doubt, that she was alone and secure within her home. Sadira frowned at her own childish fears but could not bring herself to dim the light again, or stop the furious beating of her heart.

She had never had a dream that was as vivid and coherent as this one, yet it seemed to slip away as she fought to recall the details, like sand through her fingers. It hadn't seemed like a dream at all.

Still fighting to steady her breathing, Sadira lay down and drew the blankets tighter against her body. She spent the rest of the night staring at the edge of the shadows just beyond her bed, imagining a pair of snakish eyes glowing blood red in the black sands.

Isabella's Ramblings

Because, yes, you really needed to know.

Wow, first story up in forever, but I'm so glad I finally have SOMETHING up after such a long hiatus. I'm going to try and update regularly from now on. At least once a week if my schedule allows (if university doesn't try to kill me again).

This is a bit of a new genre for me, but you can all thank Cantare for her beautifully done fic "Antiphony" for getting me into this (and writing) once again.

I'll update as soon as possible. As always, constructive criticism is welcome and all flames will be used to roast marshmellows.

More reviews mean a more creative writer. Until next time. ^_^