Well, I began this back in 1995, when I was 15. I was a huge fan of Wendy Lee's writings; I adopted her belief about Mozenrath's parents...as is evident in this fiction.

I must apologize for Mirage's comic relief: apparently, I didn't like her much. ^_~ Anyway, I've decided to pick up this fiction and keep writing, so there will be more up soon.

Cheers.

Kuni (2002)

Family Reunion

A carpet sailed through the sky, a tiny spec in the fiery blue sky. Perched on the carpet was an odd company: a street rat, a princess, a monkey wearing a fez, a red parrot, and a rather beaten brass lamp.

The parrot shuddered. "Why do we have to go over the Land of the Black Sand, anyway?" he whined. "Why not around it?"

"We promised Father that we'd be back by mid-afternoon." Jasmine sighed. "Didn't you listen to anything during the luncheon?"

Iago burped, and patted his stomach. "I was too busy enjoying the famous Lhazikstani Grape-Rice Pudding."

Beside him, Abu chittered, and patted his stomach in agreement.

Aladdin shielded his eyes, and looked at the sun. "It is getting late. I guess we have no choice but to try to cross." He turned to Jasmine.

"Make sure Genie doesn't come out of his lamp," he told her. "We don't want to risk Mozenrath detecting his magic."

Jasmine smiled at him. "No problem there. He's fast asleep."

The sand below them gradually changed shades -- from golden to golden brown, and suddenly to a deep shining coal. The travellers watched silently as they entered the treacherous land.

"What's that?" Aladdin said under his breath. He pointed at a figure trudging through the sand.

Iago's eyes widened. "It looks like a cat." He jumped back. "It is a cat! That pest, Mirage!"

The goddess below them was walking in a straight line across the desert, oblivious to the wind. Carpet hovered in the air above the cat, high enough to avoid detection. The small company watched as Mirage reached into the sand and traced a diamond design with her finger. A mamluk sprang out of the sand, followed by a coal black horse and cart. The horse's eye glowed red.

"Now she'll get it," Iago muttered. "The mamluk is going to slice her to pieces."

To their surprise, the mamluk bowed to Mirage. Mirage hopped into the back of the cart. There was a flash of blue-red fire, and the cart, horse, and Mirage disappeared.

The company was silent as they stared at the empty sand.

"I don't like this," Aladdin said finally. "Mirage and Mozenrath: they have one thing in common. They want to destroy Agrabah." He looked at the sun. "Do you think we have time to check it out?"

Abu chittered in fright, and Iago echoed the monkey's sentiments.

"What if Mozenrath and Mirage find us? Or, worse, what if they are having some kind of fight, and we get caught in the middle?"

Aladdin looked at Jasmine. She returned his gaze, and nodded.

"I would feel much safer if we knew what was going on here," she said steadily.

"I agree," Aladdin nodded. "Carpet, let's go."

"Mo-o-ozeeeeey! Oh, Mo-ozeeey! Where are you?!" The obnoxious chant echoed off of the Citadel walls.

Inside his laboratory, Mozenrath winced. Only one creature could get past his mamluks without him being notified. And only one creature would dare call him Mozey...

He buried his head in his arms. Not again; not so soon!

Xerxes flew into the room, and swam in circles. "Mirage here," he whined. "Xerxes hide!"

Mozenrath glanced at the skeletal remains of his last familiar, displayed prominently on a nearby shelf, teeth marks evident in the backbones. "I think that may be an excellent idea, Xerxes."

"Mozey!" the voice warbled, closer this time. "Where's my little Hunklets?"

Mozenrath rolled his eyes, and stood up, wrapping his cape around him. There was a flash of blue fire, and he disappeared.

He reappeared in the throne room. "I'm in here," he said, gritting his teeth.

A cat-shaped beast darted in through one of the doorways, and hurtled itself at the boy. Mozenrath tried to brace himself, but the shape knocked him to the ground. It wrapped its arms around him.

"Oh, Mozey, how's my little boy?!" The cat gave Mozenrath repeated pecks on the cheek.

Mozenrath grimaced, and tried to push himself to a standing position.

Mirage took a step back. "Oh, look how you've grown! And your face has cleared up! Oh, I haven't seen you in so long!!!"

Mozenrath sighed. "What are you doing here?"

