Characters used:




Name: Asir Al-Hakeem

Age: 23

Race: Human

Brief Introduction: The son of a shaikh, Asir was brought up knowing the finer things in life. As a consequence, he is vain and self-important. However, he is also extremely talented. He can read and write, sword-fight, and ride a horse. He is expected to succeed his father one day, as the eldest son. His brothers are even more spoiled and selfish, and are secretly plotting to steal his inheritance.





Name: Naira Mu'attar

Age: 20

Race: Human

Brief Introduction: Naira is the daughter of a middle-class merchant. Her father wants to marry her off to a wealthier man twice her age. Naira would rather die than let that happen, so she is planning on running away from home. She is feisty, but compassionate. She would rather seem like a shrew, but underneath it all she'd prefer something wonderful to happen to her.

Name: Abu Nassir
Age: looks 24




Name: Mahsheed Nasrin
Age: looks 20




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OTHER CHARACTERs:


Hassan:


Rasha:


Kalib:

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The morning light shone with joy and glory upon the bustling crowds as the merchants set up their stalls. Everyone was excited to become ready for the bazzar, and soon the shoppers would eagerly come to browse the wares, listen to tales, and enjoy the promising day. Among the commotion, one thin but spry looking older male set up his old and faded, but no less colorful booth, setting out all sorts of exotic decorations. A storyteller by trade, he did also set out to make the extra dinar or two by selling wares, exotic artifacts from his travels as a youth.

Despite the milling crowds in the marketplace, the elder was having little luck today. Ah well, he would sell something by end, no doubt, there were still a few hours till the bazzar came to an end. Adjusting his turban, the storyteller began to weave a tale from the famed Shaharazad herself, hoping to reel in a few potential buyers. The cloying smell of dung, sweat, and nearby food was comforting, and he soon fell into a rythm. Soon enough, a few young children looked at his trinkets, but alas, no one bought anything. Strangely, no one seemed to notice the two exotic looking containors..oil lamps judging by appearance.

((Have to introduce one character at a time or the post is going to be reaaallly long. XD ))

Naira pushed her way through the hustle and bustle of the dirty streets. The buildings were a sandy tan, the grounds covered in dust. Children giggled and ran past people negotiating over prices at the market. It was difficult to discern exactly what was happening, due to all the loud noises and the conflicted chattering closing in around her. Her father was talking to someone a few blocks down the road, but she had managed to slip away from him without his noticing. He was trying to accomplish something that his daughter was adamant about preventing... Her marriage. He was inviting a fellow but much wealthier merchant over for dinner. The man was twice her age, in his forties. He had a long salt and pepper beard, crinkly raisin-brown skin, and missing teeth. In comparison to Naira's youthful beauty, the man resembled a crippled goat. Needless to say, the girl was less than enthusiastic about the whole affair. Even now she contemplated the evasion of it--possible escapes and alternatives to her sad destiny. But there wasn't much of a selection for a woman in these times apart from marriage, admission to harems, slavery, or worse. Sure, Naira could attempt to win the adoration of a wealthy young man. But without her father's consent she could not get married.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the raised voice of a shopkeeper. He was elderly, recounting some sort of story to lull in potential customers. His booth was colorful and pleasing to the eyes, covered with all sorts of exotic odds and ends. Naira found, despite herself, that she was intrigued not by the man's words, but by the strange objects that he had on display. Her feet carried her towards the booth, where her vision fell onto a pair of oil lamps. Both were golden and carved with intricate designs. But one of the lamps had a lotus blossom unfolding on one of its sides. Naira felt strangely drawn to it, without knowing quite why.

"Excuse me, sir. But... How much is this?"

The old man paused in his words, requesting the children listening intently to pardon him momentarily. Turning to his potential customer, the man smiled, a toothy smile, but a pleasant one, none the less. Taking in the appearance of the girl before him, he looked her up and down apprasingly, wondering what sort of woman she was. Not poor, but not exceedilngly rich either. She looked to not be in any hurry to leave the market, and yet, she seemed to be uncomfortable. Watching her gaze, the storyteller picked up the lamp, smile growing with an approving nod.

"Let us see here...we should bargain, barter for it of course yes? No fun to set a price so quick. This little treasure is more than it seems my dear, perhaps you will find a use for it. Let me see here.....how bout say.....5 gold dinars?" The man tilted the lamp this wa and that, giving it almost an affectionate gaze as he smiled, musing over how interesting this girl's day would become should she choose to buy the lamp.

