Three Wishes

It pleases me to no end that you've stayed by my campfire for so long, Friend. My travels oft take me to far-off places, with strange tongues and even stranger customs. To that end, it is a comfort having a familiar face around. I believe you'll enjoy this next tale, but forgive me if I get a few details wrong; I collected this story from far in the Orient, and it twists and turns almost as beautifully as the language I first heard it in.

Many moons ago, at the very end of the world, a kingdom sprouted out of the Great Desert's shifting sands. It was ruled by a very wise and just man his people called "Sultan". The Sultan was beloved by all his subjects, as he cared for them as if they were his very own sons and daughters. In his heart, however, the Sultan knew he was growing older and more feeble by the year. Soon, he would need to choose a successor to his throne... but therein lay his truest and greatest problem.

The Sultan had no sons to inherit his kingdom; only one, lovely daughter.

As the princess came of age, her beauty became well renowned. Soon, princes from all over the world came calling upon his desert kingdom, seeking to woo her. The Sultan believed his problems were at an end, as many of these fine young men would make excellent sons-in-law and future rulers. He gave permission to court to those he deemed the most desirable without hesitation. The princess, however, had other ideas.

In addition to her beauty, she had a striking wit, and an independent streak longer than the Euphrates. Every attempt her father made to marry her off was met with such scorn and distemper, no prince was willing to put up with it. Before long, the endless stream of suitors that once flocked to the Sultan's palace became barely a trickle. The Sultan, losing patience with his stubborn, shrewish daughter, then set out a decree across his kingdom: any man willing to court the princess - be he noble or pauper - was allowed to do so, as long as he proved himself intelligent, just, and noble of spirit.

With that big of a prospect pool to choose from, the Sultan was sure his daughter would eventually find someone she considered appealing. This plan backfired a bit, though, as the few suitors she seemed to show the most interest in were all roughnecked thugs and slow-witted brutes. With the help of his most trusted vizier, he tried his best to weed out the desirables from the undesirables. After enduring this process for many months, however, the Sultan and the princess were locked in a stalemate.

But hope was not entirely lost.

Word of the Sultan's decree reached far and wide across the kingdom, eventually trickling down to the slums at the edge of the Great Desert. There, the true subject of our story made his home: a man named Alaa Al-Din. Despite carrying such a noble name, this ambitious young man was little more than a common thief, with hands much quicker than his wit. The chance to become a king and take a beautiful princess as his bride proved to be too great a temptation to pass up... but there was one small snag preventing him from pursuing her outright. Al-Din was a wanted criminal. Walking into the palace to throw his hat into the ring was not only foolish; it would be suicide.

One night, while mulling over how to solve his problem, he heard the other thieves in the camp talking. Those old men could talk the ear off an elephant with their boring, nonsensical tales of magic and conspiracy. Tonight, though, the subject of their conversation piqued Al-Din's interest. They spoke of a vast treasure, hidden in a cave far out in the desert. The value of this treasure was so great, it made the Sultan's riches look like a dingy old coin purse in comparison.

That got Al-Din's mind churning. Why risk his neck trying to marry a Sultan's daughter when he could become ten times richer than the Sultan on his own? When all the other thieves had finally drifted off to sleep, Al-Din stole the map to the cave from one of their saddlebags. Then, as quiet as a breathy sigh, he stole off into the night to claim the desert's riches all for himself.

Even with a map, however, finding the cave proved more challenging than he ever planned for. Al-Din wandered across the vast desert for many days on foot, quickly spending the small amount of food and water he'd brought for what he assumed would be just a day-long expedition. On the brink of death, he finally collapsed face first into the sand, thinking himself a fool for ever listening to those crafty old bastards. The moment he hit the ground, however, it gave way underneath him.

When Al-Din awoke, he was laying on a cool, damp stone floor. The desert sky above him was soft and black, glittering with stars. Clearly, he'd been out for quite a while. As he sat up, blinking at his surroundings, he realized more than just the sky was glittering. All around him were enormous piles of gold and jewels, wider and higher than he was tall. Al-Din's exhaustion was overridden at once by elation: he'd found the cave after all, at long last.

Laughing and deliriously happy, he scooped up the gold by the handful and stuffed it into his pockets, wishing he'd brought more bags with him to fill. After a few seconds, however, the gold coins and glittering gems in his fists all crumbled away to dust. Al-Din didn't understand what was happening, angered that he'd been cheated. When the vast treasure around him all faded to ash, only one glittering surface remained: the wall across from him. There were letters carved into the rock, inlaid with sparkling gemstones. Al-Din grabbed a torch from one of the walls and moved closer, his face contorting with disdain when he read them:

"True Riches Lie Within".

