This is a little something that popped into my head and refused to leave until I wrote it down. (Damn those plotbunnies and their incessant whining) Sorry for all those who are waiting for a new chapter for Two of a Kind, we are still working on it and it will eventually be there so please don't give up on us. Anyhow, now I just needed to get this out of my system and submitted.

I do not own Kingdom Hearts, Aladdin or anything related! (except for 2 Organisation XIII paperchilds) This version of 'Rudol', Nadim, Aisha and miscellaneous I like to think were born of my brain.

...

Dice rattled, cards were shuffled by sure hands and dealt and losers' groans mixed with the quiet exclamations of joy from the victors. The air itself seemed to be alive in this underground temple dedicated to Lady Luck.

A man sitting at a polished stone table tapped the top of an ornate hourglass.

"Nadim, your time is running short. Maybe you would like to fold?" His tone was cultured and he had the barest hint of a smile on his unreadable poker face.

The other man, Nadim, glanced nervously from his cards to the pile of gold on the table and then to the sand running low in the hourglass. He had three fours but it shouldn't be enough to beat Luck's favourite godchild. But if he'd miraculously win... but if he lost he'd have to beg on the streets of steal his food for the next month. As the last grain of sand teetered on the brink of falling, time almost slowing, Nadim put down his cards, folding like the other man, Rudol, had suggested.

Rudol put down his own hand, reaching out to see what cards his opponent had held, and chuckled.

"Nadim, my friend, you really have the worst set of nerves I have come across. Not to mention luck. I only held a pair of Aces."

"Agh!" Nadim threw his hands in the air. "Iblis(1) take you, Rudol! Curse you and your mind games!"

Rudol just gathered the cards and began shuffling, skilfully cascading the cards from one hand to another. "Care for another round, this time to the end?"

The darker man shook his head. "You've already wrung me dry. I'm done with you." He stood up and headed through the dim low room towards the ladder at the other end.

Rudol shuffled his cards, mentally thanking Lady Fortuna for watching over him this day too. His trained gaze scanned the people gathered in this gambling cellar but he found no one who looked like a promising opponent. Should he play Solitaire? No, in this place it would be laughable and besides, what could he bet against himself?

One of the better dressed customers had spotted Rudol's empty table and was weaving his way toward it. Rudol stifled a grimace. The man, no, boy, was obviously barely old enough to be taken half seriously in places like this, rich enough to be let in, and the worst kind of loser possible.

"Rudol!" A hushed woman's voice called from the hatch leading up to the outer city's most respectable taverns. Rudol stood, recognising the alarmed tone in Aisha's call. He noted the disappointed look on the young man's face and smirked to himself. It seemed like his luck was truly running strong today. Respectful nods and muttered blessings and curses followed his way through the room and up the ladder.

Light and heat of the Arabian day forced Rudol to squint as he emerged from the cellar room. He could see the air ripple outside on the sun-baked streets. Inside the tavern hall, though, stood what seemed to be the source of Aisha's concern. Three city guards, fingering the hilts of their scimitars and scaring the customers. The gambler glanced at Aisha, who had half-hidden her small frame behind the counter, and strolled over to the men, dusting his loose white silk pants and checking that his wide blue sash was in order. With the guards, appearance was everything.

"Gentlemen." Rudol greeted the peace-breakers with a smile. "Would you like to join me for a drink in the back room? It seems you are causing some unrest among our precious customers." He led the biggest, toughest looking man (a sure sign of a squad leader) politely by the arm, making sure the two others followed suit.

"Aisha, a bottle of Arak(2), if you please, and iced water." He called back to the now defiant-looking woman emerging from her hiding place at the counter before disappearing from the common room with the guards. Aisha quickly prepared the requested drinks, shaking her head amusedly at the admiring comments the customers were making about Rudol.

In a small back room Rudol asked his 'guests' to sit, and as soon as Aisha delivered the bottle and tiny glasses, poured for them.

"So, may I inquire what brings you to out humble tavern at this time? I believe we had a sound agreement with captain Ramiz concerning your presence before closing hours."

