The Life of Mine, for the Life of Yours by Sedeara

Index

Chapter 1: Prologue
Chapter 2: Chapter 1
Chapter 3: Chapter 2
Chapter 4: Chapter 3
Chapter 5: Chapter 4
Chapter 6: Chapter 5
Chapter 7: Chapter 6
Chapter 8: Epilogue

Chapter 1: Prologue

|The
Life of Mine, For the Life of Yours |

An original story inspired by Disney's Aladdin
Written by Sedeara
==================================================================
  To Evi, who was the first person, in her reading of it,
that felt all the same emotions as when I wrote it.
==================================================================
Note: This story has also been translated into Spanish by Eva Luz Villalon
Turrubiates.  To read the translated version, click here.
==================================================================

Prologue

         The woman lay on
the bed, unmoving.  Her brown eyes seemed
bottomless as she stared at the curtains above her bed.  Her
usually dark
complexion had grown pale, save for the purple rings around her
sunken
eyes.
         Slowly, she turned
her head to look at the Elder in the room with her.
"Phasir," she whispered, her voice hoarse, "I know I don't have
much time.
But I'm not ready to give up!  I can't surrender when there's
so much left for
me here . . . There must be a way.  There must be a cure .
. ."
         The Elder nodded
in the woman's direction.  "You know there is," he
reminded her, "but there is no one here who can acquire it. 
Not even
myself."
         "Only two people,
besides me, are capable of finding it," murmured
the woman, "but they will never return in time . . ."  Her
voice almost
cracked as she realized she was admitting her own imminent death.
         "No," agreed Phasir. 
"Nor can we summon them from the place they
are now at.  If they failed to attend this conference, the
seven deserts could
end up in war.  You know better than any how fragile relations
have been
lately."
         "Yes," murmured
the woman, "and I know the needs of the people
outweigh my own . . ."
         "But you're wrong,"
contradicted Phasir gently.  "Your life is
precious, and will be saved.  The stars are in perfect
alignment; If we are
going to do anything, it is imperative that we do it now. 
Call your daughter
in.  She will aid us in our plans."
         "She is only a
child!" protested the woman weakly.  "I do not know
what you plan, but please, do not put her in danger, or cause her
any pain--"
         "The danger and
pain of this mission pale next to the pain of living
without her mother," interrupted Phasir. "You should know that well. 
Call
her in."
         "Tell me the plan
first," begged the woman.  "My daughter fears you,
and she will take the message better from me.  Please."
         Phasir sighed. 
"You may be right."  And he told the woman the idea,
told her how to reach the man who could save her life.  When
he finished,
her weary body released a sigh.
         "It sounds unbelievable,"
she admitted, "and yet I do not doubt you.
I've been through enough not to question the extraordinary . . .
"  She took a
deep breath into her aching lungs and called her daughter's name.
         The little girl
was immediately in the room, for she'd been standing
right outside her mother's door.  She kneeled beside the bed
and took the
woman's cold hand in her young one.  "Mother," she whispered,
trying hard
to be brave and hold back tears, "What's going to happen?"
         "Listen closely,
child," whispered the woman, "and I will tell you what
must be done . . ."

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Chapter 2: Chapter 1

Chapter One

         "Okay, Jasmine. 
You can look now."  Aladdin removed his hands
from Jasmine's face, and she gasped.
         "Oh, Aladdin! 
This is beautiful!"  She ran forward and spread her
arms, dancing around the lush clearing.  Bright desert flowers
sprouted
everywhere, and the grass was as soft as velvet.  A small, shimmering
pond
was nearby, and the setting sun made bright flecks of orange, green,
and gold
dance upon the clear blue water.  Palm trees circled the small
area and bent
inward, as if they were whispering secrets to one another.  Indeed,
the entire
oasis seemed to be a secret, for there was no sign of human interference
in its
beauty.
         She turned back to
Aladdin.  "How did you find this?  And why isn't it
swarming with people?"
         "I came upon it on
my way home from Pitosah last week, by accident,"
answered Aladdin.  He almost expected an ornery voice to squawk,
"Came
upon by ACCIDENT?  Wouldn't it be more accurate to say you got
LOST?
Some dignified Sultan YOU'RE going to make, stopping every three miles
to
ask for directions!"
         Instead, Jasmine just
said, "I'm glad you did."  It sure had been
quiet since Iago left.  Not just quiet, but uneventful. 
After the excitement and
celebration of the wedding had tapered off, Agrabah had been unusually
free
of trouble.  Aladdin wasn't quite sure if he liked that or not.  
He still had a
craving for adventure.  Still, safety was a nice change.
         "That still doesn't
explain why it seems nobody else has ever been
here," said Jasmine slowly, and Aladdin was disappointed by the wary
note in
her voice.  He wanted her to relax and have fun.
         "Maybe it was just
waiting for us," said Aladdin, picking up a small
stone and skipping it across the water.
         "The same way the
oasis of the ah-muddy waited for us?" asked
Jasmine, but now her voice was teasing.  She bent to the ground
and knelt
beside the pond, sifting her fingers through the fine, silvery sand
on its bank.
         "Nah," said Aladdin. 
"Besides, I get a good feeling from this place.
Don't you?"
         "I do," admitted Jasmine. 
"It's like we're suppose to be here.  Maybe
what you said was true.  Maybe it was waiting for us."
         "I like to think that,"
said Aladdin.  "But I'm sorry to say I'm not the
one who discovered this place.  I looked it up as soon as I got
home that day
and found it on the map.  It's called the Lilithian Oasis, and
was apparently
discovered and charted centuries ago.  So if anything unnatural
was going on
here, we'd have heard about it."
         Jasmine's face jerked
up at the oasis's name.  She almost laughed.
"Aladdin, you've never heard of this place?  My father used to
read me stories
about it when I was a child.  But I thought it was made up." 
She pulled
herself up from the ground.  "Now I feel as if I've walked into
my old fairy-
tale book!"
         "This place probably
was named after the one you read about," said
Aladdin.  "What did the stories say?"
         "I don't remember
them very well," admitted Jasmine.  "I remember
only that this place was enchanted--no, not the entire oasis. 
Just the lake.  It
always sent people to different places on incredible adventures!"
         Aladdin smiled at
Jasmine mischievously.  "Things have been rather
uneventful around Agrabah lately," he said.  "Are you in the mood
for an
adventure?"
         "Aladdin!" laughed
Jasmine.  "You don't actually believe those things?
They were children's stories!"
         "But you believed
them once," Aladdin said.  "Didn't you?"
         "Yes," admitted Jasmine,
suddenly wishing she could go back to that
time when she could take anything told to her as the truth.  Now
she always
had to be on her guard for ulterior motives, constantly had to read
between
the lines and hear what was unsaid.
         As if he were reading
her mind, Aladdin said, "Let's believe them again,
Jasmine.  Let's test the theory and take a swim in this 'enchanted'
lake."
Aladdin was already removing his traveling boots and testing the water.
         "Nothing will happen,"
said Jasmine, even though a tiny part of herself
was beginning to believe.  She glanced up at the sky, where a
full moon was
beginning to rise and stars peaked from behind wispy clouds.
         "The water is warm,"
said Aladdin.  "At least we'll get a relaxing swim
out of it.  Are you coming?"
         "Oh, why not?" laughed
Jasmine.  She kicked her shoes onto the sand
and followed as Aladdin led her around the pond to a low, jutting rock. 
They
climbed it, and together, plunged into the shimmering lake.
 

         Jasmine was first to
burst out from beneath the water.  Regaining her
breath, she glanced to the still surface of the lake beside her, which
was soon
broken by Aladdin's emerging head.  He surveyed the oasis which
was
. . . exactly as it had been when they entered the pond.
         "Are you disappointed?"
asked Jasmine.
         "A little," admitted
Aladdin, although he felt silly for actually believing
something would happen.  The only thing that had changed was that
the moon
was higher in the sky, and more stars had appeared.
         "Well, we'll get a
good swim out of it," said Jasmine.  "The water is
wonderfully warm."
         Aladdin nodded, but
something had caught his eye.  A little girl was
emerging from between the trees, gasping as if she'd been running. 
Her eyes
were large and brown, and her thick black hair had been thrown about
by the
night breeze.  She was dressed simply and appeared to be a peasant
child.
Over her arm was draped another old dress, although clearly too big
for the
child, who looked no older than seven.
         Jasmine, who had also
noticed the child, asked, "Do you think she's
lost?"
         Before he could answer,
the girl exclaimed, "Good!  You're here.
Mother told me you would be but . . . I didn't really believe her."
         Aladdin glanced at
Jasmine, and they exchanged questioning looks.
Slowly, they began emerging from the water.
         "Little girl, are
you lost?" asked Jasmine gently.
         The girl glanced at
Jasmine nonchalantly and then turned her gaze back
to Aladdin.  "My name is Yesenia," she said, speaking to him. 
"It feels funny
telling you that!  You do know who I am, don't you?"
         Jasmine looked curiously
at Aladdin.  "You've met?"
         Shaking his head,
Aladdin knelt in front of Yesenia and said, "I think
you have the wrong person.  I don't know you."
         Jasmine was surprised
to see that Yesenia appeared hurt by Aladdin's
words.  She lowered her eyes and let out a sigh.  "Mother
said this would
happen . . . But I still thought you'd know me.  You should
know me!  Why
don't you?"
         "I'm sorry," stammered
Aladdin.
         "I wish I could tell
you!" cried Yesenia.  "I wish I could tell you who
you are, because I don't like you not knowing."
         "I know who I am,"
said Aladdin gently.  "My name is Aladdin.  I live
at the palace."
         "I know that!" exclaimed
Yesenia.  "I live at the palace too!"
 Jasmine was startled by the girl's words, but then dismissed
them as
childish fantasies.  Many children wished to be royalty and could
even
convince themselves of it.
         "Really?" asked Jasmine,
humoring her.  "Do you like living there?"
         Yesenia's gaze moved
to rest on Jasmine again, and she was
discontented by the resentment in the little girl's eyes.  "Yes,
I like it there,"
she answered, coldly polite.
         Jasmine couldn't keep
from feeling offended.  What had she done to
earn this child's dislike, and how had Aladdin so easily won her favor?
         Aladdin noticed Yesenia's
attitude toward Jasmine as well, and trying
to lift the mood, said, "This is my wife, Jasmine.  I'm sure you'll
like her."
         "Mother said she might
come along," said Yesenia, once again
speaking to Aladdin and ignoring Jasmine, "although we hoped
she wouldn't."
Now she turned toward Jasmine, and held the rags she had draped over
her
arm out to her.  "Put these on," she commanded.  "No one
can know who you
are."
         "What do you mean
no one can know who I am?" asked Jasmine,
taking the clothes the girl held out to her.  She couldn't help
resenting orders
given to her by a child, and she added, "I'm the Princess of Agrabah.
Everyone already knows who I am."
         "Exactly," muttered
Yesenia.  "You can't be recognized."
         "What is going on
here?"
         "Don't question!"
warned the girl with surprising authority.  "Put those
over your clothes, veil your hair, cover your face.  It's part
of the plan."
         "The plan?" repeated
Jasmine, annoyed at being caught up in a child's
daydream, and apparently picked to be the villain as well.  Even
so, she
found herself donning the garments the child had given her.
         "What is this plan?"
asked Aladdin warily.
         "I wish I could tell
you!" said Yesenia sincerely.  "Really I do!  But
you won't believe me . . . and I don't understand it . . . Mother will
explain it
to you when you come back to Agrabah with me . . . Aladdin." 
The girl's
voice caught on his name, as if she were tempted to call him by another.
         Aladdin glanced at
Jasmine, who was now completely covered by
conservative peasant clothing.  Her eyes, which were the only
part of her that
was left visible, told Aladdin of her displeasure.  Nonetheless,
he felt a
strange obligation to the little girl and said, "All right.  I'll
come to Agrabah
with you."
         He had expected Jasmine
to object to his obeying Yesenia's orders, but
instead she nodded and followed behind.  For as much as she hated
to admit
it, an uncanny obligation to the girl had awakened within her as well. 
And
somehow, she knew the outcome could be devastating if she refused to
let
Aladdin take part in "the plan".
 

