Prologue

“One to Scheme, Two to Tangle”

~:: * ::~

The large, rectangular room lit from the lamps above, but it didn't help the dark, dreary atmosphere of the place. In the dead of night the fairly bright blue walls seemed to turn to a dark midnight. They were plain, smooth marble which didn’t gleam; with only one design of a brown mold that was in an 'x' pattern surrounding the top edges of the room. And the floors which were like a large checkerboard with dark blue and lighter blue tiles, hardly shined. It was practically barren, with only two adjustable tables below a strange contraption. Glass tubes circled up at least three times, connecting to a large circular container. Inside a thick, round, diamond shaped glass with two color strips going around it; the kind of design you would see in one of those old barber shop signs. And over in the right hand corner of the room there was a table, with nothing around it.

At this table stood a young man looking down at thick, old text. His right hand propped up his chin, the rough, brown fabric of the gauntlet rubbing against his pale skin. He was tall with broad shoulders, yet incredible skinny at the waist. He wore a satin, black cape with golden trim, with shoulders that pointed upwards. A silk, blue long sleeved tunic with rounded sleeves is seen underneath it; with the same design and same colored pants. A turban of blue, with a loose white band which came up to a diamond shaped crimson jewel sat on top of his head of curly, black hair. His eyes were halfway closed, and with a smile it gave him a sly expression. But his lips expressed a frown, as he concentrated at the book he was looking at.

A brown eel hovered over his shoulder, looking curiously with his large and small eye. His body slithered in place with a deep frown and his brows up high in question. From time to time he would look at his master before snooping back to the book.

“I wonder how well this works, Xerxes.” The boy mused aloud.

“Try and find out?” the brown eel replied.

The boy smiled cunningly, turning his head towards the eel.

“Yes, let's try it out now.” the young man began, closing the text. “Go and get the specimens.”

Giving out a wheezy cackle the eel flew away quickly, happy to do his master's bidding. The tall, young man who smiled like a fox was Mozenrath, Lord of the Black Sands. And once again he's up to his usual evil schemes. Well, perhaps not so usual. He might have been scouring the deserts for ancient artifacts of power and trying to kill a certain street-rat, but now it was more of a scheme for survival. After looking at the hourglass, he found he didn't have to much longer to go. Perhaps a week at the least. The power he bragged on so much had been slowly turning him into a corpse; but that would be changed very soon. Soon, he would have Aladdin's body and then his precious Jasmine and clown trope will have to find the Elixir of Life.

The thought of him in Aladdin's body made him feel disgusted; but at the same time he saw many possibilities that opened up to it. Oh, how he could mess with the minds of the hero's, especially Jasmine. He began to speculate Jasmine's reaction to knowing that he was in her wonderful fiancé’s body. Perhaps a gasp and a look of shock, first. Then followed by her almond-shaped doe eyes slowly going into anger. She'd huff, calling him a 'snake' and demand that he get out of her boyfriend's body. And maybe, if he still had Aladdin's voice, he could mess around with her feelings a little. It would give him a chance to kiss her while at the same time seeing her react to it. The endless fun he could have with the situation.

His attention soon turned when he heard gasps of air and sounds of struggling. Turning around he saw Xerxes flying in, pushing a brown wooden cart which had two cages sitting atop it. The first cage had a little, white mouse in it; running around franticly at the sight of the second cage. In the cage next to the mouse held a cat with a orange tabby, who eyed the mouse with calculating eyes. It didn't seem to care much about being in the cage being right next to dinner as far as it was concerned.

He walked over towards the cart, reliving Xerxes from having to push it as he moved it over towards the two slabs under the strange device. Adjusted the tables so they laid flat, he picked up the cat's cage first and placed it on the second table. Then he picked up the mouse's cage and placed it on the first. A red glow covered his gauntlet as he pointed his hand towards the cat. The feline's eyes got wide, as though it knew the danger it was facing and backed up to the edge of the cage; meowing out an out-of-tune sound. As the red and black magic flame erupted from the gauntlet, it hit the cage; causing it to bend a morph until it fit tightly around the cat's sitting figure.

Xerxes knocked the cage over with a grin and cackle, making sure it didn't roll away. The cat seemed to blink in confusion and meowed quietly. Mozenrath turned over towards the mouse and sent another shoot of magic at it's cage. It shrunk to an incredible small size, keeping the little guy from moving around. He pushed the cart away from the table, staying a few feet away. Xerxes darted over to him, to float over his shoulder.

“Let the transference begin!”