Angry and insulted beyond words, Al-Din smote the wall with his torch like a club. He didn't think he'd hit it that hard, but the stone surface likewise crumbled and fell away when it was struck. A small room lay beyond it, making Al-Din think the words were meant literally. There was no treasure within that little room, though; only a small, stone pedestal, and a dirty old oil lamp upon it.

Dismayed beyond words, Al-Din took his pitiful treasure anyway and headed back to the thieves' camp. While he didn't find the vast treasure he sought, at least he wasn't completely empty-handed. The lamp looked old, and it had been well hidden, so it must've been valuable. It was difficult to tell, though, with all the sand and mud caked on it. As soon as Al-Din made it back to his hideout and fixed himself a good meal, he set straight to work cleaning that old lamp.

The tarnished metal sparkled like gold when Al-Din's polishing rag raked off the gunk, immediately spewing a shimmering white cloud from its spout. Terrified, Al-Din dropped the lamp and backed away, not believing his eyes. As the smoke filled the room, it slowly took on the shape of a man. Within a minute, the smoke had dissipated completely.

Before Al-Din's wide, shock-filled eyes was the largest man he had ever seen. From the waist up he was bare, his unnaturally grey-green skin rippling with muscles, and from the waist down there was nothing but more smoke. His scalp was shaved bald, giving ample space to the three horns curling out of his head. While his pate was smooth, though, the braided beard on his chin hung halfway down his powerful chest. The intimidating man wore nothing except a pair of heavy iron shackles on his wrists, his haughty yellow-orange eyes glaring down at Al-Din. The thief quivered with fright, believing the monstrous man would kill him immediately. A moment later, however, he bowed so lowly that his beard swept the ground.

The strange, frightening man introduced himself humbly as Djinn. Not only did he thank Al-Din quite eloquently for freeing him from the Lamp, but he offered him three wishes as a reward. Anything Al-Din desired would be his: all he had to do was ask. Al-Din was no fool, immediately skeptical of Djinn's generous offer. His greed outweighed his good sense, though, as his mind immediately drifted back to the Sultan's decree. For his first wish, Al-Din demanded the princess's hand in marriage, and by extent the Sultan's fortune. Without even batting an eye, Djinn nodded and snapped his clawed fingers.

Al-Din barely had time to blink before a rush of warm, smoky air washed over him. When he could see again, he was in the Sultan's palace, sitting upon the throne. A handsome, silk robe was upon his person instead of his tattered rags, while hundreds of servants bowed at his feet. At his right hand was the princess, clinging to his arm and smiling seductively at him in her wedding gown. Al-Din could hardly believe his senses as the entire palace hailed him as their new Sultan, certain he'd fallen into a deep and rapturous fever dream. At the back of the chamber, however, Djinn stood half-hidden behind a large tapestry, staring at Al-Din with a smug, pompous grin.

Dream or not, Al-Din enjoyed his newfound wealth, prosperity, and bride with great gusto. Night after night, he threw lavish parties at his palace, inviting all his friends, acquaintances, and subjects to partake in the revelry. Al-Din indulged greatly on rich, succulent foodstuffs and strong wine at every meal, but his appetite never seemed to be fully satisfied. That appetite extended to women as well; within a week, he'd assembled an entire harem of brides, all hand-picked to please him.

Al-Din had grown quite accustomed to his new lifestyle, but there was one nagging fly in the ointment constantly spoiling his good fun. The vizier came to him every morning with a stack of scrolls and tablets, begging him to cut back on the frequency of his lavish affairs. He claimed that the kingdom's coffers were emptying quickly, and that many of Al-Din's brides had fallen ill. Not only that, but his subjects were beginning to grumble against their new Sultan. With all the funds dedicated to the Sultan's parties, there were none left to provide adequately for the poor, which the old Sultan would never have stood for.

Al-Din brushed off the vizier's complaints, sure that the old man had to be exaggerating. All his subjects rich and poor alike were welcome at his parties, and his brides seemed happy and healthy enough. Every time he dismissed the vizier, Al-Din's eye was drawn to the corner of the room. Djinn was still there - in the same place he was every day - still watching him with that same, unsettling grin. It was as if the magical being knew something Al-Din didn't, and Al-Din didn't like that feeling one bit.

A few months into his reign, All of Al-Din's indulgence was beginning to catch up with him. He'd put on quite a bit of weight, and was in the poorest health he'd ever been in his life. The grumbling among his subjects was getting too loud to ignore, especially when a few of the more outspoken subjects made attempts to end his life prematurely. Then, one morning during his vizier's daily tongue-lashing, Al-Din's wives burst into the throne room unannounced. All nine of them claimed to be with child, and they demanded he decide which of their children would be first in line as his successor on the spot.