         Jasmine had walked
the streets of Agrabah at night many times before,
but something seemed different.  She couldn't quite put her finger
on it as she
scrutinized the city through the haze of her concealing veils, but
by the way
Aladdin glanced uneasily about, she knew he noticed it too.
         Yesenia was leading
them, and she had Aladdin's hand clutched
possessively in her own.  Even though Jasmine knew it was silly,
she felt a
twinge of jealousy.  Why has Aladdin been so easily accepted
by her, and
why have I been cast aside? she wondered. What causes this
prejudice?
         "I'm glad you're with
me," said Yesenia, smiling up at Aladdin.  "I don't
like walking alone at night.  Mother usually doesn't let me. 
She only did
tonight because I had to get you.  It's an emergency."
         "An emergency?" repeated
Aladdin.  "Yesny, what's wrong?  Are you
in trouble?"
         Jasmine noticed that
Aladdin didn't address the child with her full
name.  Instead, he'd called her 'Yesny', as if they were very
familiar with each
other . . . it was almost a pet name.  Again she envied the strange
bond she
wasn't allowed to be a part of.  She trailed behind them like
a tag-a-long, a
third wheel.  Yet, for some reason, her heart yearned to be accepted,
respected . . . loved by this little girl.  As Aladdin
was.
         "No," said the girl,
answering Aladdin's question.  "I'm not in trouble,
but my mother is.  She's very sick . . . and she needs your help."
         Why Aladdin's help?
wondered Jasmine.  Why does Yesenia's
mother think she has the right to call upon him for her personal
problems?
A sick feeling settled into Jasmine's stomach as she thought, perhaps
he
knows her mother . . . Perhaps they once . . . or do share an intimate
bond
. . .
         She shook her head,
trying to chase off her distrustful thoughts.  Yet,
she felt as if she were looking at a different Aladdin.  What
if he was
deceiving her?  What if . . .?
         "Where are you taking
us?" asked Aladdin.
         "To the palace," answered
Yesenia simply.  "To our home."
         Our . .
.?  Yesenia and her mother live in the palace?  A servant girl,
perhaps . . .?
         Jasmine looked away
from them.  If indeed they were going to the
palace, she didn't need to follow a little girl to get there. 
She knew her own
way well enough.
         She shivered in the
night air, despite her layers of clothing.  Why was
she disguised on a trip to her own home?  Suddenly, Jasmine stopped
in her
tracks.  They had been journeying through the deserted market-place,
and the
familiarity had been comforting . . . until Jasmine noticed a missing
link in the
otherwise tight chain of merchants' stands.
         "Aladdin, wait," commanded
Jasmine, placing her hand on his arm.  He
halted, causing Yesenia to jerk to a stop as well.  She looked
over her
shoulder at Jasmine, annoyance on her face.
         "What is it, Jasmine?"
         Jasmine pointed to
the empty space.  "Aladdin, what happened to
Omar's fruit stand?"
         Aladdin's face registered
his surprise.  "I don't know.  I know
Agrabah's streets like the back of my hand . . . and there's never
been a space
there before."
         "Omar entered paradise
three days ago," said Yesenia bluntly,
continuing on her path to the palace.  "The lot is open now. 
I think his
brother will move there.  There's more important things to worry
about."
         Aladdin gave Jasmine
a questioning look before running forward to
catch up with Yesenia.  "You mean Omar . . . died?" he asked. 
"But why
didn't word reach the palace?  Jasmine and I didn't know."
         Yesenia looked up
into Aladdin's eyes and sighed.  "There's a lot you
don't know."
 

         As they entered the
palace, Jasmine was surprised to find that Yesenia
was leading them as if they didn't know the way themselves.  She
was even
more surprised when they were led to the east wing instead of the west.
         "Excuse me," she said,
bringing herself up beside Yesenia.  "Our
quarters are in the west wing, Yesenia.  The east wing is for
guests."
         Yesenia gave Jasmine
a look that said she had no idea what she was
talking about.  "Aladdin can sleep in the west wing if he wants
to," said
Yesenia.  "But you have to sleep in the east wing tonight."
         "Aladdin is my husband,"
said Jasmine, trying to hide her annoyance.
"We will share a bed-chamber."
         "Then you'll both
sleep in the east wing."
         "But our quarters
are in the west wing!" argued Jasmine. "Yesenia, the
palace is our home!"
         Yesenia whirled angrily
on her.  "Not yours, not now.  You don't
understand the plan, so stop fighting it.  Like Aladdin."
         "Aladdin may be happy
to follow you blindly into this, but I'm not,"
said Jasmine.  "I want to know what's going on here."
         "Jasmine," said Aladdin. 
"Relax."
         Jasmine stilled her
tongue, but the resentment within her wasn't so
easily quelled.  She was left out of too much, had too many questions
unanswered.  Why didn't she feel welcome in her own home? 
Why did
Aladdin so willingly follow the girl's orders?  And why did Yesenia's
mother
call upon Aladdin in her illness?  What right would she have,
unless . . .?
         Again Jasmine tried
to shake such feelings off, but she wasn't
successful.  As soon as she and Aladdin had been shown into their
guest
room, she let her frustration explode.
         "Aladdin, what is
going on here?" she demanded.
         He looked surprised. 
"How am I suppose to know?  This is as much a
mystery to me as it is to you."
         "That's not the way
I see it," admitted Jasmine.  "To me, it looks as if
you've known this child all your life.  And why aren't you hesitant
to
participate in her plan?  For all we know, she could have been
sent by
Mozenrath, or Mirage, or Sadira!"
         "You don't really
believe that, Jasmine," said Aladdin.  "The child is a
bit bossy, but she isn't devious or evil.  We'd feel that."
         "Aladdin, you do
know her," pressed Jasmine.
         "I don't!"
         "You know her mother
then.  Don't you?"
         Aladdin shook his
head.  "I don't know anything about her except that
she needs our help."
         "Your help,"
corrected Jasmine.  "It's clear that I'm not to be a part of
this.  And why does Yesenia's mother think she has the right to
call upon you
anyway?  There has to be something going on."
         "Jasmine, there isn't!"
insisted Aladdin. "Don't you trust me?"
         That silenced her. 
Hadn't she fallen in love with Aladdin because he
had been so easy to trust?  Had she ever seriously doubted her
trust in him
before?  Had he ever betrayed it?
         "Yes," she murmured. 
"Aladdin, I'm sorry.  But this doesn't make
sense to me."
         "It doesn't make sense
to me either, Jasmine," he said.  "But I feel a
strange connection with Yesenia . . . like a bond.  And I know
we have to
help her."
         "I can tell," admitted
Jasmine, not wanting to tell Aladdin that, despite
the girl's disapproval of her, she felt something there too. 
Only to her, it was
irritating, because the feeling wasn't mutual as it was with Aladdin
and
Yesenia.  "But why?  Why are you drawn to her?"
         "Actually," said Aladdin
slowly, "she reminds me of you."

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Chapter 3: Chapter 2

Chapter 2

         "Me?" repeated Jasmine. 
"Why do you say that?"
         Aladdin shrugged. 
"I don't know.  Something about her eyes . . ."
         "Everyone has brown
eyes around here," reminded Jasmine.
         "But it's more than
that," said Aladdin, distracted.  "There's something
else . . . like her spirit.  It's independent, like yours. 
She's just a child, but she
knows what she wants, and she won't back down . . . such strength is
. . .
surprising."
         Jasmine lowered herself
onto the bed.  "I can't see the resemblance,"
she admitted, "but if she's like me, why does she hate me so much?"
         Aladdin sat down beside
her.  "I don't think she hates you, Jasmine."
         "She certainly doesn't
like me."
         "I think there's something
about you that she doesn't understand, and
that scares her," said Aladdin.
         Jasmine shook her
head  in confusion.  "Why can't I see this the way you
do?  Why does it feel so wrong to me?  It's like I 
shouldn't be here . . . This is
my home, but it's not.  Something is different, Aladdin, and I'm
not just talking
about the guest room or Yesenia.  I'm talking about Agrabah, Omar's
death . . .
this whole situation."
         "I feel it, too,"
said Aladdin, "but I'm not worried.  I feel like we're
suppose to be on this mission.  Come on, Jasmine.  This certainly
isn't the
first adventure we've faced together."
         She smiled weakly
at him, adding, "And I doubt it'll be the last."
         Aladdin had begun
turning back the bed-covers, and he said, "Let's get
some rest.  Maybe things will make more sense in the morning."

