Investigation III
You admit that, while yes, you are fascinated by the world of genies and magic, and yes, you do consider yourself a very inquisitive person by nature, the looks on the faces of the two djinn make you give pause to really ponder whether or not it’s a wise idea to ask further. Even so, you’ve come THIS far, haven’t you?
‘I kind of want to know the truth, yeah,’ you admit. ‘Ali?’
Ali nods. ‘I’ve been embroiled in this for a bit longer. I know it’s not all sunshine and rainbows, Shira. But I think I can handle it.’
The two djinn share a brief look with one another, then nod in unison.
“To try and make a long story short,” Shira says. “This civilization, whose name even I cannot speak, was one that mingled frequently with our kin - the djinns of old were once far more numerous then you might think, and more, for lack of a better term, open when they dealt with mortals. However, our realm’s rules changed due in no small part to what happened to this human society.”
‘Um… what happened?’ you ask.
‘Let me guess,’ Ali says. ‘The genies, erm, killed them off?’
“Oho, no, no,” Akam says. He shakes his head. “Even in those times, our kind was forbidden from killing a mortal - we could not take a life even if we desired to, due in part to our very nature.”
You tilt your head to the side. ‘Really?’
Akam waves a hand. “There’s a lot of backstory involved with how the djinn of old used to be, and I don’t want to waste too much time getting into it. Though,” he pauses and smiles, “I would be happy to tell you more later. Suffice to say, that isn’t what befell this society. Rather, then fact you’ve never heard of them, and the fact we cannot speak of their name… these are tied into their fate.”
“They were cursed,” Shira says, a second after Akam finishes speaking. “The entire society - every man, every woman, every child - was cursed, due to a mixture of carelessness, frivolousness, and arrogance. In some part, the humans were to blame, but, much of the blame fell upon the djinn of that time.”
‘Cursed?’ Ali asks.
‘What sort of… curse are we talking about here?’ you ask. You glance at the strange vase. ‘And how does that relate to the, um, designs on this vase?’
“The curse was brought about by a wish,” Akam replies. His lips purse, and for a moment, he appears more… somber. “A wish that was made, yet because of the wording used, the djinn who granted that wish decided to… exploit said wording, in ways you would consider petty or cruel, even though such words don’t typically exist in our vocabulary. And it backfired, with far-reaching ramifications toward both human and djinn alike.”
Your eyes widen.
‘Oh…’ Ali says. ‘Then… does that mean this vase is…?’
“Not the same djinn responsible, no,” Shira replies. She puts a hand on Ali’s shoulder and offers her a small, comforting smile. “That djinn is long, long gone, my dear - as dead as a djinn can possibly be, of that you have no need to be worried. He was punished for his actions, but because his choices were so damaging and destructive, it caused quite the uproar. Nothing of the kind had ever happened until that wish was granted.”
“The uproar was enough that many djinn took his side,” Akam adds with a nod. “They tried to, I suppose the best way to put it is ‘campaign’ on his behalf, feeling his choices weren’t warranting of any punishment. However, the humans of this civilization were none too pleased. And, well,” his lips purse again, and Akam frowns. “There isn’t a way to put it delicately, I’m afraid.”
‘Is that what led to the curse?’ you ask.
“Yes,” Shira replies. “That group of djinn, angered and arrogant, blamed the mortals for their own weakness and folly - and so they used their power to effectively doom that entire society. The curse, you see, was the curse of erasure: such that they would end up ceasing to exist in every way possible.”
“From that instant onward, no more children would be born,” Akam says. “Men and women alike lost that ability to reproduce due to the magics, and nothing they did could change this. Worse, their entire population was hit by a great virus, one that seeped through bone to their very cores. It left them weaker, more vulnerable to the elements, and because this was so very long ago…”
“There were no cures,” Shira added. She gives another sigh. “No medicine. No rituals. No spirits, nor even deities, could help them - and so it was that they began to die off, and with them, their culture faded into nothingness.”
Silence falls after these words have been said.
You’re speechless from the horror at the very implication of all this. An entire culture, eradicated because of djinn - it’s something out of a fantasy book or movie, yet here you are, in the form of a wolf, hearing that it happened for real.
‘That’s… that’s tragic,’ Ali says, her internal voice as quiet as a whisper.
‘But, wait,’ you say. ‘I don’t understand. You said the genie responsible was punished for the way he granted his wish. And you make it sound like these other genies were punished, too?’
“Oh, they were,” Shira says. Her eyes flash dangerously. “You see, my friend, the reason why our essences are now bound to lamps and other such objects…” She indicates the vase. “This is why we are now like this, rather then being free to venture about and explore the world as we once could.”
‘But how?’ you ask. You’re intrigued and mortified, yet still want to know.
“There is a, shall we say, class of djinn unlike the two of us,” Shira answers, nodding toward Akam. “They are older. Stronger. Wiser. They existed when humans were still in the midst of evolving, a species unbound by flesh and blood the way you and Ali are. These elders were the ones who maintained the rules among all djinn. It was they who used their power, power that you would define as ‘near godlike,’ to enforce the punishments on ALL djinn.”
“And thus, you now only find us in our little makeshift homes,” Akam says. “That’s why we can’t willingly leave our containers, and why our power is weakened to such a degree - it was those elder djinn who ensured that.”
‘I think I get it,’ Ali says. ‘So these, um, ancient genies? They decided to punish your entire species because of the actions of this one group, then, and because of them, your powers are weaker, and you can’t really leave your lamps until a new master comes along?’
“Exactly,” Shira says.
“Getting back to the other topic,” Akam says, and now, he looks at the vase. “The djinn who lives within this vase is one from that time - he was one of the few who chose to use his powers to curse those mortals, which is why he is bound to a vase with a dead language etched upon it.” He shakes his head. “Forced to be tied to a permanent reminder of his choices for eternity.”
Silence falls. You and Ali look at one another, then to the vase.
“Do you wish to know more?” Shira asks. “And, perhaps, even speak to him?”
“The choice is yours,” Akam adds.
Once more, you wonder - do you want to continue to learn, and perhaps take the next step? Or do you want to leave things where they are with this genie?
Written by Hollowpages on 08 December 2020
