The shadows folded away with a shiver of cold air as Helios and Alira stepped out onto the sun-scorched streets of Agrabah.
The city's life surged around them.
Merchants shouted from crowded stalls, their arms waving over bolts of silk and baskets of ripe fruit. Children darted between camels, laughing as they chased one another down narrow alleys. The scent of spice and sweat hung heavy in the air, carried on a wind that promised a coming sandstorm.
Helios lowered his hood slightly, allowing his eyes to adjust to the glare.
Beside him, Alira clutched the edge of her cloak, her gaze darting from merchant to merchant, to the painted jars, to the flapping banners. Her fingers twitched slightly in curiosity.
Helios noticed.
She was starting to react more.
Starting to live.
He allowed himself a small smile, invisible beneath his cloak.
At the very least if she was enjoying all these experiences then Helios would not feel so bad about sacrificing the young girl later.
Shaking his head Helios turned his attention to the task at hand.
He needed one final thing to complete the equation for the Cave of Wonders: the so-called "diamond in the rough."
Aladdin.
The key.
The one soul capable of entering the sacred vault without being consumed by its defenses.
The only problem?
Where to find him.
Across the city, in the east tower of the palace, Jafar lounged in his private bathing chamber, the perfumed waters of his bath doing little to soothe his frayed nerves.
He dipped his head beneath the surface, letting the heated water close over his ears, blocking out the world.
For a moment, he floated — weightless, silent.
Calm.
But the image of Helios' smiling, treacherous face burned in the darkness behind his eyelids.
He surged upright with a snarl, water cascading from his hair and beard, soaking his crimson robes.
No more delaying.
No more pretending.
Dripping and fuming, he stalked barefoot through the hallways, ignoring the startled glances of passing servants.
He reached his secret lair.
The door opened with a whispered spell.
He stepped inside—and froze.
The pedestal at the center of the room was empty.
No scarab.
No glow.
Nothing but a note in its place with familiar handwriting that said one-word "Thanks".
The rage hit him like a hammer.
He screamed, grabbed a floating shelf, and smashed it against the floor. Crystal orbs shattered, scrolls caught fire, relics clattered against the walls.
The floating black desk snapped in half under a blast of magic, shards embedding into the walls.
Breathing hard, chest heaving, Jafar slumped against a pillar.
It took him a full minute to calm down.
Another two to think clearly.
Helios that bastard child.
It had to be him.
That smug, smiling rat.
His mind raced.
If Helios had both halves of the scarab, he could open the Cave of Wonders.
If he opened the Cave first, all the treasures — all the magic — all the power Jafar had waited his entire life for would be lost.
No.
That could not happen. He would not let it happen.
Jafar's fingers closed into fists.
He crossed the ruined lair and pulled a surviving chest from the wreckage. Inside were ancient texts — scrolls and fragments that spoke of the Cave, the scarab, and the ancient protections placed upon its treasures.
He unrolled one, scanning quickly.
There he found a cryptic page that mentioned a person.
The Chosen. The Diamond in the Rough.
A pure heart.
An untamed soul.
A vessel meant for greatness, but untouched by it.
Jafar grinned, teeth flashing.
If Helios needed the person… then that meant he could enter the cave until that person was found. So he would be searching inside and around Agrabah to find this individual.
Then all Jafar had to do was find that person first.
Or better yet—
Find them and turn them to his side.
Meanwhile, back in the city—
Helios led Alira through the back alleys, weaving around market stalls and past lounging camels.
He observed everything.
The beggars.
The thieves.
The children.
A hundred faces.
Thousands of stories.
But no Aladdin.
Yet.
Alira tugged lightly on his sleeve.
Helios glanced down, surprised.
It was the first time she had initiated contact without being prompted.
"What is it?" he asked quietly.
Alira hesitated, her fingers curling in the fabric.
She pointed to a stand selling colorful glass trinkets — tiny animals, stars, flowers.
"Why?" she asked, her voice soft, almost confused.
Helios raised an eyebrow. "Why what?"
She struggled finding the right words.
"Why… are they… shaped like… that?"
Helios followed her gaze to the glass sculptures.
He considered.
"A reminder," he said finally. "They take something meaningless — glass in this instant — and turn it into something beautiful. People like to give meaning to things that don't have any. It makes the world feel... less bleak and cruel."
Alira tilted her head, absorbing the answer like a sponge.
Another question lingered in her eyes, but she didn't ask it.
Instead, she simply nodded once and resumed walking at his side.
Helios smirked to himself.
She was changing faster than he had expected.
That was a risk.
Hours passed.
The sun began its slow descent toward the horizon, casting long shadows across the winding alleys and stone streets.
Helios paused at a rooftop cafe, buying two small cups of thick, bitter coffee from a vendor. Alira accepted hers wordlessly, sipping it with a curious expression.
He leaned against the low stone railing, surveying the sprawling city below.
Still no sign of the boy.
But patience was one of Helios' oldest allies.
He could wait.
In the slums on the edge of the marketplace, unseen by Helios, a young boy with unruly black hair and tattered clothes darted between the crowds — lifting an apple from a vendor's stall without missing a step.
The merchant shouted and gave chase, but the boy was too fast — vanishing into the maze of alleys with a cocky laugh.
His name, unknown to anyone who mattered yet, was Aladdin.