         Aladdin awoke to a
loud pounding on his door and Yesenia's voice
shouting his name.  "Aladdin!  Are you in there?  You
need to get up.  My
mother's very sick!"
         "I know," muttered
Aladdin groggily, crawling out of bed.  "I'm
coming."
         Jasmine sat up beside
him.  "So am I."
         He glanced at her. 
"It's fine with me."
         However, a few minutes
later when they arrived outside the door, they
discovered that it wasn't all right with Yesenia.  "She can't
come!" she
insisted.  "It has to be just you."
         "I'm tired of you
ordering us around," said Jasmine.  "I will come."
         A short struggle followed,
but in the end, Jasmine found herself
following closely behind Aladdin, although she was once again disguised
. . .
disguised in her own home.  The thought disgusted her, and she
wondered
again why she was going along with this.
         To her surprise, Yesenia
was leading them to the west wing . . . not
just there, but it seemed directly to Jasmine and Aladdin's own quarters,
the
ones they had been denied the night before.  If they turned that
corner up
ahead . . .
         They did.  They
were now in the hall which housed Aladdin and
Jasmine's chambers.  Jasmine walked down the familiar hall, knowing
exactly
how many doors to pass on each side before coming to her own . . .
but
something was still eerily different.
         As they came closer
and closer to her own chambers, Jasmine began
feeling strange.  Her head hurt, and her vision swam before her. 
She shook
her head, trying to clear it.  Before her, Aladdin swayed, blurred,
doubled,
darkened.  Sweat beaded on her face.  I can't panic,
she thought, that will
only make this worse . . . Yet, nothing seemed to help. 
With each step she
took toward her room, the feelings spread and intensified.  Now
she had a
dull, cramping pain in her stomach, which blossomed out to encompass
her
chest, oozing down her legs and arms . . .
         She gasped with the
growing pain and extended her arm to touch the
wall, trying to steady herself.
         Aladdin stopped and
turned.  "Jasmine!  What's wrong?  You . . . you
look terrible."
         "I feel terrible,"
whispered Jasmine.  "Aladdin, I have to sit down."
She sank to the floor.
         Yesenia knelt beside
her.  "I told you not to come," she said, but her
voice wasn't irritated . . . it was almost gentle.  "I knew something
like this
would happen.  You just can't be with my mother."
         Jasmine began removing
the concealing veils from her face, and
Yesenia immediately stopped her.  "No!  They can't see you!"
         "Yesenia, I'm so hot,"
murmured Jasmine.  "I can't stand to wear these.
Right now I don't care who sees me."
         "Leave them!" commanded
Yesenia.  "Get up.  I'll take you away from
my mother's room."
         Aladdin bent to help
Jasmine off the floor, and she leaned on him for
support.  "Are you all right?" he asked as he began leading her
back to their
guest room.
         Jasmine nodded, feeling
herself steadying with each step she took.
And just as the sickness had hit her before, now it left her, gradually
. . .
symptom by symptom.  By the time they had exited the west wing
and were
about to enter the east wing, she felt completely well again.
         She pulled away from
Aladdin.  "I'm okay now," she said.
         "Are you sure? 
You certainly look better, but . . . "
         "It's as if it never
hit me at all," interrupted Jasmine.  "I feel fine."
         "What happened back
there?" asked Aladdin.
         "I'm not sure. 
But . . . " Jasmine sighed.  "Maybe Yesenia is right.
Maybe I shouldn't join you for this."
         "Are you sure you'll
be all right back here alone?"
         "Aladdin, I can take
care of myself.  I'll be fine."
         "Of course she will,"
injected Yesenia quickly.  "But my mother won't
be if we wait too long.  Aladdin, come on."  She tugged
impatiently on his
arm.
         "All right, Yesenia,"
said Aladdin, letting her lead him away.  "Let's
see what we can do about your mother . . ."

 
         Jasmine watched Yesenia
and Aladdin until they were out of her sight,
once again feeling the sharp pain of being excluded from their little
clique.
She turned away when they were gone, but instead of returning to the
east
wing, decided to explore the palace on her own.  She wanted to
find what
made this . . . different.
         She entered a hall
near her own, but not near enough for her to feel the
strange effects she'd experienced before.  The rooms were silent
. . . dead . . .
All but one, which Jasmine heard a woman's voice coming from. 
Grateful for
the sign of human life, Jasmine rushed toward the room, and, since
it had only
curtains for a doorway, softly entered.
         There was a plump,
middle-aged woman sitting on a rug in the middle
of the floor.  Beside her was a screaming baby boy, whom she was
trying
desperately to quiet.  "There, there, child," she murmured, picking
the baby
up from the floor and setting him on her lap.  He looked about
a year old, and
he struggled and continued to cry in her arms.  Soothingly she
rocked him,
and began singing a calming lullaby, but still he wailed.
         Jasmine noted that
she didn't recognize the woman as being currently
employed as part of the palace's staff . . . perhaps she was filling
in for
someone.  But whose was the child?
         Her eyes scanned the
room and took note that was a nursery.
When had that been done?  Finally, much to her relief, her eyes
rested on something familiar.  Sitting on a couch behind the woman
and baby
was Abu, squeaking in a desperate effort to distract the child.
         Seeming to sense Jasmine's
gaze on him, Abu glanced in her direction.
He stared at her for a few moments before his eyes got huge and he
squealed
in surprise.  He dashed behind the woman and pulled on her robes
until she
took notice of him.  "By Allah, Abu, what has gotten into you? 
Calm down;
the baby is distressed enough as it is."
         Abu didn't calm down.
Instead, he pointed a finger at Jasmine and
began jumping up and down excitedly.
         The woman looked up
and saw Jasmine.  "Well, hello, dear," she
greeted.  "I didn't see you there; don't just stand in the door-way,
come in,
come in."
         Jasmine entered tentatively,
feeling insecure about being in her home
with people she didn't know and in a room that had been completely
rearranged.  Not only that, but the woman apparently didn't know
who
Jasmine was either; the disguise concealed all but her eyes.
         "You're the one who
came in with Aladdin last night, aren't you?"
asked the woman.
         "Yes," answered Jasmine.
         "Well, I usually don't
allow strangers in the nursery; you can never be
too careful you know," she said, raising her voice over the baby's
persistent
cries.  "But since you came with Aladdin, I feel you can be trusted."
         "Thank you," murmured
Jasmine.
         "A blessing that Aladdin
could make it home from his conference so
soon!" exclaimed the woman.  "We were all sure he wouldn't make
it in time
. . . but perhaps now there's still hope.  And he must have brought
you back
from there for a reason.  Are you a healing-woman, perhaps?"
         Jasmine shook her
head, completely confused.  Was the woman
referring to the conference Aladdin had attended in Pitosah the week
before?
For if she was, she was slow in noticing his arrival. Not only that,
but she was
wrong about it.  He had in fact, been late coming home from that
conference.
         "Oh, where are my
manners!" gasped the woman suddenly, breaking
into Jasmine's thoughts.  She placed the baby on the floor again
and rose to
her feet.  "I've rambled on to a complete stranger without introducing
myself!
My name is Halima, and I am the children's nurse."
         Children?
         "And what is your
name, dear?" prompted Halima.
         "Jasmine," she answered,
and immediately wished she could take that
back.  If it was so crucial that she stay in disguise, shouldn't
she keep her
name secret too?
         The woman looked surprised. 
"Jasmine?" she repeated.  "Were you
named after the Princess?"
         I am the
Princess! Jasmine wanted to scream.  Why can't
anybody acknowledge that?  Instead she said, "Yes. 
I was named after her."
         Abu, who had been
listening quietly, suddenly seemed surprised by
this.  Despite her disguise, Jasmine knew he knew the truth.
         "It was quite the
fashion for a few years to name all Agrabah's girl
children Jasmine," recalled Halima.  "You were born in Agrabah?"
         "Yes."  At least
that wasn't a lie.
         "You must have moved
away then, if Aladdin met you while attending
the peace conferences."  Just then the baby let out a loud wail,
and Halima
bent to scoop him into her arms.  "You'll have to tell me your
history some
time, dear.  But now, I'm afraid it will have to wait until my
charge quiets
down!"
         Jasmine was relieved
that her charge wasn't quieting down.  She
didn't know enough about what she could tell and what she had to keep
secret
to tell this woman her "history".
         "Is the child all
right?" Jasmine asked.  It didn't seem normal that he'd
done nothing but cry since she'd first seen him.
         "I don't know what
to do about him," admitted Halima.  "Ever since his
mother became ill, he's been impossible.  He won't respond to
me anymore."
         "He is Yesenia's brother?"
         Halima looked surprised. 
"Of course!  I can see you aren't yet fully
acquainted with the family."
         "No," whispered Jasmine. 
The family?  Whose family?
         "May I hold him?"
asked Jasmine.  For some reason, she'd been
yearning to comfort the child from the moment she walked into the room.
Something told her that, despite Halima's failure to quiet him, she
could.
         "Yes," said Halima,
passing the baby into Jasmine's arms.  "Be very
careful with him!"
         Jasmine sat down on
the couch and placed the baby on her lap, turning
him so he was facing her.  He looked up into her eyes, and slowly,
his sobs
began to quiet.  Jasmine gently brushed the tears off his face,
and he snuggled
against her, nestling his head into her chest.  She brushed thick,
silky black
hair away from his forehead and soothingly began to rock him. 
Drowsily, he
moved his thumb to his mouth and closed his eyes.
         As she held the sleeping
baby against her, Jasmine was overcome with
something she'd never experienced before.  She forgot that Halima
and Abu
were in the room and focused entirely on the child.  Although
she'd seen him
for the first time only a few minutes before, now the affection she
felt was so
strong that she would do anything for him.  She wondered if this
was what
Aladdin felt with Yesenia.
         "Well, I'm amazed!"
admitted Halima, breaking into Jasmine's reverie.
"You do have a touch with him!  Do you have children of your own?"
         "No."
         "All the more reason
for me to be baffled!  You have no idea how
difficult he's been lately!  We've tried everything . . . I'm
not sure what you
did, but apparently it worked.  Maybe that's why Aladdin brought
you back!"
         "What is his name?"
asked Jasmine.
         "Cassim," answered
Halima.  "Named after that rascal of a grandfather
he has!"  Halima laughed in a way that suggested she had encountered
"that
rascal of a grandfather".
         "Cassim," whispered
Jasmine, but she wasn't speaking to Halima.
Named after his grandfather . . . Aladdin's father . . . Was it the
same Cassim?
Jasmine felt dizzy.  Clues were beginning to fit together, but
Jasmine felt she
only had half the puzzle.  She needed to talk to Aladdin. 
Perhaps he could
provide the missing pieces.

