At Lord Stygian's command, the servants rushed to the bedside, attending to Luciana with urgency. Meanwhile, Jafar hurriedly escorted the elderly physician into the room, the old man struggling to keep pace with him.
"You're still full of energy, boy," the physician wheezed, trying to catch his breath.
"This isn't the time for reminiscing, old man," Jafar cut him off sharply, glancing over at Lord Stygian. The towering figure grabbed the physician by the collar and thrust him toward the bed where Luciana lay, surrounded by concerned maids.
The physician quickly made his way through the crowd, his face growing pale as he examined her condition. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he muttered, "Her body isn't responding well to the treatment."
Stygian's gaze darkened. "Elaborate."
"My lord, the incense you used was too strong. It's reacted adversely to her system. The treatment that should have healed her is instead causing harm," the physician explained, dabbing his sweat with a handkerchief.
"Can it be undone?" Jafar interjected, his usual calm giving way to concern.
The physician nodded slowly. "It can be healed with a rare herb known as 'Fiend's Dawn.' It acts as an antidote to almost all afflictions—except death."
"Where can we find this herb?" Jafar pressed, worry creeping into his voice.
The physician hesitated, his hands trembling. "It's no easy task to acquire it, my lord. I suggest asking for aid from the imperial family."
Stygian's patience thinned. "I asked where, not for suggestions," he growled, eyes narrowing. "Or would you prefer to answer to my axe instead?"
Terrified, the old man stammered, "I-it grows beyond the Veil of Night, at the border of the seven hills, my lord."
Jafar's face darkened. "The border near the human territory?"
The physician retrieved a small crystal ball, which conjured the image of a lavender flower resembling a tulip, its stamens glowing a faint blue. "This is what it looks like, but retrieving it from such a dangerous area…"
Jafar sighed, knowing full well the challenge ahead. "Is there no other way?"
The physician shook his head grimly. "Without it, she won't survive the night."
"Let's go," Stygian ordered, scratching his head irritably. "Jafar, you're coming with me."
Jafar's eyes widened in disbelief. "Me? You want me to come?"
"Who else?" Stygian replied, already donning his mask again. He grabbed Jafar by the collar and dragged him out of the fortress, their destination clear.
They flew swiftly over the barren mountains of the northwest, the landscape growing more treacherous as they neared the border. The air grew colder, the moonlight faintly illuminating the frozen lake below as they crossed the misty Forest of Thorns.
"You thought I didn't know about the fake princess?" Stygian's voice broke the silence.
"So you're aware of her identity?" Jafar asked, not surprised.
"A poor soul, like us," Jafar sighed, his eyes fixed on the mist-shrouded horizon. "She looks like someone who sacrificed everything for her family's honor."
"Enough about her. We're nearing the border," Stygian said, steering the conversation away. He bit his lip, the bitter taste of his past lingering.
They landed at the foot of the mountain, a treacherous area lined with poisonous thorns. Jafar scanned the environment. "The old man said the herb grows on a cliff above the cave, surrounded by thorns. We'll have to tread carefully."
"This is getting troublesome," Stygian muttered, unsheathing his axe and removing his gloves.
Jafar's eyes flicked upward. "Master, look!" he shouted as several monstrous creatures emerged from the darkness, flying toward them.
"Prepare yourself," Stygian commanded, signaling Jafar to fire his arrows. Jafar's arrows ignited with black fire, their deadly flames drawn from the depths of hell.
"You owe me three months' vacation for making me use forbidden magic," Jafar grumbled, loosing the flaming arrows.
Stygian smirked. "Did you really think I'd grant that request?" He swung his axe with devastating force, obliterating the fiends with blows strong enough to shake the surrounding hills.
"It's your power I'm using. Might as well make it useful," Stygian quipped as he continued to cut down the oncoming monsters, one after another. Jafar, meanwhile, fought with fierce precision, clearly relishing the battle.
As they neared the massive cave that housed the fiends, Stygian grinned, blood staining the blade of his axe. "There's more of them in there."
He stepped forward, eager to finish the fight, but Jafar stopped him.
"My lord, I hate to interrupt your fun, but we have a mission to complete," Jafar reminded him, his voice steady. "The princess is running out of time."
Stygian paused, his expression hardening. "If I don't deal with them now, they'll come after us in greater numbers."
"Then let me handle it," Jafar offered. He notched three arrows, igniting them with his magic. "I'll keep them at bay while you retrieve the herb."
Stygian gave him a nod and took flight toward the cliff, his black wings barely visible in the dim light. As he ascended, Jafar called out, "Master, your wings…!"
"They were injured in the fight," Stygian replied, glancing at his fading wings.
Jafar frowned, concern etched on his face. "Not now of all times…"
Stygian's eyes sharpened. "I'll hurry before I lose the strength to fly." With a burst of speed, he vanished into the darkness, leaving Jafar to fend off the remaining fiends.
Watching his master fly off, Jafar couldn't help but mutter to himself, "Master, if only you'd stop wasting time on battles and settle down with a family of your own…"