The largest man snorted a laugh and gulped down his Arak mixture. Rudol very nearly grimaced at the thought of how the liquid would burn the man's throat, and at the horrible waste of fine liquor.

"Ramiz's toast. Wiped out. I'm the new big shot in these parts." The man grinned, showing off a set of horribly mistreated teeth. "Name's Kedar, and ye'll better remember it."

Rudol silently prayed that Ramiz would have peace in death. The man had been extorting tribute but still, Rudol had considered him a friend of sorts. The captain had had a keen eye and a steady hand with dice, not to mention that he had always lost quite a significant part of the extorted money back to Rudol while playing. The gambler stroked his lone earring absent-mindedly, going over possible strategies to deal with this vulgar replacement to his deceased friend. The burly man poured himself yet another cup of Arak with just a touch of water, while Rudol's glass with its milky white contents was nearly untouched.

"Very well, captain Kedar." The gambler looked up to the now slightly drunk man's eyes, twirling a set of ivory dice between his fingers. "What is your game?"

"I ain't here to play games!" Kedar's fist made contact with the polished table, and Rudol winced inwardly. That was a valuable antique... "Ye're gonna give me half of yer monthly income an' we'll see that nothin' bad happens to this place."

Rudol was, for once, speechless. Half of their income? The man was clearly insane. Did he want to bring 'Akhir Waha '(3) to ruin?

"I'd prefer it if we could come to an agreement on a set sum to be paid at a certain interval. It would be more controllable, wouldn't you agree?" He suggested.

"Say what?"

Rudol sighed. These simpletons... "It would be easier to pay the same amount of money each month." Was that simple enough?

"That's what I said, idiot! Half of it, ev'ry month!"

The gambler was really in no mood to try and explain the financial nuances of running a tavern to these retards. He settled to taking a sip of his drink and noting the huge decline in the amount of Arak still in the bottle. Looking at the man in front of him, Rudol deducted that wriggling out of this mess would be no easy task. The man could obviously take his liquor.

"I'm afraid what you ask is way too much. The business eats away almost as much money as it brings us, I'm afraid." Rudol noticed the skinniest of the three eyeing his clothing suspiciously, and summoned a sheepish grin on his face. "Ah, these? Completely out of my own purse, I'm afraid. I tend to make some money every now and then and an unmarried man needs to look sharp to have any hopes of gaining admiration."

"Un-married?" Kedar looked thoughtful and for a moment Rudol cursed his tongue for slipping. He'd drunk the rest of his glass too quickly. "Ye mean that doll behind the counter's not yer wife?"

Rudol sighed inwardly. He wasn't sure he liked where the discussion was heading. "She is not. However, she is my... how should I put it..."

"Bitch?"

"No." See, this was just the problem with people. They assumed. "She is my sahib, my companion, if you will. We are not married, in fact, we are completely unrelated and yet for all practical purposes I act as her guardian."

Rudol thought for a moment, hearing once again dice rattling in his head. Some would call it just the ticking of his brain at work but he'd felt it often enough to know something good was coming up in his mind. Then it struck. Judging by the faint signs on captain Kedar's face, and the situation he was in, the gambler came up with a perfect plan. All he had to do was sacrifice a bottle. A really good and valuable bottle. Oh well, the end result would make up for it.

"Say, captain. You look like someone who can appreciate fine liquor." Well, lying had always been one of his fortes. "But I wonder... are you a playing kind of man?"

"Never against ye, git! I know ye're the trickiest bastard in the desert!" The burly man's voice was only slightly slurred despite the bottle of Arak being nearly empty. Rudol leant back in his chair and took a careful sip of his second glass.

"Then, I would like to propose a game in which I can do nothing at all to affect the outcome. Everything will be left up to you. How does it sound?"

"...what kinda game?"

Now they were talking. Rudol took a tiny bell out of his pocket and rang it. Just a few seconds later Aisha came in.

"Aisha, would you bring that bottle of Arak we have on the upmost shelf? I have a reason to believe captain Kedar here would surely enjoy it."