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Chapter 4: Chapter 3

         Yesenia and Aladdin
stopped directly before his own bed-chambers.
"Go in," whispered Yesenia, quietly opening the door.
         Aladdin began to enter,
then glanced over his shoulder.  "Aren't you
coming?"
         Yesenia shook her
head.  "Just you.  Hurry!"
         Aladdin stepped into
the room and heard the door close behind him.
The chamber was dark, the only light being a waning lamp near the bed. 
He
made out familiar shadows of palace furniture as he walked forward,
but
something told him this wasn't familiar at all.  There was a darkness
resting
over the room that was more than just the lack of light. The aura was
so thick
that Aladdin could feel it pressing in on him and instinctually wanted
to shove
it away.
         As he approached the
bed, he made out the form of an old man
standing beside it . . . an old man clad in rags . . . Was there a
cloth
concealing his eyes?  Phasir.  But just as quickly as Aladdin
recognized him,
he backed into the shadows, until he was nothing but another dark blur.
         Now Aladdin's eyes
moved to the bed itself, and to its inhabitant:
Yesenia's ill mother.  The shadows playing on the crevices in
the sheets
revealed a gaunt body, and the woman's face was like a waning candle:
Aladdin knew it had once been bright and alive, but now it was struggling
to
sustain the tiniest spark.
         Aladdin paused before
going close enough to really see the woman's
face.  An unexplainable fear held his feet where they were; 
he didn't really
want to know who she was.
         A rustling sound coming
from her area hinted that she was shifting,
turning toward Aladdin.  He took a step back.
         She spoke:  "Aladdin. 
Come nearer."
         His heart stopped. 
For although the voice was soft and raspy with
sickness, it was unmistakably Jasmine's.

         "Jasmine?" whispered
Aladdin, disbelief in his voice.  "Is that you?"
         "Yes."
         "But I thought . .
. you went back to the east wing . . . and you said--"
         "You don't understand,"
murmured Jasmine.  "But it's so good to have
you here again.  Give me your hand."
         A thin hand emerged
from beneath the sheets, and Aladdin immediately
grasped it.  It was as cold as ice, and Aladdin tightly squeezed
it, wishing his
touch alone could warm her weak body.  He allowed himself to study
her face
now, and even in the light from a lone candle, he recognized her familiar
features.  But her face was different, and more so than could
be accounted to
the illness.  It was stronger, even in her physical weakness .
. . and wiser,
somehow.
         "Jasmine," whispered
Aladdin.  "Are you all right?"
         Phasir's voice emerged
from the darkness.  "I think you know the
answer to that, Aladdin."
         "What happened? 
You said, in the hall, that you were feeling better
. . . and Yesenia . . . she said that you were her mother."
         "She spoke the truth,"
whispered Jasmine.  "And you are her father."
         The knowledge hit
Aladdin like a lightning bolt, and for a moment his
breathing stopped.  Countless questions flooded him, but at the
same time,
answers.  "How did . . . The Lilithian Oasis . . . ?"
         "Yes; through it you
traveled ten years into the future."
         "How did you know?"
asked Aladdin.  "How did you know we would
be there?"
         "You forget," murmured
Jasmine, "that I was there.  I remember that
night ten years ago when you took me to the oasis, I remember plunging
into the water hoping for adventure.  And I remember emerging
from the
water  . . . Nothing happened.  We went home disappointed. 
Because nobody
needed you then.  But this time it was different.  I summoned
you; I needed
you."
         "Jasmine doesn't know,
does she?"
         "The younger Jasmine
that came with you?  No.  But she'll find out
soon.  It's dangerous for her to be here.  You must
keep her away from me;
both of us being in the same era is unnatural.  If she comes too
close . . . the
two of us will merge into one being . . . and one of us will be lost. 
History
will be upset and incomplete."
         Fear settled into
Aladdin's heart at her words.  "Jasmine, she was so
near you earlier.  We brought her into this very hall . . . Yesenia
warned her
against it--"
         "But she wouldn't
listen," finished Jasmine, a weak smile touching her
lips.  "I know her character.  That's why I hoped
she wouldn't be able to
come here with you."
         "When she came down
this hall she became ill," Aladdin recalled.
         "I knew she was near,"
acknowledged Jasmine, "because I was
involuntarily drawing strength from her young, healthy body. 
I didn't want
to do it, but she was so close . . . and she was me.  The
merging was
beginning;  Thank Allah that it was not completed."
         Aladdin nodded in
agreement.  "That's why she had to be disguised.
We wouldn't be able to explain two of you being here at the same time."
Aladdin paused as a new fear entered his mind.  "But I didn't
have to conceal
my identity.  Jasmine . . . where am I ten years in the
future?  Why did
you call me from the past?  I should be in your present with you
. . ."
         "You are," Jasmine
assured him.  "But not at this moment.  Last week
you left with my father for peace conferences in Getsestan . . ." 
Jasmine
closed her eyes, and Aladdin realized that the continuous talking was
wearing
her down.  He felt guilty for the explanations he was repeatedly
requesting,
but there was so much he needed to know.
         "How could he . .
. I do that?" demanded Aladdin, angry at his future
self.  "How could I leave for those conferences when you are so
ill?"
         "Don't blame yourself,"
whispered Jasmine.  "Last week . . . we didn't
know the illness would become so severe . . ."
         "It hit you suddenly,
while he was gone?"
         "No," she admitted. 
"It began while he was here--I was suppose to go
to the conference myself, but I had not felt well--the disease was
in its early
stages . . . I assured him I'd be all right . . . I didn't know it
would progress so
rapidly . . . but it did.  And I knew I didn't have time to wait
for him to return.
That's why I had to send for you . . ."  Her voice caught and
Aladdin realized
suddenly just how serious this illness really was.
         "But he still should
have stayed!" cried Aladdin.  "If he knew you were
ill . . . he should have taken precautions."
         "You don't understand,"
whispered Jasmine.  "In the future, you cannot
afford to miss conferences.  Agrabah's relationships with neighboring
kingdoms have become unstable; a new Sultan in Pitosah has become power-
hungry and has targeted Agrabah for his next conquest.  He's already
annexed
Tirvaltan, Nateralis . . . Kingdoms don't resist for fear of war; Pitosah
is a
great military power . . . "
         "It doesn't matter!"
protested Aladdin.  "He shouldn't have taken chances that
way, he shouldn't have left you--"
        Jasmine smiled slowly. 
"But Ali was so excited to go."
        Aladdin stopped short. 
"Who?"
        "Our firstborn son and heir. 
Ali.  You'd promised to take him to this conference
so he could further his training.  He's going to be Sultan someday,
you know."
        The pride Aladdin felt swelled
until he thought he'd hardly be able to contain
it.  "We have a son," he whispered, disbelieving.  "A son
and a daughter--"  and
a mother who's quickly fading . . .
        Aladdin snapped out of his
content musings.  "I still shouldn't have done it,
Jasmine--left you that way.  Ali would have understood--"
         "In the future," murmured
Jasmine, turning her face away, "you have
also learned the lesson of all great leaders: The needs of the people
outweigh
your own personal needs."
         "No," whispered Aladdin,
and his hand tentatively touched Jasmine's
face.  "Nothing could ever outweigh my love for you . . ."
         Jasmine turned back
to him, and her eyes were filled with tears.
        "Thank you," she whispered. 
She moved her hand up to clutch his.
         "You've summoned me
for a reason," stated Aladdin.  "Tell me what I
must do."
         "I don't want to talk
anymore," murmured Jasmine, her eyes slowly
closing.  "Go find Jasmine and explain to her what is happening. 
I need to
rest."
         "Do as she tells you,"
said Phasir, emerging from the shadows.  "I'll
watch over her until you return."
 

