Odyssey of the Guardian Emperor

Master Jafar was a famous and powerful mage in the South known for his vast knowledge and 'innovative' ways of using aether to perform miraculous feats. Even in the field of magic, he was known to stand in a league of his own with only very few who could stand against him.

It was because of him that South Valeria was prosperous and full of aspiring mages. While the rest of the continent was aspiring to create the best generation of Slayers in the ways of Elite Guards and Adventurers, South Valeria was booming with aspiring mages, alchemists and inventors.

Instead of striving for the prestige of joining the Elite Guard, this man had shattered the status quo and given the world an entirely new way of looking at the power their guardians granted them.

Even the emperor was pleased with his work… And yet, as he led Darth through the great austere halls of the Flame Viper Squad's headquarters, the novice mercenary found his mind screaming in pain.

From a young age, Darth had learned to suppress pain of great magnitude, being born in a rough neighbourhood only to be orphaned very early on. And yet, right now, he struggled to contain the headache he had coming on.

His stomach turned and his nerves flared. Something was very wrong here. ‘What if the rumours of Master Jafar being a Dark Mage are true?’ he wondered.

He spared the man a glance. Black robes, an imposing aura, a height every man dreamed of and the chiselled face of a pampered noble. He was rich, good-looking and beyond successful. Everything Darth wanted.

His guardian, however, whilst acting completely normal, yelled into his mind, [Get out of there. Don’t follow this man. His soul has been tainted by something foul. This man is bad news.]

[Hey, what did we say about judging a book by its cover? Master Darth is the sole reason why the Flame Vipers have thrived. He’s the reason we even got ourselves a job that paid very well, remember?] the novice mercenary yelled.

[THAT JOB WAS A MISTAKE! Killing is forbidden. How many times will I tell you this?] Sabre answered him sternly.

[How many times will I tell you that I did that for us? We need the money. I’m not going back to the streets just because you don’t have the guts to do what it takes] Darth yelled back at his guardian.

At this point, his agitation was visible on his face.

“Are you okay?” Jafar asked him, having noticed the twitching of his facial muscles.

“Yeah…” Darth muttered, “Just fine.”

Inside, he was a mess of pain and emotions. It took everything for him to keep from collapsing on the floor in pain.

“Actually… ever since I returned from the hit mission, I…”

“...Can’t stop arguing with your guardian. You must be in a lot of pain,” the man finished his sentences with a knowing smile.

Darth gasped… then his pain doubled and he gritted his teeth.

“We’ll be there soon,” Jafar added nonchalantly, "Just a little further."

Images of a dead boy with a slit throat flashed through Darth’s eyes. The sight of his eyes losing that little spark of life was engrained into the back of his mind like a permanent scar. With these images, immense pain rippled through Darth's head, 'What's with this headache?'

He wanted to lie down. He wanted to go back to his quarters and sleep it off. Perhaps even take a sleeping tonic while he was at it.

Jafar led the novice mercenary up a tall spire. While the Flame Viper Headquarters had four of these, this one was forbidden for reasons unknown to the majority of the squad members.

Jafar claimed it was where he handled his experiments and no one bothered to ask any more of him.

Higher and higher they went until they reached a door that led to the very top chamber. The older man, without saying a word, opened the door and led Darth into the chamber.

This room, unlike what Darth had expected, was filled with hundreds of transparent glassware, all filled with unknown liquids of different colours. Books were scattered on the tables in a mess, depicting odd magic circles and symbols he didn’t understand.

An unnatural stench filled the air as well as an ominous palpable form of aether. Whether the two were one and the same remained a mystery to the novice mercenary.

Only after the suspicious closing click of the room’s door key did Jafar finally let a smile grace his face, “You did well to make it this far.”

At this point, Darth collapsed on the ground, writhing in pain, “What’s happening to me?”

The large puma, which had been following the pair all this time, growled and pounced at the mage.

Jafar waved his hand at the creature dismissively, summoning a network of black chains into existence. The chains violently bound the guardian and pinned it to the ground, covering every inch of Sabre’s luscious black fur. It all happened within a fraction of a second, yet Jafar didn't look shaken at all.

Taking his eyes off the guardian, Jafar turned back to Darth’s pained form on the ground. The young man had balled himself up with his hands over his ears, gritting his teeth in pain.

“You’re a strong one, Darth,” Jafar spoke, moving over to his desk. Absentmindedly, he started putting away his books and fixing up his lab little by little, “Fighting your guardian’s will is no easy feat. Making it to the last place a guardian would ever be caught wandering is even greater.

You, my friend, are very special,” the man’s voice echoed.

“I don’t understand.”

“Oh yes, you do.”

Jafar remained silent for a moment, then walked to a table at the centre of the laboratory. Darth was struggling to understand what this had to do with anything. His head was on the verge of exploding and yet the man before him was… relaxed.

Was this some form of torture he hadn’t heard of? And why was his guardian tied up?

[Leave this place… and RUN!] Sabre whispered into his mind.

“Don’t worry about your guardian. Those bonds are merely for my protection. Once we’re done here, I’ll set him free,” Jafar responded calmly.

“Those chains though…”

“The minimum amount required to hold a guardian of his strength. You should be proud. Even I’m straining against him. He’s a fine partner,” the man responded with a smirk.

Darth didn’t know what to make of this situation. His guardian was visibly straining against the multitude of chains holding him down like a second skin. The black chains rattled and rolled across the guardian’s fur, failing to contain the contours of the puma’s bulging cables of muscle rolling beneath them, fighting to set the guardian free.

[Get out of here now, Darth. This man is bad news…]

“Don’t you wish your guardian would just stop bossing you around for a bit… and listen to you for once?”

These few words… sounded like honey in Darth’s ears. Maybe it was the way he said it, or maybe it was something deep down within him that related so much with the man’s words…

“And the headaches?” he asked, his heart beating loudly in his chest.

The rattling chains came to a halt… [You wouldn’t.]

Darth spared his guardian one last look, wondering what it would be like for the big guy to stop arguing with him at every turn. He’d gotten them here, hadn’t he? He was standing in a very forbidden room talking to a very powerful man who had just referred to him as ‘special.’

Turning away from Sabre, he asked the mage calmly, “What do you want from me?”

This was also the last day he called his guardian by his name. Not because he didn’t want to… but because he was no longer able to. The name ‘Sabre’ would continue to vanish from his memory even though he heard it a thousand times.

Such was the weight of his crime.

…………………