Rise of the Eastern Sun
 

Name: Yang Li
http://i903.photobucket.com/albums/a...psowjfkwee.jpg
Age: 26
Rank: 1st prince, general
Appearance: Around 5'9" in height, he's slender but strong in appearance. As a warrior, he has a hardened look and maintained muscle, but overall, he's got a chinese look with the smaller frame, sharp, delicate features, and narrowed eyes of the race. Eyes are dark with an almost golden hue. His hair is long, mid-back at least. Part of it would typically be tied back, often with a knot at the back of his head. A ribbon or other accessory might be tied into it when formal. The hair is parted so part of sits over one shoulder and just into his face.
As a prince, he's lush in appearance, even on the battlefield. His weapons have gilt, his uniform that above the average soldier. And of course, at the palace, he is dressed according to rank.
Hair
Personality: A serious and greedy man, he longs for the power necessary to rule his country justly and completely, without waver. With little room for superstition, he's grown quickly out of boyhood and wonder under the mantle of first prince. And yet he is startled by the youthfulness of others and wishes to protect that naivety that lets one dream and fight for it. As much as he views Yang Zhen as incompetent and unfit to be a ruler, he thinks the boy might save them all. It makes him envious and protective, but always distant.
He's a natural commander and gives orders easier than takes them. He's a good planner and smart, but because of his hubris, he rarely takes other's advice into account and tends to storm off to do things as he wishes. Would prefer to reach his goals using his own hands than those of his servants. He accepts orders only from his father and to the emperor, he shows the utmost respect.


The Yang Family:
Emperor- Yang Hua
1st Empress- Yang Ming (Li and Zhi's mother) -deceased-
2nd Empress- Yang Fumei (Fen, Zhen, and Julan's mother)
Princesses-
Yang Zhi (24) image
Yang Fen (21) image
Yang Julan (12) image

The Yang family's crest is a silver dragon with one blue and one red eye.

http://40.media.tumblr.com/46fe9e7d2...w3vo1_1280.png
Names: Bassam
Age: 116 human years (roughly 24 for a jinni)
Physical appearance: While Bassam enjoys decorating himself with intricate jewelry, he cares less about fashion and more about what looks pretty. Consequently, whatever clothes he conjures or steals are always mismatched. His skin is deep brown but grows violet when performing magic, especially his fingertips, face, and chest. Thick eyebrows juxtapose a clean-shaven scalp. Six foot flat with broad shoulders, Bassam likes to believe he cuts an intimidating presence despite lacking the sorcery for spectacular grandstanding. He prefers presenting himself in a human versus horned or animalistic form.
Personality: Facetious on principal, there is incredibly little Bassam handles with sincerity. Quick wit, a sharp tongue, and curiosity found him more trouble than anything. Albeit he'd never complain. He enjoys frustrating people and pulling pranks. Underneath his aloof nature, Bassam's terrified of losing control over his life. Being bound to a ring has left him anxious, volatile, and fearful. Once a powerful jinni, he lost most of his abilities to being dormant for decades. His primary goal is freeing himself after regaining enough strength. Second to that is punishing the human who first bound him. Beyond that, Bassam only wants a life completely his own.

Name: Ammon
Age: 17
Occupation: Spy and scout of a small mercenary company, headed by his sister.
Appearance: Unconfident in his looks, Ammon layers baggy tunics, pants, and cloaks to distort his bony figure. He has a favorite blue tunic, a gift from his mother, that he nearly never removes. All of his clothes are well-worn and plain. While years of mercenary work have built muscle, living in poverty kept him lean. Thick curls of black hair frame an oval face of soft features while several moles embellish it. The outer corner of his eyes are blurred by full, long lashes. Ammon's tawny skin is contrasted by three pink scars across his shoulder, stomach, and lower back. At five foot seven inches (five foot four inches with bad posture) he presence is underwhelming.
Personality: With a kind mother but stern older sister, Ammon struggles to reconcile his innate passion and desire to be stoic. He wants desperately to impress his sister, yet only succeeds in disappointing himself. At his core, Ammon is an idealist who believes everyone is capable of doing good. If he had more integrity, he'd argue that using force of any kind is immoral. However he feels pressured to sacrifice morality in favor of providing for himself and his family. Ammon can be hot-headed, stubborn, patient, and a perfectionist.