Naira watched the children listening to the man with a bemused expression on her face. They seemed disappointed when he paused in his tale to turn to the young woman with a reply. And an offer. Five gold dinars. In her pouch, Naira had only three. She'd made it a habit never to carry much on her when she went out. Not because it was unsafe insomuch as she was attempting to save her money. She had a tendency to spend her saving on strange items, as she was about to do now. It was perhaps a good thing that the lamp was worth more than she had on her. Perhaps it was a sign to turn away and leave it. But her eyes were glued on the lotus design, and she knew she could not forget the lamp and leave it there without at least trying to purchase it for a lower sum.

"Can you tell me about this?" she asked. "Is there something special about it?" Naira was no good at bartering and negotiations. Doing so required a certain amount of stubbornness and resolve. She could be feisty, but during different situations. Otherwise she was more than likely to spend the initial amount on goods, even if it was a blatant rip-off. "I only have three dinars," she admitted.

With a smile, the man ushered the noisy, waiting children to settle down, assuring them he would continue the story once he finished his chat with the pretty young woman. Seeing her eyes constantly glued to the design on the object, the elder chuckled, handing the lamp to her, pressing the cool metal into her hands.

"Three dinars will suffice. You could do with this beauty more than I."

With a wink, he patted her hand in a gentle, understanding gesture, paying no heed to the fact she was a stranger.
"Take care to be careful with this treasure, I'd hate for someone other than you to possess it. Use it well. It seems silly, but mark my words, it is worth every dinar. Now, take heed my words. Keep it close at all times. Then, when you retire to your room for the evening, take it out of hiding and see what you may see. Do not attempt to open or dust it off until you are alone my dear."

Naira beamed at the old man, retrieving a small leather pouch she'd stowed away under her shawl. She loosed the top of it using a small tassel that hung off of it, and shook three gold dinars into the extended palm of her hand. She pressed the money into the man's hand with a murmur of thanks. The empty pouch, feeling miserably light and empty, went back into its hiding place upon her person. "I admit, I am more than a little intrigued," she told the man, lifting the lamp into her arms with all the care in the world. His instructions gave her the impression that the lamp was a great treasure with some sort of magic that she would only understand if she went home and shined it respectfully. Maybe it would give her a sense of unmatched peace and calm to solve her problems? Maybe it would attract a kind young man to her to marry in the merchant's stead? She entertained all sorts of possibilities as she turned from the elderly shopkeeper and his gang of child admirers. She finally had a reason to brave her father and obediently return home with him. Naira supposed her escape would have to wait for another day...

----

Asir Al-Hakeem ruffled the feathers of his falcon Adham affectionately. In all the world, he cared for no one more than his faithful pet. While his father, the Shaikh Baqer barked orders at him daily, and his insidious younger brothers plotted to poison his fattoush, Adham followed Asir wherever he went. He never spoke, like humans did. He never forced Asir to do anything. Not like Asir had to do much. He was generally attended to by servants and the like. If he yearned for the company of a woman, there were always the concubines to borrow. Mostly he was uninterested. He spent the majority of his time memorizing hadith and practicing swordplay with his father's guards.

Although today, he was feeling more restless than usual. It came as a relief to him when one of the servants came into his chambers to inform him that he was to go to collect some scroll or another from a scribe in the town to bring back to the Shaikh. Some sort of catalog of trade to neighboring cities, or a count of enemies, or a record of goods... It mattered not. Asir sighed and stood, returning Adham to his wooden perch by the window.

Bowing his head to the brighter looking maiden, the old merchant storyteller resumed his tales of adventure and wonder to the hushed, eager children gathered around his mat. His stall was surrounded by a map of brightly coloured woven mats, each one a completely contrasting color than the one beside it.

As the woman walked home with her purchase, the lamp felt slightly warm in her clutches. It almost felt like the warmth of a small kitten, or another human hand, comforting and near.
The weathered, somewhat leathery gentleman beside Naira's father turned, seeing the potential bride.

Naira's hair nearly stood on end when she was faced with the man she least wanted to see. Surely she would be expected to dine at the table with both the man and her father. The journey home was both solemn and painful for Naira. She walked a few paces behind the two merchants, who were conversing rambunctiously with one another. Every now and than, the disgusting older one would glance back at the young woman with a frighteningly lecherous look in his eyes. It seemed as though they would never arrive back at the house. But sooner or later, they did. Naira's mother distracted the men, ushering them into the receiving chamber with the promise of appetizers before the main meal. Meanwhile, she stole away to her room with the precious lamp, eager to clean it up like she'd been instructed.