The woman lifted an eyebrow at Rudol but recognised the look on his face and quickly left with a spring in her step and a smirk gracing her features. While she was gone to fetch the special bottle, Rudol took out his cards and dealt five of them on the table. Noticing the guards tense, he smirked, picked the four aces and a joker up and arranged to a fan in his hands.

"You saw the cards I hold." He held out the fan towards Kedar, card faces hidden from the big man. "Choose one. Just one, mind, as it will signify the amount of time that will be your opponent."

Hesitantly the man took a card and turned it over, revealing the leering face of a djinn. The joker, huh. Go figure, just what Rudol had hoped the man to pick. He reached into another pocket, this time pulling out his most precious belongings: a set of five hourglasses, all different sizes and filled with black sand. The only thing Rudol had of his father sans his natural accent and light complexion. He separated the second smallest from the rest and set it carefully on the table, empty half up.

"Whuzzat?" Kedar sounded very suspicious.

"Your opponent, the joker. Rather disappointing, seeing I had hoped you'd pull the ace of spades. Now I cannot foresee the result of our coming bet." More lies to weave the net, all the better to lure big money and safe living in.

"Bet?"

Perhaps it was time to finally explain the rules. As Aisha brought the clear and innocent-looking bottle, Rudol thanked her and sat again, setting the liquor gently on the table.

Kedar looked around, looking puzzled and annoyed. "No glasses?"

"No. We need none. I would, though, like to make a bet. What do you say?"

"Ye're bettin' that booze?"

"Oh, no. I was just thinking, this being quite exceptionally good a liquor, and you clearly being a man of the world, that you might know the exquisite feeling of having one's stomach nearly instantly filled with raw best-quality Arak."

Obviously Kedar had no idea what Rudol was talking about which was all and good since he was making it all up. However, the tipsy guard captain had no intention to seem dumb in the eyes of a possible source of good money, so he nodded.

"'t's been long since last time tho'."

"I can imagine that, what with the difficulty of getting ones hand on this particular brand of Arak." Ha, he really and honestly fell for it. Just like a kid to the sand pit. "So, would you be interested in repeating the experience with a little bet involved? Say, you, being a confident and sturdy kind of gentleman, will obviously bet on yourself, while I..." Rudol pretended to consider for a moment. "I'll place my bet on the sands."

As the guards glared suspiciously at his hourglass, the gambler turned it over to demonstrate the amount of time he'd be placing his bet on. The two guardsmen with their faith in their leader seemed confident about the bet.

"When the hourglass is turned I will merely sit here, unable to affect the final result in any way. Whether the bottle is empty first, and you win, or the sands run out, leading to my victory, will be completely left up to you. So, what do you say, captain Kedar?" Rudol pressed the tips of his fingers together, looking levelly at the man sitting across.

"What'll ya bet then?" Kedar asked.

"I was thinking that perhaps it would be profitable for both of us should the winner have the authority to dictate most of the contents of the tribute agreement."

"Wait... what?"

A quiet sigh. "If you win, you set the terms of payment but if I win, it's going to be on my terms."

"Sure, why not. Gimme that bottle!" A smelly, ugly grin appeared on the captain's face as he snatched the Arak and pulled the stopper off. "Come on squirt, turn that fancy time-counter!"

…

"Ye killed him!" The scrawny, rat-like guardsman exclaimed.

"Rest assured, he's merely unconscious. Too much alcohol, I fear. He'll wake up tomorrow with the worst hangover in history, but he'll survive." Rudol took great care with pressing the captain's personal seal onto a written document he'd prepared quickly after the man passed out. "There, all done. Thank you for your cooperation."

"What... what kinda deal is it?" The larger of the two conscious city guards asked, obviously dreading the moment someone had to tell their captain he'd lost. Rudol gave him a smile.

"Do not worry, it merely states that Akhir Waha will provide a large room, accessible from the side alley, as a second common room reserved only for guardsmen. In exchange for providing you with a regular place to spend your free time, we have to pay no tribute money at all. And of course, the prices set for your kind will be slightly lower than what civilians need to pay." There. It went better than he'd dared to think.