Ammon's Family:
Mother: Mahtab (49)
Father: Farrohk (Deceased)
Older Sister: Elham (22)

(I'll have a drawing of Ammon up soon, sorry!)

The thunder of a half dozen horses shook the palace courtyard. From the front, Yang Li yanked up his reins to pull the straining animal to a stop. Behind him, the rest of his warriors skid to a stop, all looking in varying states of worn. The body of Wu Tian hung over his brother's horse, staining the white hide pink. Yang Li's normally calm face was set with a grim line.

"Prince Yang Li! Why did you run off so suddenly? What is this?!" one of his generals exclaimed as he pushed past the household staff. In the distance, he caught the empress' eye from behind the heavy wood columns of the palace entrance. He looked away a second later. This should have been easy. The temple should have been abandoned, a relic from a forgotten child's tale. His knuckles turned white against the reins before he forced himself to jump down and let someone lead his stallion away. The early evening light caught on the ring now adorning his left hand, the cause of all his current pain. Never mind the torn sleeve of his tunic fluttering in the wind. Without a doubt, he must consider this campaign a failure.

Ignoring the questions of his three day ride into the lower regions of Yang Empire's newly acquired land, the prince retired to his private quarters to finally sort this all out. He learned of the temples abandoned by another culture from nomadic tribes. Their leader came to speak with his father, the emperor, and Yang Li made the acquaintance of one of their story tellers. Normally, he found little patience for tales, but something about that one caught his interest. The story teller mentioned treasures beyond his wildest dreams, laying forgotten right under his feet. Magical beings. He scoffed at the time, but the region indeed was unexplored and he decided if riches lay there, he might as well.

Unfortunately, Yang Li found them, but he wasn't the only one. Cursing in his head, he threw off his torn outer garments. The attendants that followed him into his quarters began to flutter, their eyes on his cut forearm, but Yang Li waved them off. "Ready the bath and leave!" he commanded. More than anything, he needed to be alone now. Right after his group found rooms full of gold and relics, bandits surrounded the ruins. Outnumbered almost ten to one, it looked grim until Yang Li remembered the storyteller's word. 'In the deepest room where even torches can't reach, you'll find the jinni, trapped in a simple gold ring.' In that moment, even if he didn't believe in magic, he found himself running for the ring he saw earlier.

When he put it on, a force knocked him back so strong that even the torches went out. When he reoriented himself, there were no more enemies to fight. At the last second, he saw a face that looked nothing like his own before the torches flickered back to life again. Ignoring the gold, he and his warriors escaped the cursed temple. Yang Li kept the ring though.

Now, he looked down at the thing as he sat on his bed. Somehow, some way, a jinni resided in this little thing. "Jinni!" he commanded. "I order you to show your face!"

To absolutely no one's surprise, living inside a ring for the better part of a century was dull. Incredibly dull. When once Bassam knew endless expanses of sky, sea, and land, he had been confined to- well. There was no way of describing what the inside of a ring felt like. It was like being pushed inwards on all sides while one's eyes were glued shut. It was like shrinking into nothing. But despite not being able to stretch his legs, what threatened to break him was the nothingness. As years then decades ticked by, Bassam only had his thoughts for company. And despite being the most intriguing creature he knew, the jinni could only keep from recycling ideas for so long. And when it became impossible to distract himself from the fact that he had no idea how to free himself, he became fearful.

Zafir, the man who'd bound him, had lost the ring. Or that was the only conclusion Bassam could come to. What he knew for certain was that someone had to be wearing the ring for him to have any awareness of what happened outside his prison. To escape it, he had to be summoned. No one had done either for a very long time. Bassam almost drove himself wild with hope that someone simple he could intimidate into destroying the ring would pick it up.

Of course he had no such luck. When his eyes finally opened, when the limits of his world exploded into the real, tangible world, who wore his ring but a general? Or someone important- those were very nice clothes. Tricking a competent man would be harder. But making it painfully obvious that he himself was an ally worth having? Simple enough. Even though he could not physically leave the ring yet, casting a spell was easy. What Bassam assumed were enemy forces spilling into the room were a perfect warm-up. Some fifty years of pent-up energy surged out, obliterating every bandit in a clean, grim halo. If he had overdone it a little and knocked someone back by accident that was there own fault.