She closed the curtain from the courtyard hall to her chamber. But for good measure, she also shut the door and pushed a wooden dresser in front of it so no one could disturb her. If someone tried to get into her room, they had several barriers to overcome. But they would come, Naira knew, and she would be forced to leave and speak with her suitor whether she wanted to or not. Time was waning. She retreated further back into the room, climbing atop her bed. It was decorated with a violet silk canopy that matched the light sheets. Blankets could not be heavy in the desert, for it was far too hot for them in the evenings.

"Now, let's see what this thing does," Naira muttered to herself, digging around in a drawer for a rag of some sort with which to wipe the lamp. She came across a torn piece of cloth she'd ripped off an older dress while trying to clear one of the walls outside, and giggled at the memory. "This may work..."

Biting down on her lower lip, Naira began to rub the lamb with the cloth. She would make it shine brighter than it had on the old man's display!

At first, nothing seemed to happen at all, a sense of despair and hopelessness in the room. Before the maiden could give up, the lamp began to grow warmer and warmer to the touch, as if a small fire was burning inside the gold lamp. The gold shone brother, and it gave off an etheral glow.

With a faint scent of frankenscence and cool desert water, a faint cloud of smoke issued from the object, a silliette in the mist. As the smoke cleared, a young man stood in the center of the room. Tan skin and ebony hair, the silent figure tilted his hand, examining them to see if they were there. Flexing the digits, he took a long glance at the shackle like gold cuffs around his wrists before gazing up, cool misty eyes meeting the girl who had released him.

Naira gaped blankly at the djinn. At least, that's what she assumed the creature was that had taken the guise of young man standing in the center of her bedchamber like it was no issue at all. It was somewhat of a delayed reaction. It took a moment to process that what she was actually looking at existed, and was not simply just a figment of her imagination. It seemed stranegly like an illusion. The scent that reminded her vaguely of incense, the colored smoke, the olive-skinned young man flexing his fingers with wonder as though he had not moved them for decades... But once Naira had gotten over the initial shock, she started to panic.

"YEEEK!" Naira gave a yelp, and flung a pillow at the man with all the force she could muster. And within seconds she was on the opposite side of the room, pressed with her hands and back against the wall, floundering for words and looking around frantically for some other sort of weapon with which to protect herself. "Wh-Who-Who ARE YOU?!" she shrieked, "WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?!"

---

Asir rode astride a great black Arabian horse, through the center of the road. The villagers recognized him at once, and cleared the pathway for him and his attending guards. The horse trotted along and the noble gazed upon the civilians lazily, through half-lidded eyes. The house of his father's scribe had to be somewhere nearby. He'd been riding for ten minutes at least. It was not supposed to be far, from what the servants had informed him. Of course, it was difficult to keep focused on the subject at hand, when his way became blocked with an enormous crowd of children... Children of all ages, gathered around a peddler selling exotic antiques from his travels, apparently.

There were oddments hanging upside down, stacked behind the old man, arranged along the counter. The fabrics decorating the space were bright and far too gaudy for Asir's taste. The guards pressed in front of Asir, trying to take care of the road block for him. There was no need for the noble to get involved. One of the guards addressed the peddler. "Lord Asir needs to make his way through here. We ask you to clear the children from the path. This is a great inconvenience to us."

The djinn stepped aside, practically floated, avoiding the pillow with ease. Without a flicker of concern in his eyes, the stormy, almost violet eyed male stood before the raven haired female. With a lavish bow, he began to speak, a low, soft voice, borderline baritone if one was to attempt to describe it.

"My name is Abu Nassir, I am here to serve. Any desire you should want can be yours. I must inform you though, that there are but three things I cannot do: I cannot take or give life, I cannot change a person's true feelings, and I cannot alter time. Anything else can be yours."

With another bow, the male floated in the air, legs folded across themselves.