…

Rudol was standing in front of the Akhir Waha, lounging against the door frame and nodding greetings to passers-by. It was funny how life worked, just like a grand game. Ever since he'd opened the second common room people had began calling him 'poor Rudol' and saying things like "he must be stressed, those guardsmen forcing him to serve them" and "what a brave man, if only I was twenty years younger..."

Something caught the gambler's eye, darting to the crowd and causing havoc wherever it headed. Rather, it seemed to be a someone, dressed poorly and running from a group of city guards.

It seemed the guards had lost their target for a moment, as he had manoeuvred around a camel and slowed to a walk. As the runaway strolled past Rudol, the gambler grasped the young man's arm and spun him inside.

"Show these to the woman at the counter, she'll hide you." He hissed and shoved his ivory dice to the runaway's hand. The boy nodded and headed quickly inside only a few moments before the guards reached Rudol.

"Welcome, gentlemen. However, I am forced to remind you that you have a private entrance from the side." He greeted, recognising captain Kedar immediately.

"Rudol! That street rat came this way, did'ye hide him?"

"No! Why in the world would I do such a thing? For all I know you could call off out agreement for such a trespass. I am no fool." The gambler pretended to think a while. "Then again... street rat, you said? Dark skin, dark hair, dark eyes, looking exactly like everyone else out there, dressed poorly and carrying a stolen basket filled with stolen food?"

The guards nodded, almost in unison. Somehow it looked so laughable. Rudol pointed towards the impeccable maze of alleyways that mostly made up this part of Agrabah. "I believe someone matching that description escaped that way."

The guards leaving, the gambler stood guard for a while to not attract any suspicion, then went inside and apologisedto Aisha for startling her with the runaway thief.

"No matter. I sent him down, hope he's not getting eaten alive." The small but tough woman flashed a brilliant smile as Rudol opened the hatch and climbed down the ladder.

He was greeted with a peculiar sight. The escapee was sitting comfortably on Rudol's private table, money and valuables stacked around him, playing with the ivory dice with one hand. The rest of the people in the room were quiet, seething at the young man. It seemed he had a wide stroke of luck.

"Ah, it seems I was right in taking you under my wing, young man." Rudol walked up to the smirking runaway and held out his hand. "Aladdin, the luckiest street rat in Agrabah, I presume? You rarely frequent these parts of town."

The young man took the hand and shook it, honest and firm. "That's me. But who are you?"

"No one important." The gambler dismissed the question with a wave of his hand. "How about a game?"

…

"Shall I deal another round?"

"No way." Aladdin laughed. "We've been playing for hours and I already lost everything I won from these guys. I'm definitely not betting the food."

"Fair enough." Rudol put the cards and the special hourglass away, and stood to lead the street rat out through a safe route. At the door he held out his hand again and spoke with respect. "When you have something worth betting again, drop by. It was a pleasure to play against you, Aladdin."

The young man took the hand but shook his head. "I'm gonna think twice before playing against you again, now that I finally figured who you are. I might be the luckiest street rat around, but they say Rudol from the Waha is the luckiest of all people in Agrabah, and only fools try to beat him."

With a knowing smirk, Aladdin disappeared to the dizzying maze of alleyways that made up his home turf.

…

The bustling of the great bazaar was at its highest, a pandemonium of sounds, sights, smells and people. Rudol wove his way through the thick sea of people with the air of an expert, looking for a challenge, anything at all. Life had gotten so easy, too easy in fact. Aisha's tavern was bustling, she'd even hired some people as waitresses. The gambler, on the other hand, had a stable reputation as the luckiest man in the desert, and so only got to play when some fool decided to try their luck and ability against him.

To put it simply, he was dead bored.

Rudol sat on the edge of the west area well, idly following the hustle and bustle of the market with his eyes, noting the pattern of a couple of pickpockets and guessing it wouldn't be even a minute before the two got into a fight. It was so obvious he'd easily bet on it.

The two pickpockets soon met, trying to steal from the same plump man. Under Rudol's idle observation they started to bicker and... joined forces? That was unexpected. The gambler frowned, not seeing much merit in the thieves' actions. What was more unsettling was that he'd actually guessed wrong... What on earth was going on?