         "Jasmine!  Don't
come any closer!"
         Startled, Jasmine
halted in her tracks.  She was standing at the junction
between the east and west wings, on her way to find Aladdin. 
He rushed
toward her now, anxious.
         Cassim had awakened,
and she had taken him from the nursery with
Halima's permission.  As Aladdin neared, the baby grinned and
clapped his
dimpled hands together.
         "Aladdin!" exclaimed
Jasmine.  "I have to talk to you--"
         "I know; Jasmine,
you won't believe what I just discovered--"
         "Where is Yesenia? 
Did you meet her mother?"
         "Yes," said Aladdin
slowly.  On the verge of explaining, he took notice
of the baby for the first time and paused.  "Jasmine . . . whose
baby is that?"
         "Aladdin, there's
a nursery at the end of the hall," said Jasmine.  "I met
him there . . . "  She wasn't sure how she could explain her suspicions
without
sounding crazy to Aladdin.  She proceeded to give him the evidence,
hoping
he would pick up on what she was trying to say.  "His name is
Cassim."
         "Cassim," repeated
Aladdin softly.
         "The nurse said he
was named after his grandfather . . ."
         Aladdin was silent.
         "He's Yesenia's brother
. . ."
         "Jasmine . . . she's
our daughter.  And if Cassim's her brother . . ."
         Jasmine nodded. 
"He's our son."
         Aladdin smiled and
tentatively ran his hand over the child's soft black
hair.  "He's beautiful," he whispered.
         Cassim giggled and
playfully pushed Aladdin's hand away from his
hair.
        "We have another," commented
Aladdin softly.
        Jasmine raised her face
in surprse.  "Another . . . son?"
        "Yes."
        "Where is he?  Let
me meet him!"
        "He's away with your father
and me.  Training to be . . . Sultan."  Aladdin
grinned at how disbelieving it all was.  Disbelieving and wonderful. 
"But I'm
sure he'd be as beautiful as Yesenia and . . . Cassim."
         Jasmine smiled fondly
down at the boy and then raised her face.  Her
eyes met Aladdin's.  For a moment they shared something that could
never be
put into words, but that they both understood.  Jasmine shattered
the moment
by saying, "What did you want to tell me?  What did you see when
you were
brought to Yesenia's mother . . ."  Jasmine's eyes suddenly got
wide as the
realization hit her.  "Oh my gosh . . . Aladdin . . ."
         He nodded.  "It
was you in the room."
         Jasmine felt dizzy. 
She extended one arm to touch the wall in hopes of
regaining her balance.  Aladdin noticed her sway and quickly took
Cassim
from her arms.  She walked slowly to a nearby bench and sank onto
it.
Aladdin followed and sat beside her, situating Cassim on his lap.
         "Explain to me what
happened."
         Aladdin took her hands. 
They were shaking.  "This is going to sound
strange . . . Here goes.  Jasmine of the future is very ill. 
She brought me ten
years forward, by way of the enchanted Lilithian Oasis.  The me
of the future
is gone to peace conferences in Getsestan with your father and . .
. and our son.
Inter-kingdom relationships have become unstable.  While I was
gone, Jasmine's illness
became worse until . . . "  He paused when he saw the fear in
Jasmine's eyes,
but continued truthfully.  "She doesn't look good.  I think
we're here to heal
her . . . but I'm not sure how.  She didn't tell me."
         "That must be why
I felt so badly this morning," murmured Jasmine.
         "Yes.  And it
can't happen again.  She told me that if you come into too
close contact with her, you'll merge into one being."
         "I shouldn't be here,"
whispered Jasmine.  "Yesenia was right . . . I've
only brought more danger."
         "I think this also
explains why Yesenia is uncomfortable with you; to
her, her mother is the woman lying in the sick-bed.  She can't
comprehend
both of you being here at once.  So you've become an impostor."
         "I feel like one,"
admitted Jasmine.
         "Look," said Aladdin. 
"You might be needed.  I don't know what has
to be done to heal Jasmine, but I'm sure I don't want to perform the
task alone.
So we're in this together."
         "Aladdin!" exclaimed
Yesenia, breaking in on the scene.
         "What?"
         "My mother's awake
again, and she's asking for you."
         Aladdin rose from
the bench and passed Cassim into Jasmine's waiting
arms.  "I have to go."
         "I'm going into the
city," decided Jasmine.  "It's too dangerous for me
to be around . . . Her."
         Aladdin nodded. 
"I'll find you later.  By then, I hope to know what
needs to be done."
 

         Jasmine stepped into
the warm desert sun.  Cassim smiled and squinted
his dark brown eyes against the bright rays.  Jasmine bent her
head and
placed her hand above his eyes to shade them.  However, he laughed
and
quickly pushed her hand away.
         Despite her confusion,
Jasmine smiled.  Something about being outside
in the warmth, carrying her smiling son in her arms, brought her an
inner
peace.  If her daughter, Yesenia, would not accept her, at least
Cassim would.
         Cassim playfully pulled
at Jasmine's veils, and she struggled to keep
them covering her face.  She batted his hands away, which only
encouraged
his game.  Finally, she put him on the ground, held his hand,
and let him walk.
Now she understood the importance of concealing her identity.
         Passing familiar stands
and houses, Jasmine felt like less of a stranger.
It wasn't until she smelled the scent of watermelons that she realized
she
hadn't eaten anything all day, and that she was hungry.
         She stopped before
a new fruit stand.  A pleasant, middle-aged woman
stood behind the table.  She smiled as Jasmine approached.
         "How may I help you,
Ma'am?"
         "Could I have a bowl
of sliced watermelon pieces?" asked Jasmine.
She began fishing around in her pockets for coins, but was distracted
by
Cassim.  He tugged on her robes, insisting that he be picked up
again.
         Jasmine bent to the
ground and swung him into her arms, resting his
weight against her hip.  He smiled and began reaching for the
vendor's coin
purse.
         "No, no, Cassim,"
murmured Jasmine, as she continued to dig into her
pocket for the coins with her free hand.  "Ma'am, could you make
sure those
melon pieces are small enough for the child to eat?"
         "Of course, dear."
         Jasmine noticed that
the woman's voice was distracted and glanced up.
The vendor was staring with wide eyes at Cassim.  "Why!" she exclaimed
suddenly, "It's the young Prince!  Out of the palace and right
here in the
marketplace.  What a special treat!"
         Immediately, Jasmine
silently reprimanded herself.  Why hadn't she
thought of the fact that, although people wouldn't recognize her, they'd
recognize her son?  He was a Prince of Agrabah, after all.
         "Yes."  Jasmine
smiled, trying to remain calm.  She slid the coins
across the table to the woman.
         The woman pushed them
back.  "Oh, no dear!  Consider it my special
treat to give the Prince his snack."
         "You're sure?"
         "Of course! 
Of course."  Suddenly the vendor sobered.  "Pardon me,"
she said, almost suspiciously, "but I have lived in Agrabah my entire
life, and
you don't look familiar to me.  How is it that a stranger is allowed
to have the
Prince in her care?  Where is Halima?"
         I'm his mother! 
Jasmine wanted to scream.  I have every right to
have him in my care!  Instead, she said, "Halima is at
the palace.  I have her
permission, and Aladdin's as well.  He returned from his meeting
in Getsestan
early;  I met him there, although I was born in Agrabah, and came
back with
him.  He wanted me to . . . help Halima with the children. 
I seem to have a
knack with children, and they've been difficult since . . . since their
mother
became ill."
         Lies! 
thought Jasmine. I can't stand all these lies.  What if I
contradict myself?
         "The Sultan did not
return with you?" asked the vendor.
         "No.  Niether
did Prince Ali.  They both stayed in Getsestan.
Aladdin came back for the Princess.  He was worried about her."
         "And with good reason,"
commented the woman.  "You've been to the
palace.  Tell me, how is she?"
         "I wasn't allowed
to see her," said Jasmine.  It felt strange to be telling
the truth, but good too.  "Aladdin told me that she . . . does
not look well.
But . . . there is still hope.  Now that Aladdin's here."
         The vendor sighed. 
"And thank Allah for that!  I'd hate to see the
Princess go so young, like her poor mother did."
         Jasmine nodded, but
suddenly wanted to change the subject.  "There
are many years between Cassim and Yesenia," she commented.  "It's
not
often that there is a six year gap between children."
         The woman raised an
eyebrow.  "My!" she exclaimed.  "You are a
stranger to Agrabah."
         Jasmine bit her lip,
a movement the vendor didn't see because of the
veils.  Had she said something wrong?
         "I didn't intend to
make you feel foolish," said the woman
apologetically.  "It's just that all Agrabah's residents remember
the death of
the third royal child."
         Jasmine's body went
numb.  "Death?" she repeated.  Cassim was
laughing as he heartily dug into the juicy melon pieces, but he suddenly
seemed far away, in another world.  The world Jasmine had entered
was not
so carefree.
         "Oh, it was tragic,"
murmured the woman, shaking her head.  "The city
was in mourning for weeks.  It was a girl child, and the heir
had already been
born, but still . . . the family was devastated.  Only three months
old, and taken
by the fever . . ."
         "How awful," murmured
Jasmine, and a part of her didn't want to listen
any longer.  However, the woman continued, and she couldn't keep
from
hearing the words.
         "It hit Princess Jasmine
the hardest.  It was quite a while before she felt
ready to bring another child into the world.  Not that I blame
her.  It's a good
thing that she did though, or we wouldn't have this handsome little
Prince."  The
woman tickled Cassim's chin, sticky with watermelon juice.
         Jasmine glanced at
the fruit bowl.  Only three months old, and taken
by the fever . . . It hit Princess Jasmine the hardest . . . the
heir had already
been born, but the family was devastated . . .
         She felt sick. 
She was about to tell the woman that she no longer
wanted the watermelon, but Cassim was still hungrily shoving pieces
into his
mouth.
         "Excuse me," she whispered,
taking the bowl off the table.  "I really
have to get back to the palace now."  Jasmine spun away from the
stand.
         Her vision was blurred
as she rushed through the crowded marketplace
to the palace.  People and buildings spun and swam before her,
but her feet
continued to carry her forward.
         A tight seed of sorrow
within her chest was waiting expectantly for the
chance to burst into bloom, but Jasmine thwarted its efforts with all
her might.
She finally found herself before the palace stairs and ran up them
as quickly
as she could.
         As if in a dream,
she found Halima and asked if she would take Cassim
for a while.  She spoke and acted without prompting herself, and
then sped
out of the palace once more before she broke down.
         She needed to find
a place where she could be alone, and mourn the
loss of her daughter.