Hearing a commotion, Naira's mother came to the curtain. "Naira! What on earth is all the noise in there? Do you wish to frighten away your suitor?"

~~~~~~~~~

The children flinched, looking up with pleading eyes at the storyteller and the guards, not wanting to move. Several of the youth scrambled and scampered away, not wishing to get into trouble with such strong looking men, nevermind their parents.
With a semi toothless smile, the old man looked up at the one riding the black stallion, not a worry on his weathered features.

"Ah, I would, but the children seem so relaxed! Perhaps if the mighty lord were to request it himself, his humble servant migh believe his words to a messenger. But then, surely such a man would wish to partake in a tale? Or relax a moment or two while on his way? Come now, surely I can meet him personally?" Looking up into Asir's eyes, the man gave a smile and a wink. "But alas, I suppose not, All I ask is that you not speak ill of my shop, and if you see anything you like, feel free to buy or reccomend to someone else." Then, smiling brighter, he held up a finger. "Of course! You are busy with your duties! My humble apologies! Perhaps I might assist you if you need directions? I know where most everything is located my lord, so feel free to ask if you were not told exactly."

Naira's jaw hung agape as the man slowly rose into the air. Instead of being incredibly anxious, like a moment ago, her awe of the Djinn began to grow. Her fear was overcome by these feelings. It seemed that the hopes she'd invested in the lamp had been well placed. Not only did the Djinn offer her whatever she desired, but, on closer inspection... The Djinn was very beautiful. He had long, dark hair, with longer bangs in the front clasped with gold hangings that matched both his necklace and headband. His garb was strange, but not by too much. Certainly different than what men usually wore. But before she could allow herself to succumb to foolishness, Naira reminded herself that there would certainly be a price for fulfilling her desires. She was about to ask, when her mother's voice rang out from behind the door and the curtain beyond.

"No, mother! I am sorry!" she said. "I accidentally knocked something onto my foot! I am all right." She moved closer to the door, ignoring the Djinn for the time being. She hoped he'd understand... Not like she knew anything about his kind. "I will be down to dinner soon. I must change."

Her mother voiced her assent, and Naira listened to her footsteps disappearing down the walkway. She spun around the face the Djinn, her amber eyes wide with excitement. "Tell me, what must I do for you to get what I want?" she asked eagerly.

----

Asir glared at the shopkeeper impatiently, but he was hardly in the mood to cause a scene. While he disliked impudence on the part of commoners, a larger crowd gathering around the uproar would only hinder the procession's progress further. And the sooner he got the errand done, the sooner Asir could spend time doing things he wanted to do. Perhaps search for some new stories to read and add to his collection. He was an avid collector of the written word. Now, did it hurt to look at what the shopkeeper had to offer? Did the man have some stories hidden back behind those counters?

"Very well," Asir sighed, dismounting gracefully from his steed. He smoothed his robes down slightly and strode over to the shopkeeper, to the surprise of the guards. "What are you offering here, old man? I may be interested if you have written some of your tales down. "

The Djinn in question quirked a brow and tilted his head to the side, blinking at the female before him. Prettier than any previous master or mistress indeed, not that he'd had many. Most Djinn's had free reign to go about as they pleased, and often chose pretty items or homes in the human world to stay in. However, if one was caught by a magic man, a sorceror strong enough, they could become imprisoned. The other way was to have chosen a vessel with a spell on it meant to seal in evil spirits, but most fortune tellers and magic tuned humans could not make a spell specific enough to tell which was a malicious verses benevolent spirit.

Nassir was caught by a sorcerror many centuries ago, and as such, was sealed in his lamp. Blinking at the female, he floated back down, landing with his feet on the floor.
"I do not understand. I am here to serve, and I can give you anything you desire, so long as the lamp remains only yours and in your possesion or home."

~~~~~

The elder beamed, bowing respectfully before leading the regal looking male to his stand behind the counter, indicating his wares. "Most of my tales are only spoken as they were told in my family, but I have taken the liberty of scribing a few. Perhaps you might like the book of the tales I have gotten recorded?" Reaching among his odds and ends, the eccentric storyteller moved aside the second lamp and a few pieces of jewelry to fetch a small, but relatively thick set of four scrolls.

Was that true? Naira started to feel a bit confused herself. What was the Djinn doing in a lamp? Weren't Djinni supposed to be free? They wandered around, either helping people or terrorizing them as they saw fit to do at the time. But she had never heard of a Djinn being trapped inside any object, much less a lamp. And being forced to serve the same master for eternity lest the object fell into other hands? It sounded horrible indeed. In fact, she even contemplated asking if she could let the Djinn go, except she was not sure if he would hurt her after she did. Djinni were not often to be trusted. They were tricksters! At least, according to the stories Naira had heard during her childhood...

"I confess, I have no idea how this works," Naira admitted to the Djinn. She took a few measured, cautious steps towards him, cocking her head to the side with badly-concealed curiosity. "Nassir, is it? I am not sure how I feel asking you to do anything for me without giving you something in return. How long have you been a lamp? Djinni are not supposed to be in objects, are they...?"

