The snake's venom

Morning in Agrabah brought no relief from the heat. The sun rose like a hammer, striking the white stone of the Palace.

I was in the training courtyard, sharpening my reflexes. I moved through a kata with The Solar Zenith, the blade humming as it sliced the dry air. I wasn't alone.

Jafar stood in the arched doorway, watching me. His parrot, Iago, was perched silently on his shoulder for once.

"Impressive form," Jafar drawled, slithering into the sunlight. "You fight like a man who has seen many wars. Far more than a simple traveler should."

I stopped, resting the Keyblade on my shoulder. "What do you want, Jafar?"

"I want to ensure the safety of the kingdom, of course," he lied smoothly, circling me. "You see, Ray, I have consulted the sands. They tell me you are not from here. They tell me you seek... a door."

I narrowed my eyes. Jafar was a sorcerer; he sensed the Keyhole, even if he didn't understand it.

"I seek to clean up the mess you're ignoring," I said. "The Heartless."

"Ah, yes. The vermin," Jafar waved a bony hand dismissively. "But there is a greater power in Agrabah than shadows. There is a Cave... the Cave of Wonders. It holds a lamp. A lamp that could grant the power to wipe those monsters from the face of the earth."

He stopped in front of me, leaning on his cobra staff.

"You have power," Jafar whispered conspiratorially. "Perhaps... enough power to enter. Help me retrieve the lamp, and I will ensure you are rewarded. Richly. Beyond the Sultan’s meager coin."

"And the Princess?" I asked, my voice flat.

Jafar’s lip curled. "The Princess is a child playing dress-up. Once I have the lamp... she will learn her place. As will her bumbling father."

I laughed. I stepped forward, looming over the Vizier.

"You aim too low, Jafar. You want to be Sultan. I play for stakes you can't even see."

I leaned down, my voice dropping to a menace. "I don't need your lamp. And I don't need your permission. Stay out of my way, or I'll feed that parrot to the tiger."

Jafar recoiled, his face twisting into a mask of pure hatred. "You will regret this insolence, outlander."

He turned and swept away, his robes billowing. I watched him go. He would make his move soon. He would try to find his "Diamond in the Rough" to get the lamp. But I intended to get there first.

I returned to the Princess’s chambers. Jasmine was arguing with her handmaiden.

"I don't want the purple silk!" she shouted, throwing a pillow. "It's too heavy! I want to go outside!"

She saw me enter and stopped. She waved the handmaiden away. "Leave us."

The servant scurried out, closing the heavy doors. Jasmine stood there in nothing but thin, white under-linens, her black hair wild. She didn't cover herself. She looked at me with a mix of frustration and desperation.

"You're back," she breathed. "I thought Jafar might have... done something."

"He tried to hire me," I said, leaning against the doorframe, admiring her near-naked form. "He wants the throne, Jasmine. And he sees you as an obstacle."

"Tell me something I don't know," she sighed, pacing the room. "I'm trapped, Ray. Three days until I have to choose a husband, or Jafar will twist the law to make Father choose him."

She stopped in front of me. "Take me out. Please. I can't breathe in here."

"To the market?"

"No," she said, her eyes flashing. "To the hunt. You said you were going to clean the streets. I want to see."

"It's dangerous," I warned. "Blood. Darkness. ****."

"Good," she hissed, stepping closer, her breasts heaving against the thin linen. "I want to see ****. I want to see something real."

I looked at her. She was starving for sensation, for anything that broke the monotony of her golden cage.

"Get dressed," I commanded. "Something you can run in. We're going to the slums."

We moved through the lower districts of Agrabah. I kept to the shadows, and Jasmine followed, dressed once again in her street-rat disguise, hood up. But this time, she moved with confidence. She wasn't running from guards; she was running with the wolf.

We found them in an abandoned courtyard near the west wall. A cluster of Pot Spiders and a massive Bandit Heartless—a floating, sword-wielding demon in Arabesque garb.

"Stay back," I ordered Jasmine.

She pressed herself against a crumbling wall, her eyes wide, fixated on the monsters.

I drew the Keyblade. The Bandit lunged, its scimitar swinging. I ducked, feeling the wind of the blade. I countered with an uppercut slash. Clang. Metal met magic. I spun, unleashing a Blizzard spell. Ice crystals exploded in the desert heat, freezing the Pot Spiders in their tracks.

I vaulted over the Bandit, spinning in the air. "Submission!" I roared, bringing the Keyblade down on its head. The Heartless shattered into darkness, releasing a pink heart that floated into the sky.

I landed in a crouch. The alley was silent again, save for the crackling of the melting ice.

I stood up and turned to Jasmine. She hadn't looked away. She was breathing hard, her chest rising and falling rapidly. The **** hadn't scared her; it had thrilled her.

She walked toward me, stepping over the puddles of darkness. She pushed her hood back. Her face was flushed, her lips parted.

"You destroyed them," she whispered, reaching out to touch my arm. "You just... erased them."

"Power," I said, grabbing her hand and pulling her close. "It's the only law that matters, Jasmine."

"I want it," she confessed, looking up at me with hungry eyes. "I want to feel powerful."

"You are a Princess," I reminded her. "You have armies."

"I have guards who take naps!" she spat. "I have a father who plays with toys! You... you are the only thing that feels strong."

She pressed her body against mine. We were alone in the dirty alley, surrounded by the remnants of monsters. The adrenaline was a potent aphrodisiac.

"Show me," she begged, gripping my vest. "Show me how to take what I want."

I looked down at her. The Princess was offering herself up, confusing her lust for freedom with her lust for the man who could provide it.

"Not here," I growled, looking at the exposed street. "We go back to the Palace. Tonight, Jafar makes his move on the Cave. And while he's busy chasing sand... I'm going to teach you lesson number one."

"Which is?"

I leaned down and bit her earlobe, hard enough to sting. "A Queen doesn't ask. A Queen takes."

I grabbed her waist and summoned a dark corridor, a shortcut through the shadows. "We're going to your room, Jasmine. And I'm going to lock the door from the inside."