Draped in eternal night lay the infamous city of the dead.
The dry, earthly sound of the black sand being gently blown across the landscape was interrupted momentarily by the front door of the Citadel bursting open, revealing a man draped in brown peasantry robes with most of his face hidden away by a hood and a khaki scarf over his mouth. It was what he normally wore nowdays whenever he had to occasionally leave the dark land.
"Xerxes coming too!" Came the scratchy voice of the flying eel, twirling himself playfully around his master's head. Mozenrath grumbled, grabbing the creature's tail and giving it a hard yank away from him. "Xerxes NOT coming too."
The eel caught himself in midair, shooting the sorcerer a look of annoyance. "Why not?!"
"Because" Mozenrath began in an impatient tone, "Because maybe a common peasant doesn't keep close company with flying serpentine creatures. Ever notice that?"
Xerxes' eyes rolled back in thought, wearing a rather funny expression of confusion. Mozenrath gave an annoyed sigh and walked off, leaving the eel to its thoughts. He didn't want to be bothered with stupid questions right now.
For the past two years, the sorcerer had been digging around the desert cities for another outlet to magical powers. When he had promptly refused to leave earth after his powers had exceeded their limits on his body, his magic began to drastically dwindle until it was almost completely gone. There was nothing powerful about his gauntlet anymore. There were only the broken pieces of magic that had failed to leave his body with the more powerful spells he could previously conjure. He could still teleport and make things float in the air, but doing either proved to be a bit painful.
So once again, he was off to find curios, magic charms, or whatever kind of gadgets or potions that could feed power back into his body again without having it eaten away like his right arm.
With a cool swish, he vanished.
He reappeared in an alleyway of a city he now didn't want much to do with, groaning at the burning feeling in his forehead, a regular side-effect of his use of power now. It only lasted about 15 seconds before he felt the pain drift slowly away. He gave an impatient sigh, quite sick of that always happening.
For certain reasons from past events, he didn't like visiting the tan city of Agrabah. Certain reasons mostly involving a young man by the name of "Aladdin." However, it was the closest city to his, which meant less energy spent traveling. If he teleported to a city much farther, he probably would've become violently ill instead of receiving a minor headache. He knew this little fact well, because he had been visiting those cities.
Aladdin had become Sultan. He and the new Sultana, Jasmine, would be soon expecting a newborn heir. The tan city had flourished under Aladdin's rule and had seemed much cleaner than before. Still, the downtown area remained a hotspot for thieves and scammers.
The young man huffed, walking down the dusty, crowded street, people pushing impatiently past him as they did whatever it was that happened in this godforsaken city. He gritted his teeth, trying to hold back his anger until he was at least somewhere where he wouldn't get caught. Just then, he stopped in front of a shop marked "Curio." He raised an unphased eyebrow. Probably none of the stuff in there was really magic but hey, it wouldn't hurt to look.
The shop wasn't very fancy. It seemed to only be lined with wooden shelves filled with little trinkets and charms. There were even a few statues of saintly figures. Nice idea for a toy store. Pathetic excuse for magic. Mozenrath made a low groan in disgust. He walked up to the short turban-wearing cashier, giving a slight cough to get his attention.
"Can I help you?" Came the cheerful reply of the shopkeeper, whirling around to greet the new customer.
Mozenrath gave a slight nod. "Don't you have anything else besides…" His eyes darted to a basket full of shrunken skulls, "eh… this stuff?"
"Are you sure none of this fits your liking."
The wizard sighed. "Yes."
The shopkeeper thought for a moment, crossing his arms and looking casually over his shoulder. After about a minute, he turned back to the taller man. "Quite possibly. But unless you can persuade me to show you, I'm afraid I-"
Mozenrath took out a small sack and dangled it in front of the shopkeeper. "20 gold pieces."
The old man's eyebrows shot up. "I believe I have just the thing." The little man disappeared into the back of the shop, returning two minutes later, holding a small, black oil lamp.
"Now before you say anything" The shopkeeper said, seeing the unimpressed look in his customer's eyes, "This is no ordinary lamp." He held it up to Mozenrath. "You see, after a rather, eh, paranormal event a few years ago, I found this half-buried in the ground right outside the palace. Now I can't be sure, but I believe it holds a sort of dangerous power. It twitched and jumped in my hands when I picked it up. I didn't know what to do with it, so I brought it back here." He bit his lower lip. "Haven't touched it again 'til now."
Mozenrath took it carefully out of the man's hands. His eyes widened. It certainly held something. He could feel vibrations of whatever it was contained in there peck gently at his fingertips. A small smile formed under the cowl. Dangerous power, eh? Perfect.
He walked gallantly out of the shop, throwing the sack of gold in the man's face as he did so. The shopkeeper scrambled to get a hold of it, dropping it, spilling the gold and picking up the pieces hastily in a clumsy fashion.
Mozenrath crept carefully to a dark corner of the street, ducking out of sight. He held the lamp close, his sixth sense picking up on the magical vibes it gave off. He smirked. "This should be interesting." And vanished once again.
Having dressed back into his normal attire, Mozenrath sat cross-legged at a table where he was watching the lamp with burning curiosity. Xerxes sniffed at it, wondering why his master had gone all the way to another city to buy a mere oil lamp.
"So…" Mozenrath mused to the black lamp, "What kind of magic lies inside, hmm?" He shook the lamp a little but heard no sound of physical contents slipping around inside. He tried to pry the lid off the top of it but found it was stuck tight. His brows furrowed in puzzlement. "Well…" He stroked his fingers across it curiously. "Perhaps I should've asked a little more before I-"
Suddenly, without warning, the lamp began to shake violently. Mozenrath's eyes went wide with surprise. "…what the?!"
He got up and backed away slowly, the lamp on the table shaking more and more violently. Xerxes hid behind his master, slipping himself under the cape.
"Mozenrath, what happening?!"
Mozenrath's upper lip twitched. "I… I don't…"
Then a large cloud of smoke shot out of the lamp's nozzle in a quick blast, covering the entire room in red. Mozenrath lost his balance and fell, which got his eel friend only more agitated. He shielded the two of them with his cape, not knowing what on earth to expect.
After about a minute, the smoke finally began to clear. Mozenrath removed the cape cautiously, only to find his eyes traveling up into those of a taller figure, holding a staff shaped like a snake. The remaining smoke still swirled around the mysterious person a little, making the details of it unclear.
"Who…" Mozenrath gritted his teeth, "Who ARE YOU?!!"
"Yeah! Who you be?!" Xerxes chimed in, making an angry face.
The figure above them raised an eyebrow. "You don't know?"
"ADDRESS YOURSELF!!" Mozenrath shouted.
The figure smirked. "I'm the genie of the lamp." He crouched down, looking directly at Mozenrath with a pair of hypnotic-looking eyes. "But you may call me Jafar."