"I wanted to say goodbye to you one more time."
But there’s no answer.
And it’s because Sinbad wanted to, but didn’t get the chance to. He never has, not with his family, his friends, there is never a chance for one more time. And to be honest, maybe it’s better that he doesn’t because what would he even say in that moment, knowing that it’s the last time.
The wood box before him is open, filled with a bed of white flowers and green stems, like his body has bloomed from it, covered in freshly pressed linen, hands folded serenely over his stomach. The magicians had worked for hours under Yamuraiha’s guidance (in direct, because she couldn’t bring herself to be in the room) to reconstruct him. They sewed skin and cleaned blood until he looked pristine and untouched, his keffiyeh fanned out underneath him, the gold plate on his forehead freshly shined. The even rewrapped his wires in delicate loops and folded his hands over the knives on Sinbad’s insistence that Ja’far would never be caught without his vessel.
Sinbad reaches a hand forward, tweaks the red jewel that sits above Ja’far’s brow, runs his fingertips over his cheeks and wills his chest not to heave.
The light grows dim as the sun falls and Sin knows that they will be coming soon, to carry the casket to the beach where the rest of the generals stand in their robes, heads bowed, where Yamuraiha will struggle to keep her composure and Masrur’s silence will hang heavier than ever. Where a group of blue haired children will huddle together behind their father and the people will stand, holding candles and singing songs of hope and light. They will push the boat, filled with him, into the water until the waves take it further from the island. And when it’s far enough that you can’t make out the details, an arrow will launch and set it alight. And when it grows further from sight, dimmer in the darkness, the crowd will start to dissipate, until only a few remain.
And the few will turn to one,
a king standing alone on the beach,
wanting to say goodbye one more time.