--------

Asir regarded the large scrolls with thinly veiled interest. They appeared substantial... Worth his time. They would last him some nights to read, he was certain. What manner of stories were they, that had been passed through the shopkeeper's family? But as the peddler moved his things aside to make way for the scrolls, another object caught Asir's eye. It was a simple oil lamp. It had jasmine flowers carved onto its golden sides, and it cannot have been worth much money. Yet Asir felt drawn to it in a way he could not explain. Still, he would disguise his desire and returned his attention to the peddler and his scrolls. As a last minute transaction, he would add the lamp to the total purchase. In the most casual of ways.

"What are these scrolls about?" Asir asked he old man, quirking up a thin, dark brow. He drummed his fingers along the booth counter impatiently. "Are they fiction, non-fiction? Are they fairy tales or battles? Romance? Tell me, I want to know they are worth my gold."

At the mention of being in a lamp, the man frowned, an angry scowl on his normally gentle looking face. "No! We are not supossed to be in objects. If we are caught, they put us in containors like lamps or rings. I am supossed to be free. But I am stuck serving humans now." Glaring at the girl, he almost seemed to be...sulking?
It was true, most were either kind, curious creatures, or they were usually tricksters who would torment any human foolish enough to cross their paths or summon them. "Yes...Nassir is my name. I have been in here for 3 centuries."

~~~~~

The merchant smiled, unperterbed by the attitude of the young male. Placing the scrolls on the counter, he sighed, patting them gently and fondly, looking at them with a gleam in his eyes.
"One of these was something I asked to be recorded, but the other three are written by Shaharzhad herself! Her signature and seal are on the bottoms of them. The great queen was my grandmother you see. They are of many things, love, treatury, fights, adventure, mystery, danger, magic, and all sorts of things. Surely something among them will interest you?"

Opening one of the scrolls, he indicated the signature of the greatest storyteller of all.

Naira felt taken aback by the Djinn's reaction. She honestly had not intended to offend him in any way. But could she blame him? He had been captured and stuck inside an oil lamp of all things, for three human lifetimes! She thought her life was boring, but Nassir must have been bored to tears inside of the wretched thing! "I am sorry, I did not mean to make you upset," she murmured shyly, averting her eyes to her hands, which were folded neatly in front of her. "Sometimes my curiosity gets the better of me, and I ask stupid questions. Or questions that no one really needs to answer, if it upsets them." She was bizarrely compelled to cheer the Djinn up after his outburst, as she felt it was her fault, and so the girl ran to her dresser and started fumbling around in it for something.

"I promise I will be nice to you," Naira said as she dug through her things. "I know that some of your masters might have been mean or immediately forced you to do things for them. There is not a lot in the world I want, but--Aha!" The girl lifted a charm one of her friends had given her as a child. Her friend Sabinahin had gone away in a caravan to a distant land, leaving Naira all alone. This charm, a simple dangle of gold bells fastened together in a bracelet, was all Naira had to remember her by. Naira felt that if she gave it to Nassir, maybe they could be friends. Even if Naira was just imagining the Djinn was there with her. "Here, this is a peace offering. It means that you are my friend, not my slave."

Naira held out the bracelet, dropping it into Nassir's hand. Almost on cue there was a loud banging on her door, and her father's piggish, boisterous voice. "NAIRA, COME TO DINNER. YOU MUST MEET YOUR SUITOR!" Naira winced. "I am sorry, Nassir, I will have to come back later tonight!"

---------

Asir's eyes danced with wonder. The signature of the famous Scheherazade! Her reached for the scrolls hungrily. It took every ounce of his willpower not the unroll the scrolls then and there and begin reading. The woman had created this series of tales, the Arabian Nights, to fascinate the King who would have slain her come morning. Each night she would leave the King hanging. And each morning her life was spared. A thousand and one nights, until the King decided that he would never kill her... These stories must be well worthwhile! Asir glanced up at the peddler, awestruck. "I cannot believe you have these on your hands! And you would sell them to me? How much? I will pay, I swear. I must have them."

It was the Djinn's turn to sit awestruck. Why was the maiden apologizing? Masters and mistresses didn't apologize. Feeling like he should make amends for upsetting the woman who freed him of his prison, he toyed with one strand of his hair, glancing at her with mild uncertainty. "No, it is fine. I can only hope I have not upset my summoner." With a yawn, he stretched, not unlike a cat or dog would. Watching her dig through her drawers made the male even more curious, a black brow quirking slightly in interest as he stood behind her. As the metal landed in his palm, Nassir blinked, looking from her to the bracelet before putting it on. "Friend.......?...." he murmured to himself, watching her go. With a frown, he curled up on her bed, staring at the door, then the piece of jewelry. Shrugging, he curled up into a ball, falling asleep on the cozy bed.