Overwhelmed and on the verge of panic, Al-Din looked over at Djinn for help. The creature held up two fingers, reminding Al-Din he still had two wishes left, and immediately Al-Din set his mind spinning. In a fit of frustration at all the voices shouting at him simultaneously, Al-Din covered his ears and screamed at the top of his lungs that he wished to be left alone. A single, sharp snap echoed across the room, drawing his attention back to Djinn. All Al-Din saw, however, was smoke.

When it cleared, the throne room was completely empty. It was so quiet, Al-Din thought he'd gone deaf at first. He scrambled off his throne and waddled to the balcony, looking out at his kingdom in confusion and fear. The streets surrounding the palace that were once thriving and bustling were completely empty. There were no children playing; no vendors selling their wares; not even a single dog barking or a donkey braying.

Al-Din was completely alone.

Still reeling from shock, Al-Din didn't notice that Djinn had moved closer. The monster was standing right beside him, in fact, staring out at the vacant streets with little care. Not only that, but he had the gall to compliment Al-Din on making such a fine wish. Without so many noisy subjects and nagging wives and advisors to disturb him, Al-Din should be able to enjoy his wealth in peace.

Al-Din wholeheartedly disagreed. He was abhorred by Djinn's candor, sickened by the beast's cruelty to the point of tears. What was the point of having such great riches if there was no one to enjoy them with? He demanded that Djinn set everything back the way it was immediately, but Djinn's smile only grew wider. With a flick of his wrist, Djinn held out his left shackle, showing Al-Din for the first time that there was writing upon it. The letters glowed red-hot as if they were on fire from within. When Al-Din read them, the sick feeling within him grew tenfold.

The writing outlined the rules of his wish-making. It was true Al-Din could have whatever his heart desired... but once it had been granted, every wish he made was permanent. The only way to reverse them was by using his final wish to set Djinn free. If he did that, though, Al-Din would be right back where he started: a thief on the run, barely scratching a living off rocks in the slums.

Al-Din tried to live with the world he'd created, but it was impossible. Without all his servants, he had to do everything himself again: dressing, cooking, washing, cleaning. Loneliness followed him like a shadow everywhere he went in that large, empty palace, wishing that his wives were still there to offer the comfort and companionship he so desperately needed. The silence was so piercing - so hollow - it threatened to drive him mad after only a few days. When he could bear it no longer, he called for Djinn out of despair, agreeing to use his last wish to free the creature.

Once the wish was commanded properly, Djinn stretched his huge, brawny arms toward the ceiling, snapping his fingers with great joy. His shackles fell off immediately; by the time they hit the ground, Al-Din was back in the slums. It was as if no time had passed at all since he'd made his first wish. His rags hung off his thin, wiry frame again, and the remnants of the meager stew he'd cooked were still warm in their pot. Even the Lamp was resting in his grubby hands again, as filthy as ever. Al-Din raced to the door immediately, planning to hurl the accursed thing back into the desert from whence it came. When he reared back to throw it, however, he spied a glint of metal around his wrist under his sleeve.

The shackles that were on the floor seconds ago had been thrust upon him.

Djinn's raucous laughter filled Al-Din's hideout, making him spin back around to face the creature. Instead of a three-horned, yellow-eyed monster, Al-Din saw an ordinary man. The man was still quite brawny and large, though, and his voice and face were Djinn's. Confused and horrified, Al-Din examined the shackles on his arms again. There was writing on the right band now as well as the left, which Al-Din knew for certain was not there before. His mouth ran dry as his heart thundered in his breast, refusing to believe the lettering before his eyes:

"The Hearts of Men are always filled with greed, so the Lamp must never be empty."

A piercing scream left Al-Din's throat of its own volition, both out of anguish and incredible pain. His skull split open that same second, as three enormous curved horns erupted from his temples and the middle of his brow. His hair fell away; his skin turned sickly green and ashen; his feet and legs disappeared beneath him, turning to vapor within a second.

The last thing Al-Din felt was a strong, incessant pull on his entire being, yanking him off his feet. An unseen, powerful force dragged him backward without warning as the smoke swallowed him completely. He felt as if his entire essence was being drawn through a straw, crushing him from every angle. Before he even knew what was happening, Al-Din was trapped in darkness, cold, and silence... deep in the belly of the Lamp.

What became of that Lamp, no one could say for sure. It disappeared that same night, along with Al-Din. Some say it found its way back to that wondrous cave full of riches on its own; waiting for the next greedy fool to stumble across it. Should your travels take you to that part of the world, Friend, vigilance, humility, and thrift are powerful tools. Guard your wits well, and be wary of any old, seemingly worthless trinkets you may come across. They may be more valuable and mystical than they appear... and carry a fate worse than death.