Adventure Time with Badr and Yazeed

He had many names, in many places. To the north, he was known as the Slayer of Manticores. In the southwest, he was known as He With No True Home. Many market place regulars knew him simply through rumors, as the Man With Eyes Like an Oasis or the Man Who Tamed an Ifrit. Throughout most of the land, he was known as Nawab, or Maharaja, or his proper name Badr ibn Zahid ibn Ala Al-Din Al-Faraj. His friends and family only ever called him Badr, as he preferred.

At present, no description suited him better than "the man who was running as if hell itself were on his heels." Though the pre-dawn air was cool and crisp, he ran as though his feet were on fire.

"Yazeed!" he shouted, grabbing his turban as it slipped off of his head. "Yazeed! Help me--the ghouls!"

He didn't bother with the scimitar at his side, and it soon became apparent why; six hyenas approached from the shadows, leaping over tombstones and monuments to reach him. They smelled of rotting flesh and decay; their muzzles glistened red in the waning moonlight, and their limbs made eerie cracking noises with each movement.

"This is your fault!" shouted a deep voice from behind him. Unlike his partner, his feet actually were on fire. In fact, he himself was on fire.

Yazeed dug his heels into the sand, slowing him down. Then, he turned, staring at the ghouls coming after them.

"Why am I always the one who saves our asses?" he shouted, outstretching his arms. The flames intensified as he did so. Yazeed just grinned. He sure loved an excuse to burn things.

As they were much too preoccupied with chasing after the human, they didn't quite notice the wall of flames stopping them from going any farther. In fact, it pretty much disintegrated whatever flesh and bone they had left. But, unfortunately, it didn't smell pleasant.

"AUGH! This is all your fault!" he shouted angrily, turning back to Badr.

Badr smiled sheepishly, holding up the amulet.

"But Yazeed--just think of how happy that family will be! We retrieved their precious relic. Isn't that a reward, in and of itself?" He batted his long eyelashes, flashing his unusual blue eyes at the Ifrit.

"Come now, I'll do anything you like. Thank you for your help, friend." He raked his hand through his tousled block locks, laughing. "They almost got me that time! Talk about a rush."

"Tch. Like I care, I don't like humans," he replied. His flames died out, and he walked over to Badr. He stood nearly a foot taller than the other man, at nearly 7 and a half feet tall. With his horns, he was 8.

He shrugged slightly.

"You're the only one who cares, I'm only here because I don't completely despise you," he said bluntly. "Not that I like you, either."

Badr jokingly made a kissy face, standing on tiptoe.

"You know you love me, Yazeed, just as I love you! Why, I should make you my wife--you can be Nawab Begum." He winked, putting his turban back on.

"Come on, we've got to head back before sunrise--I don't want to walk in the heat. Besides, my stomach growls--our next adventure is breakfast!" He patted the Ifrit on the back, beaming excitedly.

Yazeed just glared at him.

"You think I'm some sort of weird boy-lovin' Ifrit? We don't talk about those freaks," he replied bluntly, though he had the slightest blush on his cheeks.

"And don't touch me!" he said, crossing his arms.

"Of course I can touch you," he insisted, poking his arm with a smile. "I can touch you wherever I want! Why, I can tickle you as well."

He wiggled his fingers against the Ifrit's tummy, about the only part of him he could easily reach.

"Stop!" He insisted, squirming away. Angrily, he picked up the other man, hoisting him all the way off of his feet. He held him so that Badr could look directly into his eyes.

"Do I have to punish you?" He threatened.

He grinned and wrapped his arms around Yazeed's neck, nuzzling him.

"You know you won't hurt me--you love me too much. Besides, who else will put up with you if I am gone? You're so surly."

He chuckled, meeting Yazeed's eyes again. "Perhaps you just need to meet a pretty girl? Of course, we don't have time for that--maybe a concubine? Ifrit love human women, right?"

He pulled Badr away from him, that annoying blush returning to his cheeks.

"I said to stop touching me, midget," he growled. "I don't have time for women. I have no interest in humans. If I wanted to marry, I'd settle down with something less fragile. Like a jinn or another Ifrit."

"But human women are soft," he pointed out. "They're not made of hellfire or brimstone or light or anything volatile--they're soft and made of Earth and supposedly very gentle. I want to sleep with one someday--they're supposed to be quite the pleasure for a man. Better than boys, even." He giggled at the joke.

"Besides, I thought Ifrit love kidnapping beautiful young human girls. Don't tell me that sport is only for Caliphs."

He groaned, looking away from him.

"You know I hate that stereotype," he replied gruffly. "Okay, sure, some really stupid Ifrit like kidnapping girls, but whatever! No one talks about them, either...at least, I wish they didn't."

He shrugged slightly, setting Badr back onto the ground.

"As for women, they're all ugly, greedy, whores!" he replied. "I hate them all, and you should stay away from them! They're just gonna try to rob us blind."

"But I'll need a wife someday, won't I?" he asked, grabbed Yazeed's hand and gently tugged him toward town. "I should have children--that's what all good men do, right? I don't want to, but I should."

"You shouldn't do anything you don't want to do," he said, looking down at Badr. "Who cares if you're supposed to have kids? You don't have to, you know. No one will force you."

Yazeed took a bit of satisfaction in the idea of Badr not taking a wife. If he ever got married, who would be left alone? Yazeed had never liked anyone else but Badr. He'd be alone, for the rest of his eternity.

"Surely it won't hurt to have one child," he said, shrugging. "It is my duty, even if it is unpleasant--perhaps my wife will be nice, and we can be friends. And then you will have another friend as well."

He beamed sincerely.

"Don't you want more friends, Yazeed? I'd imagine eternity is lonely."

"I hate humans, especially women," he replied, crossing his arms. "I even hate you, but I hate you less."

Yazeed stared at him.

"...why would you want kids? They're annoying."

"I don't really want children," he said throughtfully, frowning. "No...I just need to pass on my lineage, i suppose? Create a legacy. Keep the blood of my fathers from dying out.

"Isn't that why men bother with women?" He chuckled. "Besides the pleasure, I mean. I suppose I'm looking forward to that too, but I mainly want to fulfill my duties.

"It's boring, but I do want to be a good man."

He snorted, unimpressed. Mostly, he was just cross. He didn't want Badr to have children. He hated kids. More, he hated women, though. Especially women who wanted to be with Badr.

"Don't get married, don't have kids," Yazeed replied bluntly. "...at least, wait until I'm dead or something. If you get married, I'm leaving."

"Can ifrit die?" he asked, looking up at Yazeed and furrowing his brow. Yazeed was like a brother too him, at this point; the thought of losing him was most definitely not fun. If anything, it was painful. It made his chest ache as though it were hollow.

"I don't want you to die, not at all. I want to adventure together forever--when I die, maybe you can. But not before. That would be unfair."

A small dot became clear on the horizon; it wasn't far to the town, now. The sky was already a warm purple, ready for the sun to make an appearance.

"I think that if you left me alone, I wouldn't forgive you. Even though you are my closest companion." He smiled. "You aren't getting off so easily."

He rolled his eyes. Gosh, the kid was so naive. About this, among other things.

"Of course ifrit can die, stupid," he said, slightly amused. "It's pretty damned hard to kill us, though. But, who knows, us doing the things we do? It's likely to happen eventually. You'll probably be pretty old if it does happen. If it ever happens. I don't plan on dying. The only thing more boring than life is death."

He shrugged slightly, trying not to look too much into his friend's words. "Save your heartwarming speech for your wife, like I care what you think of me, you little brat."