A Mirage of Victory

Ch 2: Morbia

"Welcome to my realm, Jafar. The realm of Morbia."

Jafar frowned in dismay as he gazed upon his new surroundings. It wasn't much better than the Underworld. It looked as though they were drifting in outer space, with nothing but asteroids and fragments of a bygone civilization floating amongst the stars. He stood upon the only true 'land' here - an uprooted building in the shape of a Sphinx, shrouded in mist.

"Feel free to explore if you like, but I'm sure you can see - there isn't much to see." The cat-woman snickered. "But do join me inside my lair soon. We have much to discuss."

Without another word, Mirage strolled away and disappeared inside the Sphinx, leaving Jafar on his own.

She must be confident I can't try to escape, Jafar realized. He definitely couldn't simply walk away. There was only the void, and no sign of Earth in sight. Was this all a trick? Was this place meant to be his prison? Liberated only to be delivered from one torment to the next?

Jafar exhaled, and gripped his staff tightly. He would not be made a fool of. He would not bow to anyone, not even to an Evil Incarnate.

But he had to face reality - that, for the moment at least, he had no choice but to meet with Mirage and find out what she has in store for him...______________________________________________________________

Jafar and Mirage sat down to dinner that night. It was an odd feeling. Jafar hadn't had a real meal in such a long time. Not since he was the royal vizier. And it felt doubly odd that he'd have willing company.

But the energy in the air was still hostile. The two villains distrusted one another, and rightfully so. Neither of them actually cared to help the other; this was all for their own personal gain. And each was waiting to see if the other would truly be useful, or if they'd get in the way of their goals...

Jafar stared down at his plate. The food looked marvelous - roasted fish, freshly baked bread, pitted olives, and a chalice of wine to drink. Would he be shown such hospitality if Mirage intended to make him her slave?

But he couldn't bring himself to eat. He had too many questions on his mind.

"What's wrong, don't you like fish?" Mirage frowned at Jafar, putting her fork down with a soft warning growl. "Show a little gratitude. If it weren't for me, you'd still be swirling around with millions of other dead in the Underworld."

Jafar looked up, narrowing his dark eyes at the sorceress.

"Apologies..." His half-baked apology slithered out. "I'm still reeling from my resurrection, I suppose."

"Well relax, won't you?" Mirage demanded, taking a bite of her own meaty fish. "You can't scheme on an empty stomach."

Jafar raised a brow, regarding her thoughtfully. "If you are an immortal Evil Incarnate, do you... even need to eat at all?"

"Semi-immortal," Mirage corrected him. She could still potentially die of fatal injury, but it was unlikely anyone would ever get close enough to inflict such damage.

"Immortal or not, why would I deny myself a simple pleasure such as this?" She hummed as she reached for her wine. "And why would you? Eat."

Jafar gave in, and took hold of his fork, and speared a dainty morsel of the fish. The meat was flakey and white. He ate.

"Well?"

Jafar chewed and swallowed. The flavor was rich, almost overwhelming. "It's delicious."

"Pleased to hear it. These fish came from the river Nile," Mirage told him with pride. "My homeland."

"Egypt." Jafar nodded, unsurprised due to her appearance and how she dressed. "I have read of that kingdom. What was it like living there?"

It surprised Mirage that Jafar would care to learn about any other kingdom. He seemed to only concern himself with Agrabah so he can rule it, but perhaps she'd assumed wrong.

"Hm, an educated man..." Mirage mused, staring across the table at Jafar. "Then you would know that Egypt is a far more glorious kingdom than Agrabah, and far more wealthy."

After having started actually speaking to his savior, Jafar felt himself become a little more comfortable around her, his slick demeanor returning.

"The way you speak of Egypt makes me want to turn my attention towards conquering it instead." Jafar teased with a sly smirk.

"Think nothing of the sort! You'd be a fool to try." Mirage scowled and took a swig of her wine, savoring the warm tingle of the alcohol on her tongue before continuing.

"They have a legion of gods that protect their land. Their power rivals the gods of Greece! I'm sure Anubis or Set would match up well with Hades in a fight..."

"Are you, or were you a god?" Jafar interjected, curious. "I've seen illustrations. You remind me of the cat-headed goddess... What was her name?"

"Bastet. And no, I'm not her, or any other god. I didn't always look like this. This fur..." she gestured to her face. "... is a mark of my evil."

Jafar's gaze was fixed on Mirage, admittedly intrigued at this information. While she spoke, he bit into the loaf of bread. It was buttery and crusty on the outside, and soft on the inside.

"Mm..." Jafar swallowed, then reached for an olive and popped it into his mouth. By now, he was fully enjoying this meal. "I've heard tales of your deeds when I was royal vizier, but my research didn't reveal much else about you. Tell me more about your origins, if you care to disclose such a story."

Mirage considered this for a few moments. She didn't think she'd ever told anyone about her past. Jafar seemed genuinely interested... but that could be a facade, and he might only want to gain useful information about her... weaknesses, perhaps.

But on the other hand, sharing such things about herself might build rapport with her new ally. She'd just be careful not to divulge anything too sensitive.

She prepared herself with a breath, and began her story.