The castle doors closed behind him with a whisper, but Helios did not immediately step forward. The moment the shadows of Maleficent's lair no longer clung to him, he halted — one foot on cracked marble, the other in shadow.
His blue eyes changed into a golden yellow color as they narrowed.
Then, calmly, he raised his right hand.
A quiet ripple traveled down his forearm. Darkness coiled from his elbow to his fingers, shifting his skin into a swirling mass of abyssal essence. It wasn't painful, but it never felt… natural until now. The darkness now responded so easily to him.
He extended the twisted, clawed hand down toward his own shadow — which curled unnaturally at his feet, pulsing slightly.
"Got you."
With one smooth motion, Helios reached into the shadow and grasped something intangible. It fought him—not like a creature, but like smoke resisting a cage. A hiss slipped into the air as his claw closed around it.
From the darkness, he pulled free a small green flame.
It burned silently in his palm, wavering in a shape too perfect to be real. Its edges danced with sickly emerald flickers, and nestled deep inside was a tiny glowing eye — no pupil, no iris. Just a watcher.
A spy.
Maleficent's mark.
He'd felt it stir the moment she revealed the images of Agrabah and Atlantica. Subtle magic. Most wouldn't have noticed it slip beneath their skin.
But Helios wasn't most people. He was not only taught magic by the evil fairy but knew firsthand what her magic felt like.
He stared at the flame for a long moment. "Clever," he murmured. "You hid it behind theatrics. Wrapped it in fire and awe and thought I wouldn't see the hook under the bait."
He flexed his fingers.
The flame twisted violently—then collapsed in on itself with a final hiss of defiance.
Snuffed out.
Ash scattered across the wind.
Helios wiped his palm clean against his jacket and exhaled. Then his dark hand returned to normal.
Normally, he wouldn't have bothered dispelling one of Maleficent's little curses. She was always watching. Always listening. That was the price of entertaining her games.
But Agrabah was different.
She couldn't see what he was going to do there.
By the time Helios returned to Merlin's cottage, the skies above Radiant Garden had dulled further. The air felt tighter, like the world itself knew something was shifting.
Inside the cottage, Alira sat where he left her—silent, unmoving, eyes half-lidded in a trance of waiting. Not asleep. Not bored. Just… inert.
Helios dropped the second cloak into his pouch — an enchanted inventory gifted by the Moogles of Traverse Town. Space-bent, weightless, magically secure. The kind of artifact only a moogle would think to create and only someone like Helios could fully abuse.
"Get up," he said gently. "We're going somewhere."
Alira blinked once, then rose. She already wore the black cloak he'd given her — long, shadow-lined, and deep-hooded. It made her look smaller, more spectral, like a silhouette wearing skin.
She said nothing. Just waited.
Helios opened the corridor. Alira looked at the dark vortex without a sign of emotion.
They stepped through into blistering heat.
A wind laced with sand scoured across the golden expanse. Sunlight blazed from an unforgiving sky, and dunes rolled across the horizon like frozen waves of gold. It wasn't a comforting heat. It was dry, bone-deep, the kind that stole moisture from your mouth before you could speak.
They stood on a wide plateau of sunbaked stone — cracks etched across it like veins in dragonhide.
The Cave of Wonders should have been here.
Helios looked around.
No giant tiger mouth. No glowing eyes. Nothing in sight.
Just rock, sand, and the relentless howl of desert wind.
"Of course," he muttered, rubbing his temple.
Behind him, Alira watched without emotion. Her hood shaded most of her face, but the few strands of black hair peeking out fluttered in the desert breeze.
Helios looked at her briefly.
"Don't touch anything glowing unless I tell you to."
She nodded.
He sighed, muttering under his breath. "Why is nothing ever easy for me? It's like this univesre has it out for me."
If the cave wasn't here… then the scarab hadn't been found yet. Meaning the cave was still hidden, waiting to be unlocked. And that meant—
"I have to find Jafar first."
Of course.
He could scour the desert looking for that cursed beetle piece, or he could just track down the snake himself and let him do all the heavy lifting. Either option promised headaches but at least one required less work on his part.
Helios opened another corridor, its entrance rippling like a mirage in the heat.
"Let's go."
The corridor deposited them on the outskirts of Agrabah.
The city pulsed with life — narrow alleys choked with smoke and laughter, colorful awnings shielding merchants and musicians from the sun. Children chased each other between crates. Traders barked about carpets, spices, and lamp oil. The scent of baked flatbread and roasted dates filled the air.
But there was tension here, too.
Guards patrolled in tighter formations than Helios remembered. People lowered their voices when soldiers passed. Whispers of "the vizier," of "taxation," and "disappearances" drifted like ghost winds between stalls.
Jafar's grip was tightening.
Good.
That meant he was growing impatient. Growing sloppy.
Perfect time for someone like Helios to step in.
He and Alira passed through the crowd with ease. No one questioned Alira's cloak and Helios had cast the same spell he used on Skuld to keep people from noticing her on their attire. In this place of masks and thieves, shadowed travelers were common. No one looked too long. No one asked twice. So they easily walked past even the guards taking bribes to allow passage.
Alira walked behind him in silence, her steps perfectly spaced, perfectly paced. Not once did she veer off. Not once did her head turn to the food, the music, the children. She was a ghost walking in flesh.
Helios glanced back at her.
Still nothing.
Even now, in the middle of a new world pulsing with color, she didn't react.