Misunderstood Villain: Heroines Mourn My Death

Malik didn't know where the Hell he was walking.

Some rooftop maybe. Or garden ledge. Or the balcony of some noble's residence.

He didn't care.

His boots moved, and Sinbad floated above, a tiny smug cloud of wisdom.

Malik had too many thoughts and none at all.

Still dizzy, half-poisoned, betrayed, confused, disconnected—same old.

He was better, but he had yet to escape the struggle.

Hoot.

Sinbad glided down and landed back on his shoulder, his talons light.

"Elder Brother."

That voice... that soft and warm voice, took him out of his head.

Malik glanced sideways.

"How did you learn how to talk?"

"I always could."

"…Really?"

"Yes."

"Then was I actually hearing you all this time?"

"My thoughts, emotions, yes. Not my words. Those you came up with yourself."

"I see."

They walked a few steps.

The owl preened a wing, then looked him dead in the eye.

"Mine soul and yours are connected."

Malik blinked.

"Connected?"

Sinbad bobbed his head solemnly.

"Yes. Somehow—though I know not the exact moment nor mechanics of it—mine soul was woven with yours. Entangled. Stitched. A… soul-thread of sorts."

Malik just stared.

"I know that look... You think I'm not of sane mind."

"…Little bit, yeah."

The owl huffed, clearly offended.

"Be silent and listen, Elder Brother. Let me finish."

Malik raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

"Back when I died… my soul should've quickly gone to the Nether's River. You know this."

Malik nodded slowly.

"But it didn't... at least not quickly. Al-Fawra's pressure slowed it down. The Aether flow was too… strong. And you… you were always nearby. Killing yourself over and over like a stubborn fool."

"Did what I had to."

"Yes... And every time you did… a piece of your soul brushed against mine."

Sinbad looked off into a few distant steel trees like he was reminiscing.

"Eventually, after enough brushes, I stopped drifting. Your soul… anchored mine. And over time, all those scraps, those collisions, those desperate gasps you made before dying—they piled up. They gave me thought. Gave me shape. You didn't just keep me alive, Elder Brother. You made me."

Malik squinted.

"…I made an owl with depression and a superiority complex?"

Sinbad's feathers fluffed up indignantly.

"Tis' not depression. Tis' dramatic flair."

"You talk like you swallowed a library."

"Because I did."

Malik gave him a dead stare.

"Wow. Incredible."

The owl lifted his beak proudly.

"Tis' but a night."

Malik sighed.

"Seriously... Why the fuck do you talk like that? It's unusual."

Sinbad blinked, looking personally attacked.

"My dear Brother… I am part owl, part human. I take from both. This lingo of yours? It's crude. Base. Displeasing to the ear."

Malik raised his other brow.

"Really?"

"Indeed. We owls prefer a more refined speech. Regal. Scholarly. Sophisticated."

"So you've got a really high ego, got it."

"I do not partake in human squabbles of ego. I am above such things."

Malik kept walking.

"Are you now? Does that mean your big brother is beneath—"

"Elder Brother."

Sinbad cut in sharply.

"Do not ever question my love for you. I hold you in the highest regard. I am as proud of you as one can be of another... As you of me, I'm sure."

Malik stopped in his tracks.

"…Oh. Uh. Okay. My bad."

"It is your fault indeed. Do not repeat it."

There was a long pause until Malik asked:

"…You serious?"

"I find my patience about such things quite…"

Sinbad turned his head to the horizon.

"Inadequate now."

Malik joined him in looking at the dark.

"Right now, my patience isn't all that either... so stop hiding it from me."

"...Hiding what?"

"You didn't speak with me before now. Why?... And please, never lie to me."

"Brother Dearest..."

Sinbad spoke softly.

"You were quite wasteful of your lives. Constantly dying. Bleeding. Running headfirst into what most wouldn't even dare to look at."

"Wasn't optional."

Ignoring Malik's rebuttal, he continued:

"And every time, I had to use a piece of myself to anchor your soul. It drained me. Took everything I had. There were moments I nearly faded. But I kept fighting as you fought for me... If you require evidence, then I'm sure you remember our father, Rehan. He spoke of me. I am that pink within your soul. Even my bastard father... I tried to help you in matters not of the soul, like that time I came to warn you of the Roc, or that time I forced you to blink... Unfortunately, I was much too weak to do anything more."

Malik's face tensed.

"You're not weak... you're not weak at all. And I... I don't need anything… I know it's true... everything makes sense now. It even explains how you knew about my blinks."

He looked down and asked:

"So you're saying that your... energy ran out because of me?"

"A crude way of saying it. But yes."

"…And since you were tired, you didn't have enough strength to talk?"

"Precisely."

"…I'm sorry."

The owl tilted his head.

"Do not apologize, my dear Elder Brother. You went beyond what was possible. My life… Jasmine's life… the others... they may've been tragic. But meeting you? Walking beside you?"

His voice grew even warmer.

"That is something we'll never regret. Not even if the Lord Himself struck me down this instant. I dare say—it was a miracle. You made the impossible possible. You're the reason I exist."

Malik blinked.

"I love you."

Sinbad confessed. Plain and simple.

"More than I ever thought I could love anyone. You tether me to this world, Malik. You are my soul. As I am yours. Tis' why you can never forget me. It is impossible to forget your own soul."

Malik turned his head to him and stared, stunned.

He wasn't used to… words like that. Not said out loud. Not so directly.

"You'd make me blush if I was capable of that."

Sinbad snorted.

"Behold, Elder Brother, the field in which I grow my fucks."

He spread one wing grandly and pointed toward the empty garden to their right.

"Lay thine eyes upon it—and see that it is barren as the desert."

Malik followed his gesture, continuing to stare.

And then...

"Ahahahahahahah!"

He laughed out loud.

It had been so long.

So damn long.

But he laughed with all his heart.

It almost scared him how natural it felt.

The owl puffed his chest out, proud and smug.

"Hahaha..."

Malik, wiping his eyes, looked at him again.

The world was still ugly and full of tragedy, but for this one moment…

It didn't feel quite so heavy.

"Hm."

He stepped forward and sat on the ledge, facing the world, the Twelve Moons far above brightening their faces.

Then, slowly and gently, Malik began to pat Sinbad.

The little guy made a surprised sound, then melted into it.

His wings wrapped around Malik's neck. Feathers against a cheek. Beak nuzzling into his hair.

A real hug.

No death.

No blood.

No betrayal.

Just two souls...

Fractured, Corrupted, but stitched together with stubbornness and love.

For the first time in an impossibly long time, Malik didn't feel alone.

Not all of his people, his family, were dead.

One had remained.