He reached inside his shirt and carefully touched an amulet hanging from his neck: the "Joker" hourglass, without which he never stepped outside his bedroom nowadays. Turning it over, he could almost feel the sand beginning to fall, ticking away life one grain at a time. Rudol reached into his pocket and took out his much-seen deck of cards, shuffling it skilfully as ever. He then, without hesitation, snatched three cards from the deck, laying them face down next to himself.

"Putting up a show?" A merry voice sounded from next to the gambler, a coffee brown face shadowing the sun.

"Nadim." Rudol greeted. "I haven't seen you about in quite a while. Maybe you'd like to stop for a game or two?"

The man grinned. "No way. I'm well-off for a change and I'm not gonna change that now. Anyway, what's with the three cards?"

The gambler looked down to the three innocent pieces of cardboard thoughtfully, reaching out to the first one.

"Just a little something to see if the Sands of Life are running low in my hourglass any time soon." Flipping the card over, Rudol stared at it, lifting an eyebrow. The Nine of Spades? Quickly he turned the second card over, revealing the Eight of Spades. So, bad luck and danger? This didn't seem like his usual hand. The sand in the hourglass amulet was slowly trickling downward. Furrowing his brow, even for a moment forgetting the man beside him, he carefully, almost hesitantly, took the last card in his hands and flipped it over, blanching. The Ace of Spades.

"Hoy, Rudol? What do those cards mean, hey? You went all white!"

The gambler turned to his friend, the three cards fanned in his hand. "It seems Lady Luck had not yet utterly forsaken me, for you refused that game. It seems I would have lost it."

Nadim stared. "...what? No way, you're the luckiest man in the desert!"

Rudol just smiled bitterly and held up the cards, one at a time. First was the Nine of Spades.

"Bad luck."

The other man blinked, knowing that Rudol's cards never lied, but wanting to refuse the very notion of Lady Luck's favourite to be fated with bad luck of all things.

Rudol lifted the Eight of Spades. "Misfortune and danger."

Somehow, it seemed that time had slowed. The individual grains of sand falling in the hourglass were like a heartbeat, the dice rattling away inside Rudol's skull as he tried to figure out what everything meant and how this impending doom fit in the bigger picture. Slowly he held up the third card, the Ace, in front of his dumbstruck friend and announced its meaning.

"Death."

The last grain of sand fell.

There was a silence, even the overwhelming noise of the bazaar seemed somehow muted. It lasted only about four seconds and then suddenly it seemed like all hell broke loose.

A huge gust of wind passed over the city wall, rattling the merchants' stalls in the bazaar and throwing sand to the merchandise, forcing people to hold on to their possessions and stealing an abundance of clean clothes from clotheslines rigged between buildings.

"Sandstorm!" A shout came from a roof. "The biggest I've ever seen!"

The merchants hurried in gathering their wares, hoping to save them from what sand would be able to cross the city wall, and Rudol stood up, suddenly seeing how things were bound to happen. Where had the rattling of dice in his head disappeared to?

"You..." Nadim stared at the lighter-shaded man, eyes wide. "You can see the future with those cards of yours!"

Rudol pushed Nadim to the ground mere seconds before a snapped clothesline lashed through the air where the dark man had stood. It hit a fruit stall, slashing a melon clean in two.

In a moment the first gusts were gone, only the sand in the air reminding that more was to come.

"You'd better get to shelter, your wife must be worried." The gambler pointed out to his friend who just nodded as they stood back up. The boy who had announced the sandstorm was still on the roof, Rudol idly noted, wondering why the kid's posture seemed odd. Like he was frozen in shock over something.

"Ya weld elgahba...(4)" Despite being quiet the boy's voice carried through the market, and people looked up to see what he was swearing at. The gambler dusted off his pants, idly thinking white might not be the best colour after all. As he bowed to reach the top of his soft leather boots, the hourglass amulet flipped again, the sand starting to slowly move, counting down time. The boy on the roof started running towards the edge, aiming to jump over the alley separating two buildings, shouting all the way.

"Run! Run! They're coming! Monsters black as night!"