Countless different emotions ran through Bassam on the trip back to wherever Giggles (Bassam's nick name for his new benefactor) had come from. First was unadulterated elation. Finally- security! He wasn't damned to an eternity of wasting away. Next was fascination; he'd never seen dress nor buildings following such fashions as the people he traveled with. Fear, anger, relief all followed in cycles. What if he was tossed into some dingy jewelry box? Bassam was not going to spend another second suffering as he had. Gods, though, was he grateful for even the slightest reprieve.

Schooling his rampant emotion was difficult, but Bassam managed as Giggles stripped himself of company and removed himself to his room. In any other circumstance, Bassam would be drinking in his surroundings, enjoying the lavish decorations. Albeit a tension rigged his focus to the other man. Freedom, at least a sense of it, was moments away. All Bassam needed was to be summoned.

Which he was, in no merry tone.

"Really," the jinni purred, disguising his mixed exuberance and apprehension with practiced nonchalance "no thank you?"
He took his time coming out. Plumes of smoke poured from the ring, falling to the floor then rolling up towards the ceiling in a long stretch before forming the beginning of a human figure. This was a moment he wanted to savor. "Maybe you're not used to thanking anyone," he mused as the last wisps of vapor formed hands and feet. "Are you royalty?"

Yang Li startled when the jinni appeared just as he commanded, the smoke horrible like something from a nightmare. So such magic really did exist. He gave the ring a sour look before narrowing his eyes just the slightest bit. "A thank you? I think not. If not for an errant tale of treasure, I would not be in such a place in the beginning," he bit out. Though calm and polite, his tone nonetheless held the threat of pain. His hand clenched against his leg as an image of Wu Tian's body flashed in his mind. Unless something came of the jinni, the entire campaign failed for this reason alone.

Pulling himself to his feet once again, Yang Li appraised the strange man with eyes that said magical being or no, he was an ant to next to the prince. "Royalty you ask?" He huffed before a haughty grin painted his face. "I am Yang Li, eldest son of the emperor that rules this great nation to which even the sun belongs to! I found and now wear this ring. Does that mean you also belong to me, jinni?"

And who pursued "an errant tale", hmm? thought Bassam. He was getting the impression that this human never accepted responsibility for anything. It was clear Giggles considered himself highly. Some of the men Zafir commanded were similar- had that cold confidence. Though Bassam noted a comparative lack of cruelty in the young man before him. At least he wanted to note, for his own sake. If this was the man he would be serving next, Bassam preferred he be a decent man. The jinni continued listening as he drifted idly through Prince Yang Li's room (his nick name was so much better). A small smile cracked Bassam's mask of indifference. He liked proud people, they were fun. Very easily disgruntled.

"Not as such," he answered with a nod, turned away from the other to inspect particularly handsome statues. He'd never belong to anyone again, ever. "What it does mean is that you and I could strike a deal. Are you familiar with such contracts, or do people usually give you anything you want, no argument?" Bassam glanced over his shoulder, one eyebrow raised.

Yang Li watched the jinni for a second. He said nothing about the creature's interest in his room, or his wandering while he spoke though he would normally consider that rude. He used the moment instead to observe and think over his answer. The jinni didn't seem like a tricky sort of being. Yang Li would be cautious regardless, but at the moment, he saw only gain not threats. "A deal?" he asked, the curiosity clear in his voice. He didn't know how jinni's worked, only that the storyteller told him the being wielded otherworldly powers. He also said Yang Li would own it with the ring, but that did not seem to be the case.

Huffing, he followed the jinni across the room, keeping them face to face. "Do you mean to belittle me? Jinni or not, I won't forgive such a thing. I am not so conceited that I've turned incompetent!" he snapped. "Now, tell me how a contract with such as you works. I know nothing of jinnies."

"It's 'jinn', actually," corrected Bassam. He probably shouldn't have been aggravating the person who could lock him back up, but his good mood eclipsed precaution. Besides, it had been a very long time since he had the opportunity to rib anybody. Were human voices always this pleasant? Were all humans this pretty up close? Maybe Bassam had not yet grasped the extent of his own loneliness.