Mirage vaulted into the large throne against a wall, and settled comfortably into it. "Just checking on my son," she purred, examining her claws. "There's nothing wrong with that, now, is there?!" She peered at him. "You've got a spot on your mantle. Are you washing your clothes with that new soap I sent you? Because, if not, that's where that spot came from."

Mozenrath tried his best to ignore her obnoxiousness. He closed his eyes and willed her to disappear.

"So, what are you doing? Do you have a girlfriend yet?" asked Mirage.

The youth rolled his eyes, and folded himself onto a golden footstool. "Plans for world conquest. You know. The usual." He tried his best to look sulky so that she would leave him alone. It didn't work.

Mirage purred again. "Mmmm... World conquest! That's my boy!" Her pupils widened, and she looked around. "Where's that new familiar of yours? Certs, isn't it? I have a craving for seafood."

He drummed his fingers on his arm. "Xerxes," he sighed. He snapped his gauntleted fingers. Two mamluks appeared.

"Fish filets for my mother, and a chickpea and tahini mash for me," he ordered. The mamluks disappeared, grumbling.

Mirage leapt off the chair, and lifted his chin until his eyes were square with hers. He stared back miserably.

"Did I hear you right? 'Chickpea and tahini mash'? You're on that vegetarian thing again, aren't you, Mozey? Remember, felines are carnivores. What is our family motto...?"

Mozenrath's face flushed. "'Eating meat is a real treat'," he said automatically. He covered his face with his hands. "Why must you always embarrass me like this?!"

Mirage grinned. "It's every mother's job, dear!" Her stomach growled loudly; she stood and brushed off her dress.

"Now, let's go see what's taking those mamluks so long, shall we? I'm so hungry, I could eat a mermaid!"

"I don't doubt it," Mozenrath grumbled sullenly, and plodded after her. Xerxes peeked out from behind the curtains in fright.

Mozenrath glared at his mother from across the table as she scarfed down the fish his mamluks had served her. Her whiskers were dripping in fish oil, and her lips were smacking with every bite. He took a bite of his chickpea mash, and tried to block out the annoying sounds.

At last, Mirage pushed her platter away, leaned back, and belched. Mozenrath closed his eyes and wished that she would decide to leave.

Mirage licked her paw, and then sat up straight. Her eyes burned fiercely as they gazed into Mozenrath's. The wizard gulped.

"Well, Hunky-poo, I must admit, I didn't just come here to visit you," she started.

Mozenrath winced. Oh, no, she was going to ask if she could move in!

"No, I'm not staying long. But I do have a proposition for you."

Mozenrath sat up straight, growing interested. His mother had never before had enough respect to offer him a proposition.

Mirage folded her hands. "Mozenrath, have you ever heard of The Rite of AshkEnte?"

Mozenrath ignored the guilty pain that suddenly began to gnaw at his stomach. "You've been reading those SciFi novels again, haven't you?"

Mirage stared at him. "Yes, I have. They're very informative."

Mozenrath sighed.

His mother continued. "Well, I have been searching a spell very similar to it, only less complicated, and more specific. Instead of calling up Death himself, one to call people back from the dead, and make them live again. I thought you, being so strong in your sorcery, might know of one."

Mozenrath looked away, remembering all too well where he had last seen that spell.

"I have one," he said softly. "In Destane's old book of spells. He said it was very dangerous." And he was right, he thought.

Mirage looked pleased. "I had heard of one, but I bought the incantation off of an old Gypsie. Stupid of me, she wanted money, and was too clever..." She continued talking, and Mozenrath's mind drifted off. He glanced nervously at the mamluk in the corner of the room, and the mamluk eyed him angrily; he, too, remembered the spell.

The sorcerer interrupted his mother's rambling. "I have the spell -- or something that will work, anyway. What do you need it for?"

Mirage leaned closer, her eyes gleaming. "You and I are going to call back an ancestor of yours, son, and we will take over the world." She leaned back, and tried to laugh evilly, but it was interrupted by a loud belch.

Mozenrath felt nervousness well within him. "Mother, that's a dangerous spell. Something always goes wrong."

Mirage stared him straight in the eye. "Old wizard's tales, all of it. We can handle it."

Mozenrath sighed dismally. There was no arguing with his mother.

"Very well."

Mozenrath held his glowing gauntlet in front of him, and walked down the dusty hallways. He hadn't been to this corner of his Citadel for years, and he didn't wish to remember it.

He opened a door, and it creaked on worn hinges. A set of stairs would their way around a dark, dusty corner; shuddering in spite of himself, he plodded up them.