He jumped and, clearly for everyone in the bazaar to see, was plucked right of the air by a flying bat-like creature. People could only look in horror as the boy was hoisted high up in the air. Then a blood-curdling scream reverberated through the air as the creature dropped the boy outside the city wall, abruptly cut short.

Panic ensued.

The wind picked up, carrying sand and those black creatures over the walls to the city. People ran, abandoned belongings scattered on the streets. Rudol ran as well, concious of the sand ticking seconds away. He lost Nadim from sight, throwing a prayer that it meant the good-natured man had found refuge somewhere.

The gambler could only think of the cards he'd pulled for himself, and of his home, of the tavern and Aisha. Especially the Ace of Spades. The death might not mean himself, but someone close to him, and Akhir Waha was located only a few blocks away from the city wall.

Rudol finally reached the tavern, out of breath and looking more ragged than he had in years. He darted inside, catching Aisha by the arm. "Gather everyone you can and take refuge in the cellar! Hurry!"

"What? What's going on, Rudol? You look terrible!" Aisha smoothed the gamblers hair and vest, demanding answers.

"The city is under attack." Rudol realised the tavern was full, and every pair of eyes was fixed on him. "Black creatures, no larger than a child, but with the strength of a dozen men. And somehow they've brought along the most formidable sandstorm in living memory."

"What... did you do?" There it was, the question Rudol had been dreading. Aisha had a habit of relating everything odd to him, and this time even the gambler himself wasn't sure about his non-involvement in this. After all, his luck had suddenly left him and despite that he had opted to peek at his future...

"I..." Clenching his teeth under the scrutiny of a tavern full of people, he forced out the words, his gaze in the window, watching for the monsters. "I made a wrong guess and drew three Spades for the future." Hm, the hourglass had spun sideways, the pitter-patter of fine sand ceased for now.

There was a ringing silence, followed by the scrape of chairs on floor as the customers hurried either to the safety of the gambling cellar or home to check on their families. Aisha started barking orders, directing people and ordering the two waitresses to check outside for any people in need of shelter and to open the wine cellar for people as well.

Rudol noticed a shadow outside, raising its head from the flat ground and peering in with glowing yellow eyes. Cursing loudly, the gambler drew a pocket knife he'd never had to use before and darted out to catch the creature.

…

It had been hours, and Rudol had, in fact, confirmed that the shadow creatures could be killed, though with much difficulty. He himself had felled two of them, but sported a couple of broken ribs and some nasty bruises as a reminder to flee rather than fight. Not to mention that in a way his luck had again abandoned him. The gambler had caught and eventually killed the creature who had witnessed the evacuation of the tavern but by then all doors, windows and gateways had been shut and sealed, locking him out alone with the enemy.

Yet another of the black creatures spotted the gambler, and he sprinted to the opposite direction. What remained of the Outer City Guard and the Inner City Guard, perhaps even some of the Palace Guard, were assembling to drive away the invaders, that Rudol knew for a fact, it was a standard procedure in case of a raid. The question was would he be alive by then any more or would his game end here, hunted down in a sandstorm?

The gambler coughed, the sandy wind stinging on his skin and fraying his clothes almost as badly as the shadow monsters. He could hardly keep his eyes open at all and so didn't immediately notice that he'd arrived to the city main gate square. Quickly Rudol darted back to the alley he'd been traversing and peered to the plaza, shielding his eyes to the best of his ability.

The black things were everywhere, but they weren't all completely black. Some had all kinds of colours in addition to the black, and an odd symbol on them, like a deformed, chained heart. And one of them... it looked slightly like a city guard, but a hundred times meaner and twice as big. This didn't look too good.

Rudol observed the big monster for some time, as it reminded him of something, someone even. Captain Kedar had had that crazy look in his eye when he'd been hunting Aladdin down, and even some of the monster's movements seemed similar to the way the burly guard captain carried himself.

Rudol narrowed his eyes as he pondered his options. The sandstorm had quieted down finally but he couldn't say if this was only another pause or if the accursed weather anomaly would finally end. The gambler couldn't even trust in his intuition any more, as it lied heavily on leaving things to luck. Perhaps though... if he could just take that one big monster down the small ones might be confused with lack of leadership and scatter. That's how it often worked with chess and the like anyway.