~~~~~~~~

From one story fan to another, the man's eyes twinkled with joy as he saw his eagerness and delight. "I see you are a fan of a good tale as well. I am glad I could offer these to one such as yourself then!" With a chuckle, he registered Asir's questions with an even brighter smile. "A fine question my lord. But yes, I will sell them to you, these are the ones I've memorized so far. My grandmother not only created stories, but she could weave them and deliver them with such grace, such perfect rythm! I have not mastered the art yet, but perhaps one day..." the man sighed wistfully before shaking himself free from his thoughts. "Well, enough of an old man's ramblng! Let's see now, for you I can part with them for....let's say.....1000 gold dinars..... But it depends, how much are you willing to part with?"

Naira had some trouble moving the dresser from in front of the door. It occurred to her she had not changed like she told her mother she would. While the Djinn appeared to have fallen asleep on her bed (she was unsure of how she felt about a man in her bed, Djinn or not), she stole into her bathing chambers to change into a violet gown and shawl not unlike the color of her bed's draping. Afterward she tiptoed past Nassir and disappeared out of the door, gathering up her skirts and running along the courtyard walkway. The girl paused to wrap the shawl around her shoulders to conceal her lower face, and turned into the receiving chamber. Past that lay the dining room, a table low to the floor. In her country, people did not sit on chairs, but knelt on colorful pillows as they shared a meal. The older merchant was conversing with her father, but froze mid sentence to take her in.

Her father beckoned for her to sit across from them, beside her mother. "Yusr, allow me to formally introduce you to my daughter Naira." They spent the next hour or so making uncomfortable small talk, with the encouragement of Naira's parents. She ate very little, as it was unladylike for a girl to eat very much in front of a suitor, and also difficult to do so with her scarf around her face. She learned more about the man's camels than the actual man. Which was fine with her, as she wanted nothing more to do with him. Naira knew what she wanted to ask Nassir for by the time dinner ended and she bade the merchant Yusr Mahdi goodbye.

--------

"Consider it done," Asir replied. He drew out a hefty satchel with more than enough of the amount needed to purchase the scrolls. Before he completed the transaction, however, he was reminded by a vague glittering to his left. Of course, the lamp... "I'll take this, while I'm at it," Asir added, grasping the object and placing it in front of the peddler beside the scrolls. "I might as well have something new to light my reading on this happy occasion." The shaikh's son had become extremely distracted by the booth, and he knew that his father's correspondent was probably growing impatient for Asir's arrival. That was why he had to tie up the matter and go on his way.

From the look of it, the guards and the children were also becoming restless. The children were hungry for more stories, while the guards longed to move. The group of them must have looked awkward standing there was Asir bought oddities from an eccentric shopkeeper. No matter. They worked for Asir, not the other way around...

Like her daughter, Naira's mother ate little when in the presence of guests, males in particular. Only the moon of her face showing behind her shawl, she ate with grace and watched her daughter to make sure she behaved properly. As the meal finally came to an end, she set about cleaning the table and the cushions of any crumbs.