"But yes, the contract," he continued in fruity tones. "Essentially, we make an agreement to help one another. A 'you rub my feet I rub yours," sort of thing." He reclined mid-air, hands folded behind his head, as if explaining something dull and vaguely remembered. "What are you most in need of, Yang Li? What would you have a majestic supernatural being do? I can be a soldier, a guard, a friend- I can even grant wishes, if that pleases you.
"In return, you destroy that-" Bassam eyed the cursed glint of gold round the prince's finger, "at the end of my service to you. We would then part ways. Does that interest you?" The jinni prayed it would, not knowing what to do if Yang Li refused and simply tossed the ring away.

Ignoring the comment about jinn--he didn't really understand the correction anyway--Yang Li continued to watch the jinni. He seemed overly casual for such a situation, but then, most people looked casual next to him. What a strange creature though. Yang Li couldn't help but shiver a little at the thought of what this being could do with apparently no effort, just floating like that.

"...So that's how it works..." he murmured to himself. It sounded less convenient than he thought, but also exactly the sort of thing that Yang Li preferred. Equal contracts with set rules pleased him. And yet...what did he wish for? He turned his head up toward the ceiling where silvery blue and lavender satins draped in lieu of doors in the open chambers of his room. Did he not have everything? He dropped his eyes as his hand clenched around some ephemeral thing.

"No, that's not right. You could give me power?" Yang Li asked as his eyes met the jinni's once again. "I'm not yet emperor, but one day I will be and might have need of you. And all I have to do is destroy the ring?" One eyebrow quirked up at what seemed a strange trade to him.

"That's all you have to do," affirmed Bassam. Anxiety bubbled up from his belly from fear of being stowed away again. The idea of explaining his predicament to Yang Li was tempting. Maybe out of the kindness of his impossibly warm heart, the prince would sympathize and just let Bassam go. But when did militant men give up any chance of power? Wasn't it more likely that Yang Li would coerce him? A never-ending Do-As-I-Say-Or-Back-Into-The-Void-You-Go existence? No, the deal would have to be made then.

"Is it wise to just sit on such an opportunity, Prince?" Bassam focused on pushing the contract. "Jinn like me live a very long time- I blink and babies become bearded old men. So the length of my service to you should be of no concern. And from how I understand it, you humans are always fighting over kingdoms, empires, shiny things. If your homeland is as great as you've described, then it is coveted. Mark my words, your battle to keep your lands will begin long before you become emperor."

Bassam folded his arms, dipping his head in a note of unintended gravity. "I am an ally worth having, Yang Li."

Yang Li considered the proposal for only one more second. "Very well, you indeed sound like an ally worth having," he conceded. "I will make this deal with you." It never felt like a question. He could use this jinni, now or in the future. Looking over him once again, he contemplated the sort of person this jinni was. It was hard to tell. Infuriating he might be perhaps, but it felt like far too long since Yang Li conversed with anyone outside of his country or political meetings.

Turning away, he strode across his room just to be in motion. His attendants would return soon, telling him the bath was ready. He started to pull off his heavy riding outer clothes since he felt comfortable enough around the jinni. He turned back after dumping the clothes on his bed without care. "So what does this mean? If it is a contract, it must be signed I assume. In what way I wonder?" He almost snorted, holding back a sarcastic answer to his own question. "I don't even know what all you can do."

Bassam gave his first real smile. Excellent, Giggles was reasonable, if calculating. The appraising once-over was noted and returned by Bassam. He found the human's thoughtfulness complimentary to his own curiosity. They would work nicely together, or at the very least not want to throttle each other. Small mercies he thought.

"Ah, yes," Bassam yawned loudly while cracking his back. "I can take different forms, grant wishes, possess people- once I sneezed and someone caught fire. Oh- if your partial to party tricks, I can even refill cups. A great way to make friends, really," he rubbed his chin with a thumb in pseudo contemplation. Tired of floating, Bassam draped himself across Yang Li's bed, plucking at the other's clothes to inspect them. They were even more fine up close. Maybe he'd conjure some of his own, or just borrow whatever was lying around. Royalty were so wealthy, they usually didn't notice one or two things vanishing.

