The whisper of fabric, the brush of silent boots against sanded stone.
Helios moved quietly and quickly.
The tail had been persistent—Jafar's subordinate, no doubt. Not bold enough to confront, but too close to allow to linger. The man had the patience of a jackal and the subtlety of a tambourine.
Helios led him just far enough into the winding market alleys. Then he vanished.
A single dark corridor—angled, warped, and precise—opened behind a spice merchant's stand. Helios stepped through just as the tail turned the corner.
Gone. No trace. Only a faint gust of sand and saffron in the air.
He stepped from the corridor and back into the quiet closet chamber hidden in the palace's underbelly. It was still cloaked, untouched, and dim.
Inside, Alira was asleep, curled into herself in the far corner of the room. Her cloak wrapped around her like a second skin. Her breathing was even, her face smooth—expressionless, yet no longer void.
Helios let his shoulders drop. He sat down across from her, resting his back against the cool stone. He let the stillness settle around him. A rare moment of peace.
And then…
Morning came.
A shaft of gold light slipped through the vented lattice of the wall. Birds trilled far beyond the palace grounds, and soft footsteps of servants echoed faintly from far-off halls.
Alira stirred.
Helios opened his eyes—and found her already staring at him.
She didn't speak. Her gaze was fixed, searching. Unblinking.
It wasn't cold. It was curious. Like her mind was reaching for something just beyond the veil.
"…You see something?" Helios asked quietly.
Her voice was flat but firm. "I don't know. You look… familiar. But wrong."
Helios smirked. "That's the nicest thing anyone's said to me today. Of course, I'm familiar we've been together for many days."
He stood, dusted himself off, and then extended a hand to her.
"Time to take care of something."
She looked at his hand for a beat.
Then took it.
They moved through the palace again, under concealment—Helios had recast his cloak spell while Alira wiped the sleep from her eyes. They passed through quieter halls now, avoiding the paths heavy with morning patrols.
Eventually, they arrived before an ornate chamber flanked by six guards. The doors were golden, engraved with flowering vines and stars. The scent of jasmine hung in the air.
The royal chamber of Rani Soraya.
Helios observed the guards. Their posture. Their movement. Their breathing. He calculated.
Then their cloaked forms slipped through a corridor directly going from the front of the door into the chamber beyond.
Inside, the four handmaidens were already busy—draping silks, brushing hair, adjusting jewelry with practiced grace. Soraya stood at the center of the room like a rising sun—partially dressed in her morning robes, adorned with delicate chains and earrings, her expression composed.
Alira paused at the sight of her, eyes lingering just slightly longer than they had with anyone else.
But the moment shattered.
The handmaidens turned toward the sound of shifting air as Helios dropped the concealment spell.
One of them screamed.
Then another.
But no sound reached the hall.
Helios' silence hex had already been cast.
Soraya didn't flinch. Her handmaidens did—but the queen raised a hand, palm outward, and stepped forward.
"Peace," she said gently. "You need not fear. Who are you? How did you enter my chambers?"
Her voice held strength even in curiosity.
Helios offered a disarming smile.
"I apologize for the intrusion. This will only take a moment."
Before she could respond, Helios turned toward the four handmaidens.
His eyes glowed faintly.
"Forget and sleep."
A soft wave of magic pulsed from him. The handmaidens blinked once—then each one collapsed into slumber, guided gently to the floor by an unseen hand. Their memories of this moment would fade like a dream.
Soraya didn't move. Her expression remained unreadable.
Helios turned to her using the same hex.
"I'm placing someone under your protection," he said. "A child."
He reached back, gently placing his hand on Alira's shoulder and nudging her forward.
"She's quiet. Obedient. You met her briefly, I think, when you visited the lower district—just a nameless child in the crowd. You had a soft spot for her."
Soraya tilted her head slightly.
"And you would have her become one of my handmaidens?"
"Temporarily," Helios said. "Keep her close. Safe. No one will notice one more face in the background."
Soraya's gaze shifted to Alira. Their eyes met.
There was a moment of complete stillness.
Then, the Rani knelt—her robes cascading around her like waves of lavender silk—and placed a hand gently on Alira's shoulder.
"What's your name, little one?"
Alira blinked. She opened her mouth—
Nothing.
Soraya smiled kindly. "That's alright. You don't need to answer now."
Helios stepped closer, lowering his voice.
"She doesn't remember much. Don't push. Just… let her be near you. Trust me, she'll follow."
Alira looked at Helios now.
He met her eyes.
"I have something I need to finish. I'll return. Until then, listen to her. Stay near her."
Alira nodded.
It was a small motion. But firm.
Helios turned to Soraya.
"She'll be no trouble."
"She'll be cared for," Soraya replied. "You have my word."
And there it was—that same commanding kindness. That unshakable calm even under a spell.
No wonder Jafar feared her.
Helios stepped back and summoned the dark corridor. Its void spiraled into being before the tapestry-draped wall.
He looked back at Alira one last time. Her gaze followed him. Still blank, but no longer empty.
Then he stepped through.
The portal closed behind him.
And Alira was left in the care of a queen.