Inside Naira's room, the Djinn in question had perched himself in a corner, awake once more. Sitting on a cushion stolen from her bed, he made himself comfy in what he decided to dub his corner of the room, at least until his mistress reclaimed it. As she opened the door, Nassir sat up politely, watching her with a bright, inquisitive gaze. He knew that look. She had a request of him. He hoped it wouldn't be too strenuous, for he had after all been cooped up for a long time.

~~~~~~~~

The merchant storyteller took the generous offering with a bow of gratitude. About to turn to the children, the man found his smile growing, seeing the object he placed beside the scrolls. "Ah, so you noticed that? I certainly have no need for this trinket, but I'm sure a man such as yourself will enjoy what it can give. Take care my lord, for this is no mere lamp." Gesturing him to lean closer, the male lowered his voice. "Simple in appearance, yes, but do keep it a secret. I would hate for it to fall into dirty hands my lord. Take care not to use it until you are completely alone. then, you may enjoy it to the fullest." Standing up, he presented the items as he besseched the children to step aside so the company could pass by.

Naira could have laughed when she spotted Nassir. He was sitting in a corner with a pilfered pillow. No doubt he had set himself up some sort of territory in the room, humble as though it might be. The girl was vaguely reminded of a dog, but if was disrespectful of the Djinn to consider such a lowly creature to compare him with. Djinni were a proud race, and extremely powerful. Had not one of the women in Scheherazade's tales been forced to marry a free Djinn, even if she cheated on him with men while he slept? They were certainly a force to be reckoned with! As Naira removed the scarf from her faced and gazed down at Nassir's flawless countenance, she wondered vaguely if it were possible to marry Djinn after all. If all male Djinni were as beautiful as Nassir, Naira would not have minded. But she was sure he would be able to free her from her situation without her having to resort to offering him her hand.

"My father wants me to marry a comrade of his," Naira began with purpose. "He is a man named Yusr Mahdi. He is twice my age, and missing many teeth. He is dried up like a prune. I am much too young and beautiful to marry someone like that, forgive my vanity." Naira's eyes watered a little, but she dabbed them with her shawl. "Please, do whatever you can to make sure I do not have to marry him. Take me away from here to somewhere else. I do not know, how am I supposed to ask things of you? Is there a limit to the amount of requests I can ask of you?"

-----------

Asir quirked a brow in confusion. What -was- the mad shopkeeper going on about? How could an oil lamp have any special properties other than to light a room? It seemed silly. He shrugged and tucked the lamp away, lifting the precious scrolls into his arms. The man mounted his dark horse, and took up the reins, touching his heels into both sides of the animal's flanks. The crowd of children parted to let the procession of the nobleman's son and his attendants pass through the road. Within the hour, he had carried out his father's errand, and hurried back to his room to start reading Scheherazade's scrolls.

The sun was still up when Asir started, devouring each passage of her stories ravenously until the last of the daylight disappeared beyond the horizon. But soon his chamber was dark. His white falcon Adham slept with his head tucked under his wing. Asir withdrew the lamp from his cloak and sought to fill it with oil, but the top would not come off. He yanked and heaved at it, but it would not budge. Had he been ripped off? Was the oil lamp simply decorative? In the process of his pulling, he spilled some of the oil onto the side of the lamp, and started rubbing it off furiously with his sleeve.

The Djinn looked up at his lady as she entered, worry and wonder in her eyes. What an odd mix. He was a proud race, but being chained to a prison by one sorcerror, he had lost his freedom. As the maiden before him spoke, Nassir watched her intently, absorbing each and every word. A request it was, and one that could prove a bit difficcult.

Finally, the man spoke, standing before her. "You are not wrong in your boasts. You are beautiful, a beautiful desert flower. As for your misfortune, I know it is common for your people to have people chosen for you is it not? Tell me, Do you wish me to lead him astray and make him become lost at all times so he cannot come to collect you? Or would you like a different solution?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As Asir rubbed the oil lamp, the object grew warm and shone brighter, the faint, surreal glow coming from around the object lighting his face and the table. Within moments, a soft cloud of fireless smoke filled his room, a faint scent of jasmine and wild roses permeating the air with their sweet fragrance. Once the smoke cleared, in the center of the room stood a young woman.

The Djinn blinked her teal eyes, her skin the faintest hint of tan, but not much, having not been outside much. Her hair was vibrant as the fire she was born from.

Naira colored from the Djinn's compliment, but she tried not to think too much of it. He was just trying to please his new mistress. However, Naira was unsure of how to answer Nassir. More than anything, she wanted to be free of the man, of her parents, of this house... She wanted to go on adventures. She wanted to do something interesting with her life, like Sabinah had when she'd gone with the caravan to Allah-knows-where. She wondered what Sabinah was doing right now, and if she had ever settled down.

Perhaps she'd even found love, which was the most rare treasure a woman in these times could find. Naira trudged over to her bed, and plopped down. There was a slight thump from her weight hitting the sheets and cushions. The girl closed her eyes and thought deeply about what she wanted. There were only two solutions to her problem. One, she could be whisked away on adventures like Sinbad. Two, she could be discovered by a wealthy young man who became smitten with her and stole her from her parents.

