Chapter Text
Alibaba had said goodbye to Tess, Wahid, Setta, and all the others from Alma Torran who had done so much to help him get back home. Now he was in the circle they had drawn, doll body towering over everything else. The others stood around him, watching.
Alibaba began the long chant they had taught him, making use of the magic knowledge that had been shoved into him over the small eternity he’d stayed here by thousands of practiced magic users. He would never be on the same level as a natural magician, but he could cast some small spells, and most importantly, could activate a large-scale ritual like he was doing now. He could feel the rukh in the doll react to the spell, and as soon as he finished the chant, a bright light overtook his vision. The last thing he saw was Tess’s wide eyes before everything went blank.
He woke up slowly. His body no longer felt like it was made of rocks. The curious lack of feeling in that body had transformed into a painful pressure all over, as if there was too much inside him and he was about to burst. He groaned and tried to move, but a hand laid itself across his forehead before he could do more than shift.
“Alibaba, baby, how are you feeling?” a familiar voice asked softly.
Alibaba cracked his eyes open to the image of a person he hadn’t expected to see for a while yet. His mother’s face looked down at him, a worried crease between her eyes. Alibaba concluded that he must have done something wrong when he punched through dimensions, and he had joined the Great Flow instead of the living.
“Mom,” he gasped, reaching out for her, even as tears began to roll down his face.
He hadn’t meant to die this early! He had so much to do! After all that effort, was there no way to help his friends? He sobbed into his mother’s arms as he mourned all that he had lost.
His mother sang a soothing song he remembered from his childhood and rubbed his back, rocking him slowly. His tears eventually began to dry, and that was when he noticed something was off. He was much smaller than his mother, and last he checked, he had been taller than her. He peered up at her in confusion, and she smiled back.
“Feeling better, honey?” she asked, smoothing back his hair.
“I dunno,” Alibaba found himself mumbling, “Everything feels weird.”
“Well, you have been very sick,” his mother explained, which made something in the back of his mind twinge, “Thankfully, it seems that the fever has broken. You’ll feel better soon.”
“‘Kay,” Alibaba yawned, suddenly tired. The exhaustion from everything that had happened crashed into him with the force of a wave. Even with the sense that something was wrong, he couldn’t stop his head from drooping.
His mother laughed quietly, “I’ll let you sleep some more. Sweet dreams, Alibaba.”
He dreamed of Aladdin and Morgiana. They were sitting on Aladdin’s flying turban, and in the distance Alibaba could see a giant structure, it could be a tower or a palace, they were too far away for Alibaba to tell. Aladdin and Morgiana had smiles on their faces.
Aladdin turned to him to ask, “Hey, Alibaba, are you ready for another adventure?”
Alibaba grinned, “Of course!”
Aladdin’s smile was smaller now, and seemed somewhat melancholy, “I’m sorry, but it looks like we can’t follow you on this adventure.”
“What?” was all that Alibaba was able to say before Aladdin and Morgiana both fell from the turban. Alibaba scrambled to look over the side, calling their names, but they had vanished. The structure had grown closer, and Alibaba could now see that it was a giant set of doors. They cracked open and the turban slipped through, carrying Alibaba into the unknown. They shut behind him with terrifying finality.
Alibaba woke up with the slam still ringing in his ears. He blinked tears out of his eyes, slowly sitting up. He glanced around the room and the alarm bells that had been ringing in the back of his head yesterday returned full force, because he was in a room. The last afterlife he had been in hadn’t had rooms, and he doubted the Great Flow did either. In fact, this room looked shockingly like the inside of the shack he and his mother had lived in when he was little.
Little.
Alibaba whipped his head down to stare at his tiny arms and legs. They looked like they belonged to a child. He was dressed in the same kind of rags he’d worn as a kid, too. He felt his ears, and his earrings and even his piercings were gone.
“Am I a kid?!” he gasped.
“I sure hope you are,” his mother laughed, ducking into the room, “I’ve only had you for seven years, I’m not willing to give you up just yet.”
Alibaba gaped at her. Seven?! No wonder he was tiny! Had he really time traveled? He quickly shoved his panic into the pack of his brain when he noticed his mother looking at him in concern.
“I’m not a kid!” he huffed, trying to play it off as childish anger, “I’m an adult! I can help you!”
His mother chuckled, “Sure, sure. Here, how about you help me carry this laundry to the well so we can wash it?”
Alibaba tried to pick up the basket and staggered under its weight. He grimaced, but hefted it and marched out the door. He knew his mother was grinning at him, but he ignored it, heading determinedly towards the well. He had to stop a few times, but he was able to carry the basket all the way. Setting the basket down, he watched as his mother placed her own basket down. Then, he watched as she proceeded to show him how to wash laundry. He knew how from his travels when he was older, but his mother did it with impressive skill and speed. He tried to follow along, but he had only gotten through a third of his basket by the time his mother had finished with hers. She helped him with the rest of his basket and congratulated him on his diligence.
“Don’t worry,” she reassured him, “It took me years of washing clothes every day before I got anywhere near to the level I’m at, and I’m still improving. You’ll get better.”
Then she sent him off to play. Instead of heading to the place where he used to play King of the Hill with Cassim and the others, Alibaba headed for the markets.