"As for the contract," he drawled, "some blood will do. Or an eyeball, a finger, locks of hair, your first born-"

Yang Li's eyebrow raised just slightly. Such power. He liked to consider himself a reasonable man, but hearing what a jinni could do churned the wheels in his imagination. Not far mind you, but enough to make him wonder just how far he could go with a jinni on his side. Daydreaming was for other men though. He pulled his garments away from the jinni's hands, a bit disgusted to have some strange being inspecting even his outer clothes. It was rude! He kept back his biting words though and smoothed his face back into something calm as he re-draped the clothes on his bed where they would not get wrinkled. "Please refrain from touching my things unnecessarily."

With that, he turned back to the jinni, completely unable to tell if he spoke seriously or in jest. "Stop!" he growled, unable to listen to the list anymore. Yang Li yanked a small knife from his boot, determination written on his face. In one swift movement, he cut the palm of his hand, the droplets running down his fingers and onto the ring there. He never once winced. "Is this good enough for you? I happen to be in a hurry right now."

"Touchy," sang Bassam, replacing his hands behind his head and rolling on his back. So much for borrowing his clothes. He had never met someone this fussy! Well, of course the first son of an emperor wouldn't be used to anyone poking around his room or belongings. There were so many nerves ripe for stepping on! Bassam enjoyed cracking Yang Li's mask of formality; he made this funny frown that Bassam found very charming.

"Y-Yes," the jinni stuttered, surprised by Yang Li's discipline. Something like respect pinged in his chest, but with routine ease he pushed it back. "Let me just-" with a wave of his hand, all spilled blood rushed into the ring. Bassam uttered arcaic syllables inherited from his ancestors, making his tongue taste bitter. From his words and the prince's blood, a precious maroon stone took shape on the ring. "There," he said, turning away and closing his eyes (anything ritualistic made him dizzy). "Now we are inseparable until such a time that our contract is satisfied. I hope you don't snore, Yang Li."

Yang Li eyed the ring with intrigue. Turning it this way and that, he watching the blood act as blood never should. What language did the jinni speak to make this happen? Before he could ask, a flurry of motion outside of his quarters pulled his attention away. Yang Li looked sharply toward the entrance, past the beams of light coming from behind the bamboo shades. His attendants were here.

"Inseparable? Lovely," he commented without thought, not listening well to the words the jinni spoke. "Can you disappear now? Back in the ring? Turn to smoke or however you please. I just have no intentions of sharing this just yet." Clenching the hand with the ring on it, he turned to greet the entry. It would only be a few seconds more. Throwing all of his trust to his jinni, Yang Li turned his back like he knew his wish would be carried out, but secretly he still prayed inside. Would they see a strange being floating in the air, or just the prince, standing as firm as ever?

"Chu Lan! Wu Yen! Is my bath ready?" he called to the approaching slippered footsteps.

If Bassam had been looking, he'd have been pleased that Yang Li took such an interest in his handiwork. Impressing humans with magic was a hobby the jinni found fun. It made him feel powerful, appreciated. But he hadn't seen, and therefor only heard the other.
"How you wound me," me murmured noncommittally, but complied anyways. Devoid of all interest in returning to the ring, Bassam rolled up and off the bed. He landed on four silent paws, an umber cat, trailing violet smoke behind him. An attractive puddle of sunlight across the room beckoned him, so he padded over towards it and settled down.

Ah he thought, observing his dull coat, I intended something a little more flashy. He thought about it some more and realized that the transformation itself had taken longer than what he was capable of fifty years ago. Before Zafir's vanishing, Bassam could take any shape in rich detail within the blink of an eye. No smoke, no residual magic. Just out of practice, he reasoned, though the discovery unsettled him. Was it possible to lose power? Bassam took his abilities for granted. In all his life, not even the concept of weakness had crossed his mind. This. This was not good.

The two young woman entered the room, both bowing deeply so that they missed the last of the violet smoke. The one with the rounder face and full lips spoke first--Wu Yen. "Yes prince Li. Did your campaign go well?" The woman looked up with expectant eyes. He only hummed in answer. It seemed too soon to tell.

"I-I see..."

The attendants eye trailed to something behind him and Yang Li glanced over, catching sight of the cat. A smile quirked up one side of his lips, but he offered nothing in answer to the woman's silent question. His smile confused her more and Yang Li really didn't mind. "Very well then. See that my clothing is properly mended. And-" he paused, already part way out the room. "Inform my sisters and brother that I will not dine with them tonight. Bring something here then leave. I have something I must attend to later."