As Mozenrath commanded, the two tubes lowered onto the animal's head; or in the case of the mouse onto it's entire being. The glass ball inside the center of the connecting tubes began to spin at a furious speed. As it did this, a strange, brown, glowing energy began to come out of the mouse; going up the twist and turns of the tubes till it filled the first swirling , dark-green stripe in the glass ball. Once the energy stopped coming out of the mouse, the same thing happened with the cat as a dark magenta swirled up into the tubes. Once the energy stopped from the cat's side, the brown energy began to exit the swirling strip and down onto the cat; just as the dark magenta energy went down onto the mouse. When it was done, the tubes lifted up.

“Did it work?” Xerxes asked, looking at his master.

“Only one way to find out...” Mozenrath replied, bringing his glowing, gauntlet hand and shooting two bolts at the mouse and cat's cage.

The cages disappeared in a stream of smoke; the mouse stayed still while the cat hurried to get back on it's feet. The two creatures looked at each other questionable, still trying to rack their brains with what just happened to them. And as they looked for a minute or so, mouse chatter came out of the cat; it's nose moved and wrinkled the scrawny face. And the mouse meowed. Fear seemed to wash over the cat, turning pale as a sheet at the little white mouse. It quickly jumped off the table, squealing in horror as the mouse followed; jumping off the table to chase the cat. Even though their souls had switched, they seemed to act as though they were in the same body as before.

Mozenrath smiled while letting out dark laughter while the two animals chased themselves out of the room.

“Perfect.” He started off in a sinister tone. His simper grin helped the malicious glint in his eye as he held his hands together. “Now that I know this little device works, I can go to Agrabah and grab my new body! Well, for the most part anyway.”

His familiar looked at him strangely. “What you mean by that?” Xerxes asked.

With his gauntlet hand he started to pet Xerxes, his grin going into a smirk.

“You'll soon see Xerxes; You'll see...”

Mozenrath turned around, and headed out the door. The buzzing thoughts of what lied tomorrow made him fell good, but his body was different story. He felt tired and weak, though he was sure staying up so late didn't help that. Once he rested he'd feel better. Tomorrow would be a very big day for him, and he would need his energy to get through it. He created a magic portal in front of him and appeared with Xerxes back into his room. Xerxes flied straight over towards one of the round, silk, midnight blue pillow that laid atop his bed. He curled up with a smile and closed his eyes. He could never understand how the eel was able to fall asleep so fast.

Taking off his turban, Mozenrath set it on a table, as well as taking his black robe off and hanging it on a post. Undoing the satin covers he sat down, taking off his black boots. As he sat up he looked to his right hand which wore the gauntlet. It gave so much power but took just as much away. Shaking the thoughts off, he got into bed and pulled the covers up to him. He didn't need his mind to start thinking, he needed to rest. There would be time for thoughts when he would be as good as new so he could figure out a way to fix his gauntlet. He closed his eyes, laying awake while his eyes stared into the darkness of his lids as he waited to drift off into sleep.

~:: * ::~

A deep laughter bellowed from the old man. His clothes were similar to Mozenrath's; silk midnight blue long robes that went to the floor. The black robe with golden trim had curved downward, but still came to a point, and finally the turban on his head. He was old, possible in his sixties but surprisingly didn't look feeble. He had a medium frame with long coarse white hair that frayed, and sunken in eyes and a crooked nose. He was strapped to a pair of wall shackles, and a trickle of blood was coming from his nose. He laughed gleefully in his low, baritone voice; something Mozenrath didn't hear often.

“Well played, boy.” Destane began, with a wicked smile. “I am truly amazed.”

“You won't be so smug once I'm through with you!” Mozenrath shouted back.

Back then the garments he wore were not so rich. A cream, linen tunic with brown pants and black, cotton sash that tied around his waist. Hung over that was a green, canvas apron which felt rough against his skin even with linen between it. A pair of worn, brown sandals on his feet, which made him feel disgusted as the bottom of his feet stayed constantly dirty. The only thing familiar on him was his gauntlet, which was glowing that shade of crimson red. His smooth, black curls fell into his face easily with no turban to hold them back. As he stared spitefully at his master, the old man only let out another dark chuckle.

“Smug? No, boy you are preserving wrong. I'm not being smug; after all you have beat me. I am simply...proud.”

“Proud because you're own student is better than you?” He folded his arms as Mozenrath gave Destane his own smug grin.

“The truth is sometimes a funny thing.” Destane replied with a wily expression, “You were always smarter than my other students; with an ambition that rivals my own. I really shouldn't be surprised at all this.”

