I set out the blanket and things, the lantern being set to the side. Both Morgin and I stand guard as the boy rests there. He's quiet and content, smiling up at us. It seems to make Morgin uncomfortable, but I think the boy is quite sweet. Morgin's silent, you can't even hear his breath as he stands like a statue. Our empty facial expressions match, but his eyes seem more serious and focused than mine. I'm feeling uneasy; I can feel my limbs shaking as I try to stay still. My eyes wander back towards the boy out of curiosity. Being with these two, even though there's a sense of duty keeping us quiet, I can't describe this feeling..
"Hi Miss! We meet again!" The Magi speaks up. My heart thuds in my chest. 'I knew it. He recognized me.' I have to ignore him though. I know we aren't supposed to talk. If I do, something might slip. I'm afraid of him: Jamil. Magi or what, he's just a child so there's no need for me to obey this boy.
I close my eyes, 'Deep breaths (y/n). In.. and out.' But there's a strange noise coming from behind me. I dare not turn. I open one (e/c) eye, staring in Morgin's direction. His eyes are closed as well, and it truly is as if he was made of stone. As if he wasn't there which, to be honest, hurt. He lets out a huff, interrupting my thoughts, before turning to face the boy. "Pfft.."
I turn to see the boy face me now, laying out with a hand on his hip and the other to rest under his face. His hair has been styled to imitate Jamil's as he let out, "Hohoho I am your Lord! Jamil! And I give you corn! Hohoho!" Morgin cups his face when a laugh escapes.
"You laughed!" The boy exclaims, jumping in Morgin's direction.
"I didn't!" The fanaris gasps out, suddenly frightened. Luckily, our Master isn't around.
"Yeah, you did!"
"No, I did not!" He practically screams. It's then I can't hold back anymore and burst into laughter. My throat feels course as I do so and my chest hurts. It really has been a long time since I laughed.
"Miss.. you're pretty when you laugh.." the boy comments. I blush. This child is kind. I guess it isn't something I'm used to. I know I definitely wasn't so as a child.
"His face is kinda different!" He then says pointing to Morgin. "Is that because he's from the Dark Continent? What kind of country is that anyway?" He tugs on my skirt, looking up at me with curious blue eyes.
"It's not a country," Morgin interrupts us. "They call it the Dark Continent because it's the unexplored area to the south of the southern provinces of the Lehm Empire. It's derogatory for my homeland of Katarg." I didn't know that. I hadn't heard Morgin talk much about himself, even less of home. But his voice is as emotionless as ever. "Just be quiet now." He seems bothered, even hurt. Had it been painful to process the idea of home? Of belonging? I guess it was always something I took for granted. Something I threw away.
"It's.. unexplored?" The boy's eyes seem to brighten up.
"No. It's not really unexplored. There are countries and villages. The land is vast with lots of animals and delicious fruit. And the sun.. is beautiful.." A smile lights up on his face as he recalls it. Passion filled words tumble from his lips before he pauses, coming back to reality, and then shuts up.
"That sounds nice! Your home sounds like a wonderful place!" I nod, but I don't want to interrupt his thoughts. I wonder if he can remember much of it. He was already a slave when Jamil bought me. Even I can't remember much of my home. "Wow! The world has lots of places I don't know!" I glance over at the boy, feeling my eyes droop in sorrow. Somewhere in the world.. people are happy, living carefree lives. But in others, they are suffering. "I wanna go there! Take me to the Dark Continent Mister! And you Miss, you can come with us!" I dig my nails into my arm, letting off a scowl as I furrow my brows.
"That's impossible," I spit out between clenched teeth.
I catch Morgin's dull eyes. "I can't," he replies bluntly. His words follow right after mine. Seems we're both thinking the same thing now.
"Why?" He asks. Isn't it obvious? Doesn't he already see these chains around our feet?
"Why?" Morgin hisses, "We can't run away, because we're slaves."
"Yes you can. Just break your chain like before!" The Magi exclaims as if it's so obvious. Maybe he doesn't understand. Or maybe, it isn't as obvious as we thought. "Then you can return home on your own two feet." 'But I can never return home,' I recall, 'Never.'
"It's not that easy. I can't flee Jamil just by breaking these chains." The two turn to face me as I find my voice here. "He's terrifying. I can never run."
"Huh? Yes you can."
"No," I'm getting frustrated. I glance at Morgin to help me out.
"Why not?"
"No, because.." seems he's lost too as he grapples for words.
"Because? Because what?"
'We just can't! Just stop!' I want to scream, but I can't. Not at him.
"Because those who are completely powerless just can't." Morgin whispers, but his tone makes him sound like he's yelling. He has to restrain himself from acting out. He's feeling just as frustrated as me. Hoping this will end things, we return to the emotionless routine. There's no point in dwelling on foolish thoughts.
There's silence, and just when we thought he had given up the boy speaks up, "I still think you can run. But I guess what you're saying is.. Lord Jamil has invisible chains around you." And they were so very strong. They weren't something that anyone, any power, could simply break. If only I could tell him how right he was.
"Don't act like you understand," Morgin spits out. "You don't make any sense. If you cross Lord Jamil you'll end up like your friend." Then I knew he had misspoken. We weren't supposed to say anything about that. I look at him, but it seems his irritation has made him forget. His actions show no regret, just a need for justice. But this is just his childish revenge. Or maybe, he felt pity for the boy. How should I know though? I'm not him. But I don't think this is the time to tell Aladdin.
"Huh? Do you mean.. Alibaba?"
I interrupt Morgin when I notice him going to reply. I want to tell him: I'm more calm right now. I can be gentle with the news. But death isn't ever gentle. Loss can't be overcome by sugarcoating. "That boy who was with you.. he.." I'm having difficulty feeling the words on my tongue. Like they're stuck in my throat and can't come out. "Jamil used him on a trap." I watch as his blue eyes widen and his bottom lip drops. Before it seemed he already knew the truth, though his reaction now was a mix of shock and denial.
"And your friend.. your friend.." I don't understand why the words are clogged in my lungs. Why my nose sniffles and eyes drip. My face feels tight as I furrow my brows and tighten my jaw. "He's dead!" I scream it out so I won't have to think about it anymore. It can escape, and maybe, just maybe, I'll feel alright. Because I want to see these feelings free so that they aren't as trapped as me. But something's off. The boy is strangely silent. He doesn't demand proof or try to contradict me. In fact, when I turn to face him again he seems unsure more than sad. 'Why is he being so quiet?'