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Chapter 5: Chapter 4

Chapter 4

         Aladdin hesitantly
entered the dark chamber.  Everything was as it had
been, except that Jasmine had four pillows stacked behind her, so she
could
sit up.  The candle burned more brightly than it had before, now
beneath
Jasmine rather than level with her.  The light flickered and danced
on her
gaunt face, emphasizing the dark circles under her eyes and her hollow
cheeks.
         "Jasmine," murmured
Aladdin.  He moved forward and took her hands,
sitting on the edge of the bed.  "Tell me what I need to do."
         Jasmine pointed to
a book laying on the bed-side table.  "Give me
that," she said.
         Aladdin removed the
book from the table and placed it on Jasmine's
lap.  She began paging through it.
         "What I need you to
do," she whispered, "is find the cure . . . it can be
made from a plant.  There."  She pointed to a page in the
book.  The plant
was dark green with tiny blue blossoms sprouting at imprecise intervals.
         "The Aquinta," Aladdin
said, squinting to read the caption in the dim
light.  He looked up at Jasmine's face, fear written on his own. 
"It's extinct,
Jasmine.  I'm from ten years in the past, and it was already extinct
then . . ."
         Jasmine shook her
head.  "It grows still, Aladdin.  In one place, and
one place only:  Arbitras's garden."
         "Arbitras's garden,"
repeated Aladdin.  "Jasmine have you been there
since . . ."
         "No."
         Aladdin stood up. 
"How do you know it's there?"
         "Phasir has spent
hours in Jafar's lab, poring over his books.  He's
found numerous clues leading to this conclusion."
         Aladdin glanced at
Phasir, and he nodded his affirmation of what
Jasmine had said.
         "But even he doesn't
know how to get there," said Jasmine.  "Only you,
me, and my father know that.  Father used to have a map, but we
haven't been
able to find it.  You do remember the way?"
         Aladdin nodded. 
"Will Arbitras be there again?  What if his garden has
withered without him?  Or what if he won't part with one of his
'children'?"
         "I've thought about
that, and I don't know any of the answers,"
admitted Jasmine.  "I don't want to put you in danger but . .
. Aladdin, this is
the only way!"
         The desperation in
her voice was so clear that Aladdin wished he'd
never spoken his own doubts.  "The only way we'll ever know,"
said Aladdin,
"is if I go and see for myself.  And don't worry about anything,
Jasmine.  I'd
give my life for yours if I had to, rather than let you down." 
He bent to kiss
her forehead, and Jasmine reached up to touch his face and hold him
to her
for just a little longer.
         "Thank-you," she whispered,
and there were tears in her eyes as he
rose.
         "My motives are not
unselfish, Jasmine," Aladdin murmured, "I
couldn't live without you."
         With those words,
he was gone.  Jasmine closed her eyes.  "Thank-
you," she repeated, her voice weakening.  "May Allah protect you
. . ."
 

         Yesenia sat alone in
the menagerie, running her fingers over Rajah's
soft fur.  She raised her eyes to see the balcony of her parents'
chamber,
which overlooked the garden.  Nobody had stepped onto it for weeks. 
She
could remember when her mother used to stand up there and watch Yesenia
play.
         Yesenia remembered
a time when she had spent more hours with her
mother than with her nurse, Halima.  But now, she was hardly allowed
to see
her mother at all.
         Halima treated her
like she was too young to understand what was
going on, and Yesenia hated it.  She knew her mother was sick
. . . she knew
that she might even die.
         A dark shadow lurked
in the back of Yesenia's mind.  She had been
very young . . . only two years old, when the royal family had gone
through a
death.  It was remembered like a dream: black drapes, silent halls,
and, in
Yesenia's young eyes, an entire world in mourning.
         It had involved a
baby . . . Yesenia's first sister.
         She shook her head. 
Nobody ever talked about that, especially not
around her.  She would have thought it was just a dream,
if it weren't for the
occasional comment of a careless servant.  And she knew what she
remembered was real.
         What if those same
black drapes were hung once again?  What if the
world mourned . . . for her mother?  Yesenia broke into tears
and buried her
face in Rajah's fur.
         "Yesenia, what's wrong?"
         Her father's voice. 
She looked up, hope returning to her soul.  Now
that Aladdin was here, everything would be all right again.  She
didn't know
how he would do it, but he would find a way to cure her mother. 
He would.
         "Aladdin!" she exclaimed,
quickly brushing away her tears.  "How is
my mother?"
         "She told me what
I have to do, Yesenia.  I'll leave as soon as I can."
He knelt to the ground so he could be on eye level with the child. 
"Are you
all right?"
         She nodded. 
"Yes.  Now that I know you'll save her."
 Aladdin was touched by the blind faith she had in him, when he
hadn't
even proven himself to her yet.  Belief that a parent could solve
the problems
of a young world was something Aladdin had never had when he was
growing up.
         "I'll do everything
I can," promised Aladdin.  "Do you know where
Jasmine is?"
         Yesenia's eyes clouded
with resentment, and she shrugged
indifferently.  "She hasn't come back from the marketplace."
         Aladdin rose. 
"I'm going to find her."
         "Why?"
         "I might need her
help."
         "I'll help."
         Aladdin shook his
head.  "Yesny, this could be dangerous."
         "I like adventures,"
said Yesenia, as if she had one every day.
         "I want you to stay
here with your mother," said Aladdin.  "She might
need you."
         Yesenia sighed. 
"You're right.  She doesn't like the servants doing
things for her.  She'd rather have me."
         "That's right," said
Aladdin.  "And I'll have Jasmine with me."
         "Why is she with you?"
         "She's my wife, Yesenia."
         The girl shook her
head.  "My mother is your wife."
         Aladdin ran his hand
through his hair.  "Look, I know this is hard for
you to understand, Yesenia.  I hardly understand it myself. 
But you just have
to trust me with this, okay?"
         Yesenia eyed Aladdin
almost warily before she finally whispered,
"Okay."
 

         Aladdin found the search
for Jasmine difficult, especially since he
couldn't ask people about her.  He also kept being stopped by
townspeople
who were welcoming him home from Getsestan.  One man even remarked,
"Things must be going well, and the trip must have done you good. 
You look
years younger!"
         Aladdin simply smiled
and said no more, because he didn't know
enough about the peace conferences.
         He finally found Jasmine
in the Lilithian Oasis.  She had her knees
drawn up to her chest, and her head was lowered into them.  Aladdin
thought
he'd never seen her look more depressed.
         "Jasmine," he said
quietly, and she didn't look up at his voice.  He sat
down behind her and touched her shoulder.  "What's wrong? 
Do you want to
go home?"
         "Home can never be
the same after we've been here," she whispered,
"knowing what we do . . ."
         "What are you talking
about?  What happened?"
         "I feel you'll hate
me if I tell you," admitted Jasmine.  "Yet, I don't
know how I can keep it from you all those years, when it will haunt
my
thoughts constantly."
         "You know nothing
you could do or say would make me hate you,"
Aladdin said.  "You can tell me."
         "We'll lose our third
child to death," blurted Jasmine, her voice
breaking.  She felt a trembling inside that told her she was about
to cry and
tried to quell it.
         Aladdin stared numbly
at her for a few moments before repeating,
"Death?  Jasmine, how do you know this?"
         "A woman told me in
the marketplace," she answered, closing her eyes
against tears that threatened to come.  "She didn't know who I
was, and I'd
commented on how many years there were between Cassim and Yesenia,
and
she told me why.  Cassim is our fourth child, Aladdin, not our
third."  She
shook her head.  "After she told me, I couldn't stay to find out
more.  I never
should have mentioned it to her.  It wasn't my place to know .
. . I shouldn't
know already . . ."
         "Oh, Jasmine . . ."
         She turned toward
Aladdin, her brown eyes shining with tears.  "How
can I ever be happy again," she murmured, "knowing what will happen?"
         The same question
had flashed through Aladdin's mind, and he reached
out his arms to pull her against him.  She was shaking, and her
hands grasped
at his clothing as if she were afraid he too would leave her.
         "We'll all find happiness
again," he promised.  "We'll have each other,
our fathers, Ali, Yesenia and Cassim . . ."
         "I'll be afraid to
bear any children after Yesenia," confessed Jasmine.
"If I don't, I won't have to go through what happens to our third-born
. . ."
         "But Cassim has to
be born Jasmine," insisted Aladdin.  "It's his right."
         "Why does it have
to happen that way!" cried Jasmine.  "Why?"
         "I don't know," admitted
Aladdin.  He held her tighter and pressed his
face into her hair.  They mourned together for the inescapable
sorrow their
future held.

 
         Perhaps minutes or
hours passed; neither Aladdin nor Jasmine knew
which.  But eventually, Aladdin pulled himself away from his wife
and lifted
his hand to wipe tears off her face.
         "We can't let this
stop us, Jasmine," he said.  "I know what we need to
save you . . . in the future."
         Jasmine swallowed
hard, determined to stop showing such weakness.
        "Good.  What is it?"
         "You need a plant
called the Aquinta--"
         "Extinct," murmured
Jasmine.
         "In all but one place,"
Aladdin said.  "And that one place is why we
were summoned, for only we know the way there:  Arbitras's garden."
         Jasmine blinked in
surprise.  "Arbitras's garden?" she repeated.  "Even
if we go, do we know if he'll allow us to take one of his creations?"
         Aladdin shook his
head.  "No.  But it's the only chance we have."  He
rose and extended his hand to pull Jasmine up as well.
         She detained his offer
and stood on her own, brushing grains of sand
from the lake's shore off her clothes as she did so.  "Well,"
she said,
determination in her voice, "We'd better start now, and correct the
things that
still can be changed."