No one had been here for years; he could faintly make out two sets of footprints in the dust. One was of the mamluk Destane. He knelt down and touched a finger to the other set of footprints. The footprints of a foolish fifteen year old boy, hungry for power.

He shuddered at the memory.

At last, he arrived at a cavern. He snapped his fingers, and a single torch hanging twenty feet above him burst into flames. A steady glow filled the room.

Mozenrath gazed around in awe. He hadn't been here for years, and memories flowed into his head. Shelves were packed with books, volumes and volumes that filled the shelves, all slightly glowing with magic in the dim light. Portraits of wise sorcerers lined the wall, Destane's among them. Basket upon basket lay neatly on the ground, filled with forbidden amulets and talismans. Mozenrath stepped to the nearest one, and peered in. His old possessions were stored here: his skeleton toys, children's spellers and old clothes.

The warm, sappy feeling he was feeling disgusted him. He stood up, turned, and strode to a familiar shelf. He ran his fingers over the books, closing his eyes as he felt for the right spell. At last, his eyes popped open, and he carefully slid a volume out of the shelf. He blew the dust off of it, although it was not nearly so dusty as the others.

He gritted his teeth and turned, resting the book on a table. His gauntleted hand reached for the cover...

"Don't open that, Mozenrath."

The voice was familiar, and Mozenrath jumped. His gauntlet flared red as he whirled around.

"Who's there?" he demanded, holding his glowing hand out as a weapon as he peered into the darkness. Something stepped towards him, and he gasped in surprise.

"Destane?" he cried. Mamluks were unable to speak...

The mamluk's eyebrows were creased wearily, but his eyes glowed with a dangerous gleam.

"Mozenrath, the spell is wearing thin. You should have known it would not last forever."

Mozenrath gasped, and backed away, his feet scrabbling against the cobblestones. "Get -- get away from me!" he warned frantically, waving his arms in front of his face defensively. Destane smiled and stepped forward.

"I am old and feeble now; even if the spell died, I would not be the great sorcerer I once was. Listen to my advice, for as much of a traitor as you are, I wish to protect your leadership of the throne." His eyes glowed with pride as he watched his former pupil before him.

Mozenrath whimpered subconsciously. Trying to regain himself, he narrowed his eyebrows. "I don't trust mamluks." His gauntlet glowed menacingly.

Destane shrugged the best he could without his mamluk appendages dropping off.

"Your power is not what it was, Mozenrath. You were foolish enough to lose most of it to the Thirdak. And every time you take off the gauntlet, it grows weaker. You know this."

Mozenrath was beginning to feel as if the old mamluk was not quite as fit of mind as he believed himself to be. He turned his back on Destane.

Destane warned, "Remember what that spell did to you last time. To reverse it, the consequences would be far greater."

Mozenrath squeezed his eyes shut as if to block out the sounds.

Destane stepped closer still. "Remember what you had to sacrifice for this power. Do you want to make that sacrifice again?!"

Mozenrath whirled on the old mamluk, his fists clenched so tightly they trembled. "SHUT UP, SHUT UP, SHUT UP!" he howled in panic. He screamed out a curse, and it took form as blue fire, settling around Destane.

The mamluk screamed as power ripped through him. His thoughts receded from his mind as it returned to its mamluk form.

Mozenrath carefully blocked his own thoughts from his mind. He shakily grabbed the volume, and strode out the door. The torch went out, and the door's slam echoed into silence.

Mirage waited restlessly, pacing around the room. She flopped down on the cushions of her son's throne. She would never had admitted it, but she was feeling a little nervous.

Mozenrath darted nervously into the room, scanning the shadows. He stood in front of his mother, panting.

Mirage pushed herself to her full height. "Well?" she asked impatiently.

"Mirage," he began.

Mirage's look softened, and . "Call me 'Mommy', dear."

Mozenrath was too panicky to even roll his eyes. He plunged on ahead. "Do you know anything about this spell?"

Mirage nodded. "A little. It is of Egyptian origin, but Destane confiscated it before I could find it, many years ago."

Mozenrath nodded uncomfortably. "Is this spell permanent?"

Mirage shook her head. "Most spells aren't, dear. Why do you ask?" She didn't wait for an answer, and barged ahead, blabbing about the hieroglyphs she had had to translate in order to find the location of the spell.

