"Go, Morgin!" Jamil shouts, "As my slave you are my strength! Show him how strong I am!" Morgin's attention is fully on Aladdin. He holds his usual fighting stance, and I know he's ready for this.
Goltas is still down, and Jamil is cheering his heart out by my side. I keep my mouth shut though. I watch in awe as Morgin digs his feet in the ground, quickly lifting one after the other as flies in the boy's direction.
"Magi, this is your fault." I look up at my master as he speaks, "You didn't recognize me. There's no way you can beat Morgin. This is the end for you, I will escape and make myself king." Morgin is a descendant of the fanaris, the strongest on the Dark Continent. To us there was no way he could lose. "Magi, unless you want to end up dead just come quietly and join me! I won't punish you for betraying me."
One blast from the boy though and Morgin flew backwards landing with a crash. Seems things didn't quite go as planned. I go to run to Morgin but quickly stop myself. The Lord won't like it, and I don't want him to hurt Morgin for my actions. Either way, I hope the boy's okay. Jamil isn't looking too hot, even though he wasn't the one just slammed into a pillar. "Sorry, Mister," Aladdin calls up to Morgin, "just stay there for a sec."
The boy approaches us. That same calm, yet disappointed expression painted on his face. Jamil has fallen to his knees as Aladdin takes his flute back. Turning away he heads back towards his injured friend. "Wait! This isn't right!" Jamil calls. I can hear him choking up, but he keeps a smile on his face. "You're going to make me a king, right?! I've been waiting for this day.. You don't know how hard I've worked! I'm the only one competent enough to be king! All the people I've used, laws I've laid down, and business deals I've cut! I turned Quishan into a thriving city! Aren't I great?! Yes, I'm amazing! Magnificent! So now.. you're going to make me king!"
The boy stops and turns our way. "I don't know what you mean. Why would I make you a king? To be honest, I don't think you're very great at all." Jamil falls to his knees, slamming his fists into the ground as he bows his head. His pride won't allow him to cry nor to beg.
I get down next to him, caressing his back. He's trembling. I faintly hear him ask me if he's great. If he's worthy to be a king. I reply with a simple 'yes'. Of course, I can't state my true opinion. But I'm not sure what I would say if I could. "That's right.." he starts to sit up, "You're the only incompetent one. All of you.. That's why none of you can truly recognize me!"