Back to index

Chapter 6: Chapter 5

Chapter 5

         Just as Aladdin and
Jasmine were going to leave the Oasis, Yesenia
burst through the surrounding trees.  She was breathing heavy,
and her face
was sweaty.
         "Aladdin--Dad," she
gasped, leaning against a tree for support.  "I'm so
glad you're here."
         Aladdin glanced at
Jasmine and then rushed forward, kneeling before
the child.  He pushed sweat-dampened hair off her forehead. 
"Yesenia, what
happened?"
         "Mother--" she panted,
her voice choking both from lack of air and
emotion.  "She's entered the final stage of the sickness. 
We have less than
two days before . . ."  She buried her face in her hands and broke
into tears.
         Aladdin pulled Yesenia
against him, turning over his shoulder to see
Jasmine.  She bit her lip but said nothing.
         Yesenia drew away. 
"We have to leave for the garden.  Now."
         "Yesenia, you know
about Arbitras's garden?"
         She nodded. 
"Phasir told me.  I want to go with you."
         Aladdin shook her
head.  "We discussed this already, Yesny.  It's
dangerous.  And your mother needs you."
         "No," sobbed Yesenia. 
"No, don't make me go back there.  She's
gotten so bad that she can hardly talk.  I can't be with her .
. . there's nothing
for me to do there . . ."
         "Oh, Yesenia . . ."
         "I can't just wait
for her to--"  Her voice broke again.  "I have to do
something to help.  Please, Daddy."
         Aladdin felt Jasmine's
soft hand touch his shoulder.  "Let her come,"
she whispered.  "It's her mother."
         Aladdin nodded. 
"All right, Yesenia.  You can come to the garden
with us."
         Yesenia clasped her
hands together.  "Oh, thank you," she breathed.
         In less than an hour,
the three of them had mounted Agrabah's finest
horses, and were racing through the uncharted expanse of desert that
housed
Arbitras's garden.
 

         Jasmine shivered as
she gazed upon the garden castle.  It grew right out
of the barren desert as if it had somehow escaped a dream, and Jasmine
felt
as if that very thing had happened.  Nothing had felt completely
real since
she'd left her home a decade in the past.
         Absently, she dismounted
her horse and tethered him to one of
Arbitras's sturdy trees.  Her legs shook as she began walking
down the path
to the lush doors.  "It's exactly as I remember," she whispered. 
"Nothing has
changed . . . in eleven years, nothing has changed."
         "Yes, it has," murmured
Aladdin, cautiously taking the lead.  His
traveling boots were completely silent as they pressed into the soft
moss
walk-way.  "This is how we found it eleven years ago, but this
isn't how we left
it."
         "You're right," agreed
Jasmine.  "After Arbitras's heart was severed, his
garden withered . . . "
         Yesenia walked between
them, and Jasmine looked over her head at
Aladdin.  "Do you think it means . . . he's back?"
         Aladdin shrugged. 
"Only one way to find out."
         They had reached the
doors.  Just as Aladdin raised a hand to push
against the entwining branches, they magically opened before him. 
Yesenia
gasped and jumped back in surprise, but then quickly tried to hide
her
reaction and stepped boldly through the entrance.  Aladdin and
Jasmine
quickly followed.
         Yesenia drew in her
breath slowly as they entered.  Birds twittered
carelessly among green-leafed trees, bright flames of colored flowers
exploded everywhere, and crystal clear waterfalls fueled glassy streams. 
A
heavenly white light illuminated the entire scene.
         "It's better than
the Lilithian Oasis," said Yesenia, her voice hushed
with wonder.  "It's like it's out of a fairy tale . . ."
         "Who trespasses in
my garden?"  The awed silence was broken, and
the entire grounds trembled with fearful rage at the voice.
         "Arbitras?" called
Jasmine, hoping her tone didn't show her fear.  Her
eyes scanned the area for the garden-keeper.  "It's me, Jasmine
. . . "
         "Jasmine," repeated
Arbitras thoughtfully.  "Ah, yes.  The beautiful
human girl who dared to take the name of a flower . . . I've wondered
often
about my escaped masterpiece . . . my betrayer."
         "Arbitras, no!" protested
Jasmine.  "I didn't mean for it to happen like
that."
         "All your pretty words,"
scoffed Arbitras, and now Jasmine saw the
shadows shifting until his towering form emerged.  "Your human
trickery
nearly caused me to lose all this!"  He spread his arm in a sweeping
gesture
that included everything in the castle.
         "I know it seems that
I was deceptive," admitted Jasmine, "but I never
wanted you to lose what you loved most in the world, Arbitras. 
Please
believe me."
         His eyes narrowed
contemplatively.  He glanced at Aladdin, then
pointed a bony finger accusingly in his direction.  "You!" he
exclaimed.
        "Yes, now I remember. 
Your princess tricked me into believing she
understood long enough to buy time for you to arrive.  Jasmine
was a pawn in
my destruction: She the betrayer, you the destroyer."
         "Arbitras, we're sorry
for what we did," said Aladdin, spreading his
hands helplessly before him.  "I wish we could change it."
         Arbitras folded his
arms over his chest, as if to close himself off to
Aladdin's apologies.  "I must know this," he said slowly. 
"Why have you
returned?"
         "We . . . we need
your help," admitted Aladdin.
         Arbitras laughed humorlessly. 
"First you destroy me, then you think I
owe you services?  Why should I help you?"
         Jasmine stepped forward. 
"Arbitras, you may not know this, but
Aladdin didn't understand what he did to you.  He only wanted
to protect me.
And he was the one who kept and replanted your heart.  He was
the one who
allowed you to live again."
         "Because he destroyed
me," added Arbitras.  He waved his hand
dismissively and began to turn away.  "Then we are even. 
I owe you
nothing."
         "You didn't allow
us to finish!" cried Jasmine.  "We've come from ten
years in the past to save . . . me."
         Arbitras looked curiously
over his shoulder.
         "She's dying, Arbitras,"
stated Aladdin.  "Jasmine has less than two
days to live unless we make the cure out of a plant that can be found
only in
your garden."
         "Dying?" repeated
Arbitras.  "Withering, as you so carelessly allow my
children to wither in your world?"
         "Arbitras, please--"
cried Jasmine.
         "Very well," sighed
Arbitras.  "I will arrange a trade with you."
         Jasmine took a step
back. She didn't like the sound of that.  She knew
what Arbitras often asked for in exchange for one of his plants.
         Arbitras walked forward,
deliberately going slow to raise the tension in
the air.  His viney hands caressed Yesenia's young face. 
"Who is this one?"
he asked.
         Yesenia swallowed
hard but didn't cringe at Arbitras's touch.  She
looked him straight in the eye.
         "She's our daughter,"
said Aladdin.  "Her name is Yesenia."
         "Ah, she bears the
name of a flower as well."
         "Yes," acknowledged
Jasmine, placing a hand protectively on the little
girl's shoulder.  "Contrary to what you believe, we do
appreciate and
cherish your children, Arbitras."
         "She will be a fiery
and beautiful desert bloom," decided Arbitras,
letting his hand slide away from Yesenia's face.  "Surpassing,
perhaps, even
the standards set by her mother.  I will take her, and allow you
one of my
children.  The life of one of mine, for the life of one of yours."
         "No!" cried Jasmine. 
She sprang forward and jerked Yesenia against
her, holding the child hard against her chest.  "You won't take
her."
         "You've made your
decision then," said Arbitras.  He glanced at
Aladdin.  "I hope you won't miss her too much."  He turned
as if to leave.
         "Wait!" cried Aladdin.
         Jasmine's head jerked
up.  "Aladdin, no!"
         Arbitras turned back
toward Aladdin.  "Have you changed your mind?"
         Aladdin's eyes blazed
with anger.  "Don't make me choose one love
over another, Arbitras!"
         "Stop!" cried Yesenia. 
She pulled away from Jasmine's protective
embrace.  Holding her head high, she approached Arbitras. 
"I'll do it."
         "Yesenia, no!" protested
Jasmine.  "I won't give you up!"
         "Daddy will still
have my brothers," said Yesenia, tears in her eyes.  "And
I'll do it for my mother.  If this is the only way to save her
. . . let me do it.
Please."
         Aladdin's gaze moved
desperately from Jasmine, to Yesenia, to
Arbitras.  He said nothing.
         "We can't let her
do this," whispered Jasmine.  There were tears in her
eyes.  "This is my life we're battling for, and it's not important
enough to give
a child up for.  I'll never forgive you if you do, Aladdin. 
We've already lost a
baby . . ."  Her voice choked and she lowered her face into her
hands.  "Just
let me die . . ."
         Yesenia turned away
from Arbitras.  "She loves me," she murmured,
looking up at Aladdin as if hoping for assurance.  "She is
my mother."
         "Yes," said Aladdin
solemnly.  "She is.  And Jasmine."  He came up
from behind and put his hands on her shaking shoulders.  "We won't
allow
you to die.  Arbitras, there must be another way.  What about
my life?  My
life for hers?"
         Arbitras shook his
head.  "I have no interest in you, Aladdin.  You
don't have the right . . . artistry to integrate into my masterpieces."
         "Arbitras, you're
our only hope.  We need the Aquinta, only a small
piece of it will do," said Aladdin desperately.  "It's extinct
everywhere but
here--"
         "Whose fault is that?"
boomed Arbitras angrily.  "My children die
unnoticed, and no one tries to save them.  They don't even recognize
the
problem until the creation is completely destroyed.  The Aquinta's
extinction
in your world is all the more reason for me to be protective of it
in mine."
         "Wait!" cried Jasmine. 
Her head sprang up from the cradle of her
hands, an idea shining on her face.  "Arbitras, your creation
doesn't have to
be extinct!  Give us enough of the Aquinta to save me, and a bit
more.  We
will plant it, and allow it to live again!"
         Arbitras stroked his
beard thoughtfully.  "Will you keep your word?
Do you promise to nurture my child in your world, or will its slow
death
repeat itself once again?"
         "No," answered Jasmine. 
"I will plant the Aquinta first in my
menagerie.  Agrabah has the finest gardeners in the seven deserts,
Arbitras.
My mother saw to it before she died.  She loved flowers nearly
as much as
you do.  Let me do this for you, for me, and for her."
         Arbitras walked slowly
away from them until he stood before his own
bed of Aquintas.  He knelt over them, carefully caressing the
blue petals.  "A
world where my fragile children will thrive once more," he murmured. 
"How
precious . . . "  He stood and turned back to Jasmine.  In
his hand he held a
small Aquinta bud.  Its vines had taken root in his palm, and
he brought it
forward to show the humans.
         "The life of mine,"
he murmured, taking Jasmine's hand and guiding it
to gently touch the Aquinta's soft petals, "for the life of yours. 
Yes, I will do
it.  Take this child into your world.  It will give its life
to prevent the
extinction of the human who is so important to all of you.  But
before
sacrificing it, look here."  Arbitras carefully spread the tightly
clustered petals
to reveal a bed of tiny seeds.  "These children must be nurtured
and loved as I
would nurture and love them;  as you nurture and love Yesenia." 
He
extended his free hand in the child's direction.
         Jasmine opened her
hand to receive the plant which Arbitras lovingly
placed within her palm's cradle, as if he were tucking in a child. 
Covering
Jasmine's hands with his own, he pressed them closed around the flower
to
form a protective shell.  There were tears in Jasmine's eyes as
she raised them
to Arbitras's towering form.  "Thank you," she whispered. 
"I knew that you
understood."
         "I once told you,"
said Arbitras slowly, "that a brilliant artist has no
heart.  It was a lie.  My heart lies in my creations, my
children.  I simply had
no heart for human beings.  Even that, has changed."
         Jasmine smiled up
at him, but could find no words to express the
immense gratitude in her heart.
         Arbitras turned away
from them.  "Return to your world," he
commanded, his voice returning to its customary hard indifference. 
"And
keep your word."
         With that, he disappeared
into the protective shadows of the deepest
regions of his garden.

