The desert heat had long since reached its boiling point when Helios, Jafar, and the single surviving guard trudged back toward Agrabah's gleaming gates. The city shimmered against the horizon, its golden domes and pale stone walls blurring into the waves of burning air.
Helios walked a few paces behind the others, his boots kicking up faint clouds of dust.
Jafar said nothing, but every stiff movement, every twitch of his fingers on his staff, broadcast his simmering fury. He was still brooding over the two guards lost. Still replaying every step in the cavern where Helios had outmaneuvered him without so much as raising his voice.
A perfect wound to his pride.
Helios almost smiled.
As they approached the outskirts of the city, where the great gates opened to the market-lined streets, Helios tapped the guard lightly on the shoulder.
The man flinched still jumpy from the horrors underground. After letting out a deep breath he turned around, confused, sweat running in rivulets down his face.
Helios offered a small, almost conspiratorial smile and handed him a folded piece of parchment.
"Give it to your master," Helios said, his voice low and calm. His tone left no room for refusal.
The guard hesitated, but something in Helios' gaze made him obey without question. He took the letter in trembling hands and then jogged forward, catching up to Jafar, and extended the note.
Jafar snatched the letter without a word. Breaking the seal impatiently e unfolded it roughly. His eyes skimmed the contents:
"I'll be taking my leave now.
Left you a little present in your lair.
It was fun. — Helios"
The letter crumpled instantly in Jafar's hands.
Jafar's eyes narrowed into slits. His teeth ground audibly as he crumpled the letter into a tight ball, letting the parchment fall into the sand.
He whirled around, scanning the path behind him — but Helios was already gone.
Not a trace of him remained.
No footprints breaking off into the dunes. No ripple of magic.
Just empty dunes and the far-off cries of circling vultures.
A moment earlier, Helios had stepped sideways into a swirling dark corridor.
When he emerged, he stood in the heart of Jafar's private lair — the forbidden wing built into the easternmost tower where the marble gave way to black stone and the air always smelled faintly of sulfur.
The room was dim, lit only by enchanted orbs hovering near the ceiling. Strange relics floated on invisible chains — bits of shattered mirrors, scorched scrolls, urns cracked open like eggshells.
There, sitting atop the cracked obsidian desk like a forgotten trinket, was the other half of the scarab — the fragment Jafar had left behind when they first ventured out.
Helios walked toward it, his boots silent on the stone. He stood before the scarab, studying it for a long moment.
He could combine the two pieces now. He could force the Cave of Wonders to reveal itself.
But patience was a virtue he valued far more than power.
He tucked the second piece into his inventory pouch, feeling the twin pulses of magic shiver against one another but not quite merge.
Not yet.
Too soon.
He had more important matters to attend to.
Helios opened another dark corridor and stepped through, arriving in Soraya's royal chambers.
The room was quiet when Helios emerged from the corridor crack.
Sunlight streamed through gauzy curtains, casting long gold-and-cream stripes across the polished stone floor. Ornate furniture — velvet divans, silk cushions — lay scattered across the wide chamber. The faint scent of roses lingered in the air.
But the room was empty.
Helios frowned slightly beneath his hood.
Soraya was not here. Nor were the handmaidens. Nor Alira.
It seemed he would have to wait for them to return.
He let the cloaking spell shimmer around him, blending him into the background, his presence masked by layers of illusion.
He moved silently to a corner of the room and took a seat in one of the cushioned chairs, reclining with casual confidence.
He needed Alira, but he would also need the final piece. The other thing required to safely enter the Cave of Wonders.
He crossed one ankle over the other and folded his arms behind his head, relaxing as if he owned the place.
Half an hour passed.
Then—
The door creaked open.
Soraya entered first, her regal composure untouched even by the midday heat. Her dark hair was tied back in an elegant twist, her violet robes flowing around her like water.
Five handmaidens followed, bustling with veils and trays and jars of scented oils.
Trailing behind them were Alira, young Jasmine, and Sharma — the two girls giggling about something unseen.
Helios smiled faintly beneath his hood.
Alira was still cloaked, blending in among the palace girls. She moved with mechanical grace, but there was something... almost more human in the way she tilted her head toward the sound of laughter.
He raised his hand subtly.
"Forget and sleep."
A shimmering wave of magic washed over the room.
The handmaidens and the two girls dropped where they stood — not harmed, merely cast into a deep, dreamless sleep.
Soraya's expression flickered — confusion, then alarm as she looked over to the two girls — but before she could call out, she too swayed and collapsed gently onto a pile of cushions, her breathing soft and steady.
Only Alira remained unaffected.
Helios deactivated the selective weave of the spell, stepping forward, letting the cloaking dissolve.
Alira turned, her dark cloak pooling around her small frame.
Her eyes — wide, emotionless, questioning — locked onto his.
Helios smiled warmly.
"Did you enjoy your time here?" he asked, his voice softer than usual.
Alira stared at him, unblinking.
For a moment, Helios thought she wouldn't answer.
Then, slowly, almost mechanically, she nodded.
Helios chuckled under his breath.
He reached out and gently patted her head.
"That's good," he murmured. "It's time to leave."
He extended his hand to her.
For the first time, Alira hesitated.
She didn't move immediately.
Instead, she turned her head, looking at Soraya — lying asleep, a peaceful expression on her face.
The bond between them wasn't strong.
But it was something.
A thread.
A tether.
Alira stood there, her hand halfway raised, torn by an instinct she didn't even fully understand.
Helios didn't rush her.
He simply waited, his hand steady, his smile unwavering.
After a long moment, Alira turned back.
She reached out and placed her hand in his.
Helios closed his fingers gently around hers.
For a second, something like guilt brushed against the edges of his mind — a memory he thought long buried. A memory spent with his parents. As he looked at the young girl, he felt guilty about what he planned to do.
But he crushed it quickly and ruthlessly.
There was no place for guilt here.
Only purpose.
"I'm glad you're not going to hesitate this late in the game," said Kurai's dark and cold voice.
Without responding, he opened a dark corridor.
Helios led Alira through, the corridor sealing behind them.
The sleeping Soraya remained in her chamber, blissfully unaware that when she awoke, she would forget having ever spent any time with Alira.