"There are two things that can be done," Naira replied. "One, you could take me away from here. You can transport me to another land and I will have adventures, like in the stories I was told as a child. Or alternatively, I can work at the Shaikh's palace. And maybe while I am there I will win the attention of one of his three young sons. Then I can be married and escape this awful place."

----------

Asir could not believe his eyes at first. There was a cloud of smoke, a flower smell, and suddenly, a beautiful young girl standing in the center of his bedchamber. Not exactly what Asir had in mind, but it was a welcome distraction from the frustration of not being able to open the lamp. Strangely though, it seemed the girl had come out of the lamp, which was physically impossible. At least, Asir would have assumed it to be, if not for the woman in his immediate proximity. He stared at her speechlessly for a few moments, then finally brushed a hand back through his hair, bewildered. "Who are you? You have come from the lamp, am I correct?"

Asir rolled up the scrolls, securing them shut with some thread, and laid them aside. He contemplated the girl's exotic appearance. Turquoise irises, flaming orange hair that cascaded down past her waist... Her skin was lighter than his by a long shot. Still ever slightly tanned, but had apparently not been kissed by sunlight very often. She looked like a foreigner, or one of the white slave girls that occasionally were brought down by traders from the north. She was one of those beauties that Asir would pay attention to, simply because she was so rare to behold. He flashed her a winning smile.

"I am Asir Al-Hakeem, the Shaikh Baqer's son. To whom do I owe this special occasion? It is not everyday a strange woman appears after I attempt to clean modest oil lamps such as these."

Nassir watched his mistress comtemplatively, wondering why she turned a light rosey hue in her cheeks. He hadn't been lying. She was quite pretty, and he rather liked the sight. A pretty thing to get the chance to look at after years of captivity. In any case, his job was to make her happy. It was the least he could do since she had rescued him from his golden cage.

He had to admit, she looked cute as she was deep in thought. there was a lot in her mind, and vaguely, the man wondered what all she thought of, for it seemed she was prone to many thoughts. Broken from his assessments by her oice, he looked into her eyes once more, a thoughtful gaze of his own now.

"I can do either. It might be easiest to find work at the Shaikh's palace, but whichever you desire most shall come to pass."


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The man's words were met with a soft alto voice.

"You have a funny way of speaking."

Those were the first words the strange female said, wandering around and seeming to be more interested in her surroundings than the man before her. Deciding to answer his questions, she nodded. "My name is Nasrin Mahsheed, I am stuck in that....lamp." she said 'lamp' as though it were poison, glaring at the offensive object with loathing. She had been owned once, and only once before, by a snobby woman.

"You speak funny." she repeated, padding around barefoot in his room, eying the ebony haired male. "Are you trying to impress someone? Seems a silly thing to do,I think." the female was not used to males. At all.
Tilting her head, she blinked in confusion. "Shaikh? What's a Shaikh?" Waiting for an answer, she tried to pry off the gold slave, shackle looking cuffs on her wrists and ankles, once more finding them stuck.

Naira clasped her hands together with undisguised excitement. "In that case! Uh. Uhm..." She still was not sure what to choose. Adventures in a faraway land would be more daring. But worse things could happen to her at a distance. It was probably a better idea to try and get work at the palace and use her own wiles to get what she wanted, rather than rely solely on the Djinn's power. So she made up her mind, finally. "I suppose it is better to get work at the palace. And while you're at it, maybe we should have the merchant Yusr to get lost and be unable to find me, so he will not ruin my plans to hitch on of the Shaikh's sons. If he intervenes, my father will continue to pressure me to marry him despite my living at the palace. Does that sound like a good idea?"

The more Naira gazed at Nassir, the more she wished he was a regular human boy that could sweep her off her feet and carry her into the sunset. She sincerely doubted any of the Shaikh's sons were as attractive as he was. Should Naira be worrying about how Nassir saw her? After all, here she was at her leisure, and he was a strange man in her bedchamber. What about when she slept? Could she trust him to keep his hands off of her? ...It was a frightening thought.


-------

Asir went rigid. He could have been offended by the way Nasrin spoke to him, as though she had a problem with authority. And she even went so far as to call him silly for trying to impress her with his diction. He talked "funny"? Well, of all the nerve. Asir glowered at the girl, hunching forward and narrowing his eyelids at her. "A Shaikh is a person of authority. A nobleman. Almost a king, at least in this city. I am the son of a king, and I would prefer to be treated as such. You are using a very respectful tone."

He stood from his bed, straightening himself and his garb to look presentable. He glared down the bridge of his nose at the stranger girl, crossing his arms to appear as formidable as possible. Which was not a difficult thing to do, considering that he was a rather tall young man. "And what are you, that you can address me so rudely? I am assuming you are some princess under an enchantment that keeps you inside that accursed lamp. Mayhaps I should not have purchased it, and left your to your imprisonment!"