The desert night lingered, silent and velvet-dark, as two figures walked the long path back to Agrabah. The sun had yet to rise, and the stars still clung faintly to the edges of the horizon like whispers from a forgotten dream.
Kurai walked slightly ahead, her bare feet never quite touching the sand. Helios trailed, hand inside his pocket, silent for once, his jacket dancing behind him in the faint wind.
"You could have opened another corridor," Kurai said, glancing back at him. Her tone was neutral, inquisitive—but there was a glint in her strange, dual-colored eyes, like she already knew the answer and only wanted to hear how he would lie about it.
Helios gave a low, dry laugh. "I could've. But I felt like walking."
Kurai slowed, turning toward him. "Walking?"
Helios shrugged. "They should be waking soon. Aladdin and Jafar. And I've never seen this place as anything other than pixels on a screen. I'd like to actually see Agrabah before we leave. So unless you've somewhere better to be…"
Kurai didn't blink. "I don't."
She stepped back into rhythm beside him, her hair flowing like silvered wind.
"If you wish to open a corridor," he added without looking at her, "do it on your own."
"I can't," she said, bluntly.
Helios raised a brow. "You… can't?"
"My vessel is still calibrating," she explained, tone matter-of-fact. "If I access my full darkness now, I'll either rupture the body or destroy it."
Helios gave a sharp, venom-laced smile. "That would be a sight to see."
Kurai returned his expression, just as venomous. "Yes. It would."
They walked the rest of the way in silence, a quiet tension crackling between them like a sword held just shy of striking.
By the time they arrived at Agrabah's outer walls, the first rays of light were piercing the eastern dunes. The city was beginning to stir—vendors setting up, guards changing shifts, the scent of spice and baking sand drifting through the warm morning air.
Helios slipped his hand into his coat pocket and retrieved a black hex. He whispered a command, and the hex shimmered briefly before vanishing.
Just like that, they were invisible to the minds of men again—two shadows walking unnoticed through a city they didn't belong to.
They made their way through the crowded upper market, weaving past bustling stalls and curious merchants until they reached a small stone archway nestled between two hanging carpets. Helios then deactivated his spell.
Helios stepped inside first. The scimitar salesman was already waiting, seated behind a table of mismatched blades and faded cloth. Without a word, the man reached below the table and pulled out a small cage.
Inside, a young monkey blinked back up at them—wide-eyed, clever, and restless. His tail coiled around the bars like a whip, and he scratched at the lock with fingers far too dexterous for a creature his size.
The salesman grunted. "Just like I told you. Fresh, scrappy, and impossible to shut up."
Helios accepted the cage with a quiet nod. "Perfect."
Kurai tilted her head. "What's this?"
"A gift," Helios said. "Payment for a debt he doesn't remember us owing."
Kurai's lip curled faintly. "Sentiment again?"
"Consider it… maintenance." He smirked. "If I leave loose threads, someone always pulls on them."
From there, they made their way to the slums—where the sun had not yet burned away the night's chill, and shadows clung like forgotten names. The city here was cracked and crooked. Clotheslines hung between mismatched buildings, and children darted between doorways like mice avoiding cats.
They found him sleeping in the narrow hollow of a crumbling wall, wrapped in a torn mat and the faint glimmer of dreams. The boy stirred faintly when Helios approached, reacting to the faint presence of magic.
Helios crouched beside him, setting the cage down gently. Abu immediately rattled the bars with excitement, sensing the presence of something familiar in this ragged corner of the world.
A few paces away, Kurai leaned against a broken pillar, watching everything with calm detachment.
Helios turned, walked a few feet back, and reached into his jacket pocket again. He plucked a small pebble from his pocket—a fragment of stone, worn smooth by sand.
With a flick of his wrist, he tossed it.
The stone clinked against the wall beside Aladdin's head.
The boy stirred—groggy, confused, but already alert in the way only orphans who'd survived long in the streets could be. His eyes snapped open, scanned the area, then locked on the cage beside him.
The monkey screeched, just once—sharp and eager.
Aladdin sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes. He looked from the monkey, to the empty alley, then back again. His eyes narrowed, then widened.
"…What the—?"
He reached for the cage. Abu grinned and chirped in excitement, tail thumping.
From the shadows beyond, Helios watched. Not smiling. Not frowning. Just watching.
Kurai approached silently, standing beside him. "Do you think he'll remember what you did? Such a pointless act in my opinion."
Helios didn't answer at first.
"No," he said finally. "But it still needed to be done. You and I know that he needs that monkey before Sora arrives. So I'm making sure he has it before I leave. It's in both our interests he does."
She said nothing else.
They turned and walked away, the rising sun casting long shadows behind them. Aladdin remained behind—cradling the cage, confused, but smiling. A bond had been made, though he'd never understand how.
And for now, that was enough.