"Understood!" Chu Lan exclaimed before ushering the other woman out and disappearing herself. Yang Li sighed in their absence. No doubt Wu Yen waited for news about her older brother. He could not bring himself to say it though. A second later, he strode away with the same sure steps as always, his hesitation not visible to any but the most observant eye.

From his place across the room, Bassam looked on with interest. Anything to take his mind off of his troubles, really. The women attending Yang Li seemed timid, which made little sense because who was more approachable than Giggles? Especially when he was so succinct. Bassam wondered how many people ran around, following this or that order of the prince. Excluding himself now, it seemed.

As Yang Li made his way out, Bassam drifted in his wake a few feet behind. Part of the jinni felt tempted to follow after the women instead, since he figured they'd pet him. Maybe he would have charmed them into receiving a bowl of milk or even lamb. But from his limited experience with contracts, he figured it was wise to keep tabs on his human. Bassam was interested in what princely duties Yang Li was disposed to, at any rate.

Milk, lamb, and fawning could always wait.

At first, Yang Li didn't notice the cat following him. He intended with his order earlier that the jinni get out of sight and stay that way, in another form or not. However, they were in the halls now and it would do not to make a scene here, so he simply let the creature follow him all the way down the hall to a cavernous open room with pillars set in a circular formation. There, a voice paused his step.

"Brother!"

Yang Li turned to see a young girl rushing down the path from the garden, her delicate fingers hidden in billowing teal and gold sleeves. His oldest sister walked behind, a wearing a less formal hanfu for the evening. "Julan, even if he's your brother, you must not forget your respects. "Evening brother Li," Yang Zhi said, turning her attention to the older male with her speech formal. He nodded his head back in acknowledgement.

"Excuse me sisters. I plan to bathe and retire early. Have a good night." With that, he slipped into the bath which some might consider a miniature lake. Warm steam rose off the top of it like a fog. The appearance of his sisters couldn't have been better. For a second, Yang Li let a smirk cross his face before the door slammed shut behind him, barring the jinni cat from entry. Julan pounced a second later. No doubt, the girl would keep the being very occupied for a while.

Colorless rays of sun pushed through an open door of Yang Li's bedchamber. Outside, Bassam was practicing his magic in a secluded corner of the courtyard. Not wanting to attract too much attention, he focused on changing the color of his paws as he had slipped into a cat form before stepping outside. Maybe if he started small, with the basics, all dormant magic would flood back. Like learning to walk on land after years out at sea. Toddler steps and all that- or was it children steps? No, that sounded too strange. Bassam never understood human expressions, but there he was distracting himself with them anyways. The jinni looked down at two poorly formed purple paws in distaste. With a hiss, a twitch of his tail, and some readjusting, Bassam refocused on his spell work.

---------

"Wake up, Ammon." The soft sound of a foot meeting someone's backside. "Wake up."

Heavy-lidded eyes flung wide open as a boy shot upright. He was startled, fumbling for a dagger beneath his bedroll.

"I'm awake, I'm awake, what is it?" he gasped. An unimpressed woman looked down on him. Her brawny stature dominated the tent even as it had her bending just so. "Oh," he mumbled, "Elham."

"We're leaving in a half hour," she said coolly.

"What! Why didn't you wake me earlier? I-"

"It's dawn, this is early," she ground out. "Be quick." With that, she turned outside into a drowsy campsite.

From the dark, Ammon wagered it was actually an hour or two before sunrise. His sister had grown increasingly restless as their mercenary band neared the Yang empire. While their comrades swapped tales of foreign monsters, sorcerers, and... other bawdier subjects, Elham became terse, hardly laughing or speaking. Whether she was questioning the conditions of their employment he did not know. Weeks ago they had argued extensively over the morality of it- kidnapping? That was indecent, subterfuge- stealing even. Not that the target being a prince made it a safe venture. What did they know of their employer? Elham would share nothing.
Still, it seemed that the only one bothered was Ammon. He was usually the only one to argue with his sister, even when his existence was spent trying to please her. When he approached his companions, not a single one would question their leader. It both inspired and infuriated Ammon.

