Sindria's Loyal Serpent

“Oh no.”

“Ohoh, so you’re hungry~?” 

Leave it to Sinbad to attempt looking sexy while missing a hand. The sorcerer leans ever-so-seductively on the shelves packed with numerous ancient tomes and the occasional stray gumball.

“Why, Ja’far, if you told me that earlier I would’ve made something more palatable.”

He gestures airily to the still-bubbling pot that was now starting to look and smell a lot like boiled cabbage. Needless to say, the scent was far from appetizing. Even Sinbad couldn’t hide the cringe as he accidentally got a faceful of those noxious fumes. Why was he messing around with those potions again?

Oh, right. Because he was bored out of his mind. That would also explain why he had a ruthless half-vampire as his sort-of butler.

“…Want to go out for tacos? I hear there’s a new place down the street that serves fresh guacamole.”

“First of all, we both know tacos are hardly what I’m in the mood for. And second; I’m always hungry,” Ja’far states flatly, expression remaining as deadpan as his voice as he does his best not to roll his eyes. Really, Ja’far has no idea what Sin was trying to do there when the image was so effectively ruined by the empty space that should have been occupied by a limb. 

A limb he very much hoped would reappear shortly.

“The hunger just happens to vary greatly.” It was rare he could be fully sated these days, the now familiar hunger varying from vaguely annoying to downright maddening depending on how long it had been or how much strain he’d been under. Though, thankfully it seemed extreme levels of exasperation didn’t quite count as strain. Else he had a feeling he would scarcely escape the more maddening end of that spectrum, considering the nature of the oddity that was his ‘master’ these days. 

“And I would’ve thought you didn’t care much about people calling you chibi- -”

Sinbad was quickly silenced by the sheer speed with which Ja’far moved. The king raises his blade on instinct, the sound of steel on steel resounding in the air before he shifts his weight in an attempt to match the advisor’s swiftness.

Times like these remind Sinbad just how formidable his friend was on the battlefield. Each swing of his sword was met with thin air, those sharp blades coming at him from seemingly out of nowhere. Quick reaction was key… but that was easier said than done when you’re supposed to anticipate your opponent’s blows a split-second before you can reciprocate them. 

As it was, the king ended up on the defensive. He did not even notice how close he’d gotten to the wall if not for his elbow accidentally brushing plaster.

“…!!”

Sinbad’s gaze narrowed before shifting tactics. He couldn’t just keep avoiding the hurricane. He had to charge head-on!

Raising his sword in a wide arc, he prepares for a mighty swing, anticipating Ja’far to duck or avoid his blow entirely.

Ja’far would have been lying had he said there wasn’t a sense of satisfaction that came with being able to press Sinbad back-to make the man that could once dodge his blows without a second thought retreat from the rapid assault of the serpent’s borrowed fangs. Each step back was another step towards victory, and Ja’far had never been one to let up on an assault until it was time to stop.

However that didn’t keep him from considering as the wall grew so near, the serpent almost disappointed at the concept of such a quick and easy victory-he didn’t want easy. If he wanted easy there were countless others he could challenge that wouldn’t stand the ghost of a chance-he wanted a challenge and that was something only a select few could give-