Mozenrath didn't listen. He closed his eyes. His kingdom was slowly coming back to life... He could reinforce the spell, but that was hardly an option, considering what had happened the last time.

And now he held the same spell in his hands. And this time, he had even less magical strength than before, thanks to the Thirdak.

Shit.

Mirage snatched the book from his hands before he could react. She flipped the pages, and a magical golden dust spilled out of them in clouds.

Mozenrath jumped. "Wait-" he said.

Mirage rolled her eyes. "Honey, I think we can handle it," she reassured him. "With two magical beings, these spells are more easily controlled."

Mozenrath sighed. Destane's warnings were overcome by his inner ambitions. World conquest, the world's power... His mouth began to water with anticipation.

He grabbed the book from her hands and began to read.

Aladdin slipped through the front doors of the Citadel, followed closely by Jasmine, Iago, Abu, and Carpet. He turned to them.

"Okay," he whispered. "Let's make this quick. Jasmine, you search the west end of the Citadel with Abu; Iago, Carpet and I will search the east end." He tossed the lamp to her from his sash. "If you need help, call on Genie, but only if you're in danger! The last thing we need is to attract Mozenrath's attention with magic."

Jasmine nodded.

Mirage put her hand on her son's shoulder. "All right," she said in a low voice, "let's begin."

Mozenrath reached his gauntleted hand over the page with the spell glyphed on it, and closed his eyes. The symbols burned into his mind, and he withdrew his hand. He placed the book on the table, and a piece of paper fell out of it.

"Got it," he said softly.

Mirage nodded. "Ready? Now, lets go to the other room. There's less light in there." She turned, and left the room, practically skipping. Mozenrath plodded dismally after her. The torch flickered and dimmed.

"See, I told you he was up to something!"

Aladdin clamped Iago's beak shut. "Shut up," he cautioned.

He slowly unclenched Iago's beak. The parrot shot him an icy dagger look, which Aladdin could barely see in the dark.

He crept over to the table near him. Scrawlings were etched in an old language on a crumpled sheet of paper, and beside it lay an old book. Carefully, Aladdin flipped to the bookmarked page. The same scrawlings were etched in gold on the book's rice pages, only in reverse.

"I think I found something," he whispered. He shoved the piece of paper in the book, and picked it up. He set it on Carpet's back.

Iago shook his head. "Great. So, now how do we find Jasmine and the monkey? Sense of smell?"

"Shhh," Aladdin whispered. "Getting out is going to be hard enough without you saying anything!" In truth, he had no idea how they would get out without Mozenrath finding them. He was beginning to think that he would need to put more foresight into his plans.

Aladdin put his hand on his chin in thought. Finally, he said, "Okay, look, you and Carpet go back to the front gate. I'll try and find the others, and we'll meet you there. If we're not back in - oh -fifteen minutes, come looking for us."

"Yeah, right-" Iago started, but Aladdin's look silenced him.

Without a further word, Aladdin slipped off into the darkness.

Mozenrath and Mirage joined hands, and began to dance around in a circle. A glowing circle of white light appeared on the ground beneath them, and they chanted the strange words of the spell over and over:

Dêath tô lif, cuman bœc hêr ânes mâra;

Cuman bœc tô se weorold êow a libbes befôra!

Mozenrath felt life drain from him to feed the life they were creating from death. He fought the urge to scream as pain ripped through him.

His mother was having second thoughts, but she blocked them out of her mind as she danced faster and faster. Magic swirled between the two; blue fire formed. It tore at them, ripping at their robes, and dragging them apart...

Mozenrath felt his gauntlet begin to slip off in his mother's hand. He tried to clench his hand into a fist, but the force of their whirling was pulling it off...

White light clouded their vision, and a dark shadow began to take shape above them, writhing in the magic.

Mozenrath scrabbled for his glove, but it was too late. With a pop, it slid off of his hand, and lay limp in his mother's hand.

"No!" he howled. "Not again! Not ag-" His voice was cut short by a horrific explosion of magic. The inside of the gauntlet was exposed to the ancient spell; it burst into blue flames that roared and screeched.

Mozenrath yelled in agony as pain suddenly shredded his left arm. The magic dove at him, throwing his body to the ground as it pounded into him. His screams broke Mirage's trance, and she dropped to her knees, stunned.

Complete confusion followed as their worlds were engulfed by blue fire, and then blackness.

The remnants of the spell seeped into the ground, and began to spread...

* * *

Will be updated very soon...