He shrugged on his tunic and shalwar kameez over it before crawling out into the morning. Blue light lifted up from a dark, wavy horizon. Camels snorted as sleepy figures woke them. Bread was being passed in a circle with some quiet humming and groggy smiles. As Ammon gathered his belongings, he thought on their commission further. It was for their friends and family Elham had taken the job, he knew. No one among them had seen so much coin as was being offered. Everyone had families, some children. When Elham thought he was sleeping, Ammon heard his sister's own wishes for the money. She always spoke to him when she thought he was asleep. "We'll open a shop," she'd whisper, "or find you a tutor. Or both. I have no mind for anything beyond business but you do. I won't have you risking your life like this for a moment longer than needed."

He wished there was a way to show her this is what he wanted. Ammon needed to prove that he was capable, that he could be by Elham's side. Nothing mattered to him more than family.

Within fifteen minutes the camp cleared and set out. There weren't enough camels for everyone so Ammon and two others traveled on foot. Part of him felt that he'd been picked out for how poorly he'd secured their supplies last time he was entrusted with a mount. Because of his incompetence they lost a good deal of water and coffee. To balance it out, Ammon received a good deal of grief and jabs.

"They're growing far too bold," Yang Li insisted for the ears of the other generals. Their council started early that morning and into the afternoon. No one would break for lunch until they ended their discussion and it made them irritable, opinions far less checked than usual. Already a couple days passed since he came into possession of a jinni and things at the palace returned to their norm. It just became known that Yang Li now had a cat.

The general of the left army shook his head at the prince, but the general of the right army spoke up in agreement. Both, nearly twice his age, were trusted supporters of the current emperor. "The rate of which they conquer the little territories between us is not natural. What then when nothing stands between our nations? Will they stop there? We must take action while we can!" the general exclaimed. The neighboring empire used to sit far to the west where the oceans carved out the land, but they spread little by little, much in the same way that the Yang empire had when a grew emperor unified the warring tribes. But that which had seemed only a distant enemy now sat nearly on their doorstep. How could such a nation grow? It worried Yang Li more than most. Because more than just en enemy, it was a curious and worrisome sort. He wished never to go to war with them.

"My father will not wish for our nation to simply wait for them. We must make the first move before they get stronger. Here-!" Yang Li demanded, pointing to a place on the map that covered the long table they sat at. "A forward army has gathered outside of the Rohein villages. If we cut them off, we can make a statement and an ally of the people there. Two birds with one stone." A faint grin crossed over his face, born from confidence. No one could defeat the army that he led after all, especially with the added power of a jinni.

The generals leaned over the map, murmuring once again as they put together their plan. Before long, they were all in agreeance. The Yang Empire would go on the offensive.

One of the best things about being "Yang Li's cat" was the privileges. Servants gave him scraps, milk, and they didn't even yell that much if he ran off with something bigger. Then there was the time he had actually fell into a big sack of something musty and squishy. An incredibly kind chef's assistant cooed, rescued him, even gave him a bath! Some people shooed him away, sure, but it was a simple thing to slink off and hide. What he found really fun was pissing some guard off then goading them into chasing him down halls. The chase would always end at Yang Li's feet, where Bassam mewed sweetly and pretended absolutely nothing was happening.

Actually, that was exactly what he was doing right now. Just a minute ago, he'd been clawing a man's uniform. The human seemed set on throttling him with such a red face. Bassam couldn't wait to see how pale it would get when they ran into Yang Li. They just needed to find Yang Li. Where was that tiny man?

--------

It was early afternoon. Ammon's feet were sore. They hadn't stopped once since leaving camp. He was thirsty. He was complaining.
But would it kill anyone to rest for five minutes? This... was just shit.

"What's with the battle face?" Elham nudged his shoulder with her foot. Again she was looking down on him, this time from a camel. How did she manage to be above him at any given moment, in any given sense?

"This is my normal face," Ammon ground out. His sister only huffed humorlessly.

"Well fix it- you're going to curse the whole band looking like that."

"A break would help." Elham didn't hear her brother as she pushed onward past him. Apparently they were only a few more hours from a village a vessel of their employer was waiting. Ammon hoped they'd stop before then, but nothing ever disrupted his sister's focus. Not even necessity.