“Considering what you've done to me, you really should have expected.” the young boy added in hatefully. “Did you think I wouldn't figure out what you were really up to? Why you were teaching me? It might have been a good idea when I was a kid to build me up just to take my power and body away from me, but with all that you've done to me it's only made me wiser to your schemes!”

“And look at what it has made you,” the old man said in awe, “Much like the lioness that throws their cub into the pit to test them, you have come out victorious every, single time. I've put you through every dangerous, death defying task I could imagine but never did you die. You got through it and became stronger. And at your age your intelligence has almost reached mine. Truthfully, when I would have taken your life away I knew I was going to be a little sad inside; because you remind me so much of myself. I think this is what a father tends to feel about his son.”

Mozenrath sneered. Never in eternity did he want to be compared to this man. He's better than Destane; he had beaten him with his own abilities, taken away his gauntlet- and soon, he would have his kingdom. But he couldn't help but feel awkward. His master was always serious; always talking in a monotone voice. Anytime he had succeeded in some task his master would just say 'Very good' like he had only washed the dishes or some type of mundane, uninteresting task. He never showed anger, unless he had disobeyed which he did not do often. And far more interested in his work than anything else, never stopping to do anything but eat or sleep.

But now a time he felt his master would begin to show rage, he instead showered him with praise, laughing, and smiling at his success. This had to be a coy, he couldn't be serious. It's the old man's last-ditch effort to win. And like he would let him win this time.

“I am nothing like you!” Mozenrath said in a ominous tone. “And I am not your son. I hate you in every way possible!”

“Blind hatred usually makes you what you hate. No matter what you may think, we are one and the same, you and I. So for my last lesson, I will say this: Destroy my gauntlet. Don't make the mistake of using it; get rid of it as soon as you get rid of me.”

Mozenrath raised a brow, his expression showing pure malice. “You'd like that, wouldn't you old man? Not letting me have your power!”

Suddenly, Destane turned back to normal. His brows were furrowed as he looked at Mozenrath seriously; his eyes showed hardships and the knowledge that came with it. And he spoke in his usual manner, deep and mono-toned.

“You would be better off with your own than the power inside that glove. That thing will only bring you pain and misery the like's you've never seen!”

Mozenrath smiled, the hatred still plastered on; giving him a dark, menacing aura that hasn't been matched since then. He raised his hand, his gauntlet still glowing wildly as he took a few steps towards the old man. When he spoke he did it slowly, like venom was dripping from his mouth.

“Exactly what I was thinking for you.”

~:: * ::~

 “Wake up!!!”

The young lord felt something pushing up against his cheek, and only being half-awake he tried to swat whatever disturbed him. His eel familiar gasped and backed off, waiting for his master's hand to stop. Feeling nothing hovering over his face, Mozenrath put his hand back down on his stomach. Xerxes, seeing the opening, went back down and bite into the collar of his top blue rob, and started to pull his master's body up.

“Waaaayyyyyke uuuuuuaaaapppp!” He shouted, his voice being mumbled by the shirt in his mouth.

Inch by inch the eel managed to get his entire upper torso up in an acute angle above the bed. His right arm hung from his body as his head leaned down towards the left; which caused his mouth to open a little. But as Mozenrath felt the world tilt, it wasn't a keen feeling. As his eyebrows furrowed just as he almost sat up he grabbed onto Xerxes quickly with his left arm; causing the eel to gasp and choke.

“Go away!” Mozenrath exclaimed groggily as he threw Xerxes hard at the wall.

The familiar hit the wall with a loud splat and grunt as he almost turned into a eel pancake before sliding down the wall slowly. Still sitting up, Mozenrath began to rub the dust out of his eyes while his eyelids opened and blinked. He stretched his arms out as he shook his slumber out of his system. He scratched his head only briefly as he pulled himself out of bed. His body may have been screaming at him to go back, but he had a busy day.

He got himself ready; he didn't get up as early as he hoped he would. His body needed more rest than he anticipated. But being a little late to rising wasn't going to kill him today. Dressed in a pair of fresh clothing after washing, he grabbed his black robe from the post and put it on. Afterward he grabbed his turban and made his way over to the mirror in his room and put it on; adjusting it to make sure any annoying strands were in the way. Hopefully if his plan went accordingly, this wouldn't be the last time he saw himself like this.

As Xerxes flew over to his shoulder, he crossed his arms, putting on a large, cunning smile as he looked himself in the mirror.

“Today is going to be a good day."

~:: * ::~