Rudol weighed his pocket knife and a crude dagger he'd picked up along the way in his hand, reaching with the other to grab a tight hold of the small hourglass dangling from his neck. He calmed his mind and summoned a distant memory, a trick he'd learned long ago when his job had mainly been counting cards and signalling the opponent's hand to his employer. Slowly the gambler turned the hourglass around, squeezing it in his hand and convincing himself that he wasn't worth any attention, even less than the smallest of the black creatures.

And so Rudol started this gamble for his life, a dagger in his free hand, ready to attack the large monster but mind empty sans the mantra of him not being noteworthy. Surprisingly he made it to the middle of the square and only with a moments hesitation, during which all the monsters on the plaza stopped looking puzzled and fixed their glowing eyes on him, jumped and embedded the blade in the back of the big monster's neck.

Rudol was sent flying to the far wall and the collision alone was enough to break another rib and force him to cough up blood. Even worse, all the small monsters were scuffling to his direction. The gambler forced himself up. A thought flashed through his mind, of having stayed in his alleyway and not done anything idiotic like this. The again, he'd never been the kind to stay on the sidelines and not poke his nose in other people's business. The gambler wiped the blood off his face and ran his fingers over the rings in his ear to help him concentrate, one habit he was known of.

Eyes darted from the incoming wave of darkness and to the roofs and walls of surrounding buildings. It seemed that he really was trapped with his lung pierced and barely managing to stand. The Ace had been for himself after all. If he could just take down that boss monster, then he could be satisfied, having successfully intruded in the City Guard's business one last time.

Faint noises could be heard from the direction of the inner city. It seemed like the Guard had assembled and had begun to clean the streets of the monsters. Funny, there never seemed to be that many of them and yet they had caused such a panic...

Rudol glanced down to his hand and opened his fist to reveal the hourglass, now cracked, the sand inside stopped at two-thirds down.

The monsters were nearly upon him. What were they waiting for? Glancing up, the gambler spotted a wooden shack torn down from a roof by the winds, held up the wall only with one frayed rope. Refusing to go down like any common person, Rudol forsook his last weapon and threw his pocket knife, sharp as a razor, at the rope. He prayed with all his might for the last of his luck in this life to make it hit. And hit it did, fraying the rope more but doing nothing else.

And then the black creatures were on him. Rudol fought, using his bare hands and even his cards as weapons, throwing them so that they sliced into the monsters' black bodies.

The rope creaked as the large monster looked at Rudol, slowly clawing the dagger out of its neck.

Sharp agony slashed at the gambler's chest as black talons tore through his flesh and scraped against his damaged ribcage. More followed the first and his vision was getting blurry and dark, laced only with occasional flashes of pain.

A distant snap, followed by the sound of something heavy falling on someone large standing on pavement. Despite being opened in the middle and not being able to think of much beside the horrid pain, Rudol managed a chuckle in between his screams. No matter who or what you are, payback is always a bitch.

…

Aisha sat on the pavement, by a spot that was slightly darker than the rest of the gate square. In her hands she held a small hourglass, forever stuck with one third of the sand still in the upper half.

When the guards had brought her the hourglass she'd refused to believe them and she hadn't been the only one. Many of the customers had ran off here to see for themselves but the guards had wisely taken away the body before seeking her out. After all, the monster's tactic of killing had apparently been, without exception, digging out the heart.

The small woman looked up and winced. Two meters up there was a dent in the stone wall, about the shape and size of a man. It seemed that Rudol had survived the collision with the wall somehow and still fought for a while. From what Aisha had heard, the creatures had gotten confused and disorganised all of a sudden, and the only thing that popped to her mind was that the gambler had gone after the enemy king piece personally, and removed it.

Drip, drip.

Wet spots appeared on the sand and pavement covering the ground, flowing silently from Aisha's eyes. How could Rudol be gone? He had been like a big brother, always taking care of her. Not to mention that he was the luckiest man in the desert. And yet... no matter how much everyone wished and grieved, there was no denying that the day before, here in this square, Rudol of the Waha had played his last game.