Back to index

Chapter 7: Chapter 6

Chapter 6

         Aladdin nervously paced
the halls of the east wing.  He alternately ran
his hand restlessly through his hair and fingered the collection of
Aquinta
seeds in his pocket.  He had relinquished the plant, after saving
the seeds, to
the palace physician.  For the past few hours, he had worked on
extracting the
medicine from the plants.
         "I wish he wouldn't
take so long," muttered Aladdin.
         Jasmine touched his
shoulder.  "Aladdin, you did all that you could.
Whatever happens now . . . isn't your fault."
         Aladdin turned toward
her.  "How can you remain so calm?  Your life
is at stake."
         Shrugging, Jasmine
said, "There isn't anything I can do about it,
Aladdin."
         Aladdin pressed his
hands against his forehead as if in pain.  "It has to
work, Jasmine.  I can't live without you."
         He found his way to
Jasmine's arms, and she held him tightly against
her.  He pressed his face into her shoulder and let her comfort
him, as he had
comforted her when she learned of the death of their daughter. 
"It'll be all
right," she promised.  "I'm still here now."
         "Daddy."  Yesenia's
voice tentatively interrupted the mood.  She had
entered from the west wing.  Aladdin quickly turned to her . .
. the news she
brought had the power to uphold or destroy him.
         "What is it, Yesny?"
         "She took the medicine
. . . and she wants to talk to you."
         Aladdin's heart leapt
with hope.  She was speaking again!  Surely, she'd
made it through the darkness.  He gave Jasmine's hand a squeeze. 
"I'll be
back soon," he promised, and left to follow Yesenia to her mother's
chambers.
 

         Jasmine was sitting
up in bed when he entered, and the room was
illuminated with multiple candles.  She smiled, and her face,
although still
thin, lit up with life.  "Aladdin," she whispered, her voice made
soft not with
fatigue, but with gratitude.
         He rushed forward
and grasped her in his arms, holding her tightly
against him.  She returned the embrace with equal enthusiasm. 
He kissed her
cheek and murmured, "Thank Allah," the words becoming lost in her hair.
         "Thank you,"
Jasmine said, drawing away from him.  "You were the
only one who could save me.  Yesenia told me about Arbitras, and
the
uncertainty you faced.  Thank you for not giving up."
         "We never would have,"
assured Aladdin.  "But don't thank me alone.
It was you, Jasmine, who struck the bargain with Arbitras.  And
Yesenia was
willing to sacrifice herself to Arbitras's artwork for you.  Never
doubt the
determination of those who love you."
         "I'll do the same
for you," promised Jasmine, "if you ever need it."
         Aladdin smiled, but
before he could say more, the curtains around
Jasmine's bed parted and Phasir entered.  "Forgive my intrusion,"
he began,
"but I've received word that your husband is on his way home."
         "Jasmine, everyone
thinks I'm home already," Aladdin reminded her.
         "When you left for
Arbitras's garden, I told the villagers and palace
staff that you had returned to Getsestan," explained Phasir. 
"They have not
yet seen you in Agrabah again."
         "Everything is taken
care of," stated Jasmine softly.  "And now, it's
time for you to return home."
         Reluctantly, Aladdin
began to rise.  "I wish I could have met Ali.
And I'm going to miss Yesenia," he admitted, "and Cassim.  We
have
beautiful children, Jasmine."
         "I know.  Don't
worry about them.  You'll see them again soon."
         "I guess you're right,"
realized Aladdin, smiling.  He wasn't leaving
permanently . . . in ten years, he'd be here again.  As he was
about to leave,
Jasmine touched his arm.
         "Wait," she commanded. 
"You've come from the past, and in your
future, this will happen again.  You must and will attend
the conferences . . .
and Jasmine will stay behind.  Make sure you take the Aquinta
to the past
with you, so Jasmine will have it on hand when the illness strikes
her."
         Aladdin nodded. 
"We made a promise to Arbitras to plant his flower
in our world.  When this happens again, the plant will not be
extinct.  It will
grow in your own menagerie."
         "Good."
         In the distance, they
could hear the approaching caravan.  "I guess
that's my cue to leave," commented Aladdin.  "But before I go,
let me ask one
question.  Why did the Lilithian Oasis have the power to transport
us here?"
         "Do you remember the
Sands of Time?  The ones that brought us to the
past to meet my ancestor Hamid?"
         Aladdin nodded. 
"But they are contained."
         "A small sampling
of them is contained.  The rest line the shore of
the Lilithian Lake, endowing it with incredible power . . . However,
unlike the
contained sand, it cannot be easily controlled.  To be transported
through the
Lilithian Oasis, one must be summoned.  And the summons must be
approved
by Fate himself.  Mine was, and you are here."
         "But not for much
longer," sighed Aladdin.  The caravan was well
within the city limits now.  He kissed Jasmine one last time and
finally left
her.  After finding Cassim and Yesenia, he and Jasmine said their
fare-wells
to them, trying hard not to become overly-emotional.  And then,
it was time
for them to return to their own Time, and fulfill their own Destinies.
 

         Hand in hand, Aladdin
and Jasmine stared at the shimmering Lilithian
Lake.  "Well," said Aladdin, "are you ready to go home?"
         "I'm not sure," admitted
Jasmine.  She looked up at Aladdin.  "I'm
going to miss Yesenia and Cassim . . ."
         "So will I," agreed
Aladdin.
        "And we never even got to
meet Ali," she said wistfully.
        Aladdin grinned.  "But
if I'm calculating correctly, it won't be long
before he does introduce himself into our lives."
         Jasmine couldn't return
his smile.  Although she'd come to love her
children, even the one she hadn't met,  she didn't anticipate
the future.
She couldn't chase the one shadow out of her mind, and she knew it
would cloud any upcoming joys.  "Aladdin, this isn't fair!" she
cried.
"When we go back, there will be no surprises.  Our lives have
already
been decided . . . Does it even matter what we do now?" She shook her
head.
"We shouldn't know so much . . . not yet . . ."
         Aladdin squeezed her
hand.  "You're right, Jasmine.  But at least we
share the burden of knowledge."
         Silence fell between
them.  Together, they slowly stepped into the still
lake . . .
 

        Jasmine was first to burst
out from beneath the water.  Regaining her
breath, she glanced to the still surface of the lake beside her, which
was soon
broken by Aladdin's emerging head.  He surveyed the oasis which
was
. . . exactly as it had been when they entered the pond.
         "Are you disappointed?"
asked Jasmine.
         "A little," admitted
Aladdin, although he felt silly for actually believing
something would happen.  The only thing that had changed was that
the moon
was higher in the sky, and more stars had appeared.
         "Well, we'll get a
good swim out of it," said Jasmine.  "The water is
wonderfully warm."
         "Yeah, a good swim,"
sighed Aladdin.  "What else did we expect?"

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Chapter 8: Epilogue

Epilogue

         It had grown late
by the time they returned home that night.  Jasmine
said she was unusually exhausted and went to her chambers immediately.
Aladdin, on the other hand, was unusually restless, and he spent
hours alone
in the dark solitude of the menagerie.
         He gazed up at
the endless black sky and thought about the life that
could lie before him . . . the life he shared with Jasmine. 
Who knows what
tomorrow will bring?  he wondered.  The
possibilities are as endless as the
stars . . .
         He shrugged, glad
he didn't know.  For if he did, precious times of
quiet spent in contented musings would be lost.
         Slipping his hands
into his pockets, he absently fidgeted with a
handful of small, round objects.  After fingering them for
a few moments,
curiosity drove him to pull them out of his pocket.
         He stared at the
tiny items.  In his palm was a collection of tear-
shaped seeds.  Although he'd never had any schooling in such
matters, he
knew immediately that, for some reason, these seeds were familiar.
         But why were
they in my pocket?  he wondered.  How did they get
there?
         Neither answer
was clear to Aladdin, but without knowing why, he
found a fertile, empty crop of land and bent over it.  With
utmost care, he
gently planted each of the fragile tears.  It was almost as
if he were laying
children to rest.
         The life of
mine, for the life of yours . . .
         It was as if Aladdin
had heard the words in a forgotten dream, and as
he rose from the plot of land, a strange pride built within him. 
At the same
time, a spasmodic shiver ran through his body.  Although he
couldn't explain
why, he knew that in the decision to plant the seeds a promise had
been
fulfilled, and a life saved.
 
The End

Thanks for sticking with it till the end! You can e-mail Sedeara at:
The_real_sedeara@yahoo.com
I'd love to hear from you!

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