Yang Li strode down the halls, only minutes after an audience with the emperor. Lunch got thoroughly forgotten in between. The meeting still echoed in his ears as the generals informed the emperor of the situation and their plan. 'Very well. Who will lead this army? Are we not already spread thin with the bandits on our northern border?' he asked.

Down on one knee, his hands clasped together in respect, Yang Li spoke up before anyone could stop him. 'I will go. Let me take my men and I will prove my worth.' The emperor had been silent then, perhaps disapproving slightly with his eyes though it was a hard thing to see on his face. Yang Li may be a skilled general, but he was also the heir. No one could stand in his way though and a minute later, he gained his father's blessing. Had he ever failed before? And they did not even know of his secret weapon.

Where did that jinni get off to now? He'd been such a nuisance as of late, proving himself more a pest as a cat than human. Of course, even now, he'd yet to ask for the jinni's name, not even considering its importance. They would need to leave soon though so he poked his head into the kitchen, trying to find the creature. Not seeing signs of a cat, he turned down the hall. "Jinni, you best not be making trouble for me..." he muttered under his breath.

-------

At a village on the very edge of the Yang Empire's domain, a figure waited. They wrapped themself heavily in cloaks of dull brown that bathed their face in shadow and hid their shape. Only delicate, pale fingers showed, holding the cloak edges shut. Although the journey was unpleasant, there was business to attend to at this village. Before long, a group of bandits would enter and a deal would be struck. A faint smile curled of their shadowed face. Finally, it was time to set things in motion.

As if on cue, Bassam rounded the corner to find his prince. He slowed down immediately and chirped his way over to the man's feet. Yang Li looked peeved, which suited Bassam just fine. But wait, that was underselling it. Bassam loved when the human was just as irate as whomever was chasing him, even if it usually got him in more trouble. If they could only see how endearing those faces they made were!

"Get back here, you filthy thi-" the guard halted several yards from Yang Li, sputtering. "Y-Your Highness," he blanched before snapping back into proper posture. Bowing deeply, he stammered, "I a-am so sorry Your Highness. I did no-o-t recognize this was your cat." Bassam purred deeply and admired his own handiwork. The man's pants were essentially ribbons knees down. Drops of blood oozing from scratches had the fabric sticking in places, which Bassam was less proud of. Maybe he'd overdone it.

----------

Ammon was conflicted. On one hand, by starting their day early Elham had gotten the band to their destination faster. On the other hand, Ammon was more tired and hungry than he'd ever been. And of course, instead of letting him go eat with the others at the village's tavern, his sister pulled him aside. At first it was frustrating, but when she elaborated that they'd go together to meet their employer, he felt recognized. If Elham was taking him along, then it was possible she could start depending on him.

As sister and brother approached a lone home at the village's edge, Ammon set his discomforts aside.

"This is where we're to meet them," Elham said lightly, stepping into the abode. It was one room, dusty, and poorly lit. A single candle sat on the table unlit while afternoon sun slipped through two windows opposite. Save them, no was present. "I guess we wait," she murmured. Ammon said nothing, only watched her pace slowly.

Just as Yang Li rounded a corner, he found his jinni and quite a scene. His face stiffened more than its usual, his gaze turning severe. "Cease this!" he snapped even before the cat and guard came to stop in front of him. "That does not matter. Have you no shame in yourself chasing a cat like this? You are a palace guard!" His eyes darted down to the pants as he suppressed a snort of disdain. "And put a pair of decent pants on!"

With that, the stammering guard reddened before rushing off. Yang Li grabbed the cat by the scruff of its neck, lifting him up to glare even more sharply. "Come on, I have need of you jinni. Tomorrow morning we will lead an attack on a small force of enemy soldiers, so we best prepare." Finally, he would get to test the true powers of his jinni. Grinning once again, he headed straight for his personal quarters with the cat cradled in one arm.

-------

Minutes after the mercenary pair entered the little home, the figure started toward it. They'd been watching the meeting place for some time and observed the rest of the band disappear to find food. Good, they honored the terms and it seemed there would be no hidden dangers. Just one minute to let them stew, then the figure slipped inside the poorly lit room. Aside from the creak of the door, little alerted to their presence. Slipped feet made for silent foot steps.

Stopping just inside the candle's glow, the figure spoke, revealing a female voice as soft as birdsong. "So we finally meet. Are you prepared to kidnap a prince?"