…

The darkness was suffocating. It wrapped itself tightly around him, unrelenting and cold. His consciousness was fading, as if it would never return should he lose it now. Was this what it felt like to be dead? Slowly fading to darkness, lost and alone? He didn't want this!

A faint twinkle of light in the darkness. Fighting against the constricting blackness, he slowly managed to sit up. The light... it was shining from his hand. On his palm, agitating the darkness with its whiteness, was a single card with a jet-black design on it. It was familiar, the Ace of Spades.

That's right... he had died. He could still remember the shredding pain, the agony of having one's chest torn open. Yet he felt... more or less the same he had when alive. What was this? Had he still somehow survived?

The darkness pulled back, allowing him to stand up. A tiny window appeared in the blackness, revealing a somehow familiar landscape of sand and light-coloured buildings. What was that place again? Everything in his head was such a jumble...

He lifted up the card and the picture vanished. Odd... why couldn't he put his memories in order? Looking at the ace in his hand, he realised he should be frustrated and at least a bit scared too. Yet he felt nothing, like he was dreaming. He touched his chest, noting that he was clothed in nothing but the rags that were left of his pants, but not caring. His chest was smooth and unscarred, and yet he could clearly remember those shadow monsters tearing savagely into him with their razor-sharp talons. His head was slowly starting to hurt.

Lifting his hand to his head he noticed that his ears were, for some unfathomable reason, holding more piercings than he remembered having, and one earring had an unfamiliar form that he could not recognise. At some point his eyes too had gotten used enough to the darkness for him to realise that he was... light. His skin was so pale, as if the blackness constricting him had washed away his colour as it released him. It was all so confusing, and yet he was able to calmly analyse everything like a game he had a feeling he'd played a lot.

A portal of some sort, made of darkness but still seeming a shade lighter than its surroundings, appeared not too far from where he was. He tensed automatically, preparing for fight or flight at a moments notice. Yet, oddly, he wasn't afraid, no matter how his mind told him that he should be.

"You are confused." A man, dressed in a black coat with the hood pulled up, stepped out of the portal and walked towards him. Still wary but also curious, he stood his ground as the black-coated man approached.

"Do you want to understand?" The man asked. He found himself nodding once, to his surprise.

The man raised his hand, hidden in a black glove, and letters appeared in the air, floating. They formed a name, a very familiar name. RUDOL. Something clicked to place. That was who he had been, but how did that stranger know it?

"You feel nothing." The man spoke, startling him. How could that mysterious person know that he... Rudol, felt distanced from everything? He looked at the hooded person questioningly and got one answer as the man continued. "You can feel nothing."

So... somehow he was unable to feel anything? Why? He had died, and yet he was starting to doubt that this was afterlife. So, he had died, but he was also alive, though apparently incomplete... did that mean that he really wasn't 'Rudol' any more? What was he supposed to do?

"Do you want a meaning?"

He gave the man a suspecting look. Was he able to read minds or something? Then again, his options right now were extremely limited. Either go along with this game, or stay in the darkness, where he would slowly fade to nothing. He lifted up the playing card in his hand, looking at the mark of Spade on it, the one that had foretold his death. Looking back to the unknown man and closing the card in a tight fist, he nodded.

The hooded one moved his hand, and all the letters started moving, circling around the one-who-had-been-Rudol with a pace so fast they were but a bright blur. He then raised his hand and struck it in the air, making an 'X' appear and force the letters to stop and settle again to a line on both sides of it.

L U X O R D

The-one-who-had-been-Rudol looked at the formed word, feeling nothing but slight curiosity at the formality of it all. "...Luxord?" He asked, not expecting an answer but still receiving one.

"Yes. A new you."

...and the card fluttered, forsaken, to the non-existent ground.

...

(1) The name of the Devil in Islam

(2) A strong Middle-Eastern beverage

(3) "Last Oasis"

(4) "Son of a b*tch..."

.

Woah, this is long for a one-shot...

Thank you for reading and sorry if some parts seem confusing. Please let me know what you think by submitting a review. They make my world go 'round.