Khadra & The Djinn
“There is no greater power in this world than a good story.”
Once upon a time, when the stars were young and the desert wind still whispered secrets only the sand could hear, there reigned a mighty djinn named Jann. The land over which he was lord stretched from one horizon to the other, so that the sun would always shine upon his realm. It was from here that Jann ruled over all djinn with a hand both just and capricious, for while he was wise, he took great delight in trickery. It was said that no mortal, man or woman, could pass through his realm without falling prey to his clever deceptions, for the wishes he offered always carried a hidden twist.
One day, a merchant king from across the sea entered the realm of Jann, seeking new fortunes in the land of djinn, with his only daughter, the beautiful princess Khadra, by his side. The king was famed for his wealth and shrewdness in trade, but it was his daughter who was known far and wide for her unmatched wit. Word of their arrival quickly reached Jann, who, with a grin that stretched across his face like the crescent moon, decided it was time to play another one of his tricks.
In a grand spectacle, Jann summoned them for a splendid feast at his court, a marble palace draped in priceless silks and bursting with endless pleasures. The air crackled with subtle magic as he appeared before them, towering and majestic, his skin gleaming like polished bronze. His voice was like thunder as he spoke, though laced with a charm that masked the danger in his words.
“Welcome, O weary travelers, to the land of my kin,” he said. “As is the custom in my realm, I shall grant three wishes to the one who stands before me. Though, be warned — my gifts are not always what they seem.”
The foreign king, knowing full well the djinn’s reputation, trembled with fear. But before he could refuse, his daughter stepped forward. Khadra was unafraid, her clever mind already working as she curtsied gracefully before Jann. “Lord Jann,” she said with a voice as soft as the evening breeze, “My father graciously accepts your offer, but I shall make these wishes myself.”
Intrigued by her courage and beauty, Jann leaned forward, his amusement growing. “Then speak your first wish, mortal, and we shall see if the tales of your cunning are true.”
Without hesitation, the Princess said, “For my first wish, I desire that every piece of gold my father earns be multiplied tenfold, with no ill fortune befalling him or his wealth.”
Jann raised an eyebrow, impressed but not yet outwitted. He waved his hand, and in an instant, the merchant king’s pockets filled with gold, their weight pulling his royal pantaloons to the floor, exposing him to the amusement of the djinn’s sizable court. “Done,” said Jann with a sly grin. “But beware — your next wish may not end so favorably.”
Khadra, with a twinkle in her eye, responded, “For my second wish, I desire to be given a garden that never wilts, where neither disease nor decay can touch its flowers, and where no harm shall come to anyone who tends to it.”
For a moment, the djinn’s smile faltered. He saw how carefully she crafted her wish, leaving him little room for mischief. With a gesture, a garden of unimaginable beauty bloomed around her, vibrant and eternal, untouched by time.
Jann leaned back, now thoroughly intrigued by this mortal woman who had outsmarted him twice. “You are clever, Princess, but you have one wish left. Surely you must know that, in the end, no one ever escapes my trickery.”
Khadra smiled, her gaze locking with his. “For my third wish,” she said slowly, “I wish for you, O Lord Jann, to love me for all the days of your life.”
At her words, the court fell silent. For the first time in his immortal life, Jann had encountered a power greater than his own — an emotion he had never felt before. His heart, cold and empty for so long, fluttered within his chest. He could not twist her wish, nor did he want to. Bound by her words, he felt something deep and unshakable awaken within him.
In that moment, the mighty Jann was outmatched. Not by magic or force of arms, but by love. He looked upon Khadra with new eyes, seeing her not as a mortal to be tricked but as his equal, his beloved. “Your wish is granted,” he whispered, his voice no longer filled with thunder but with tenderness.
Jann and Khadra were wed in the garden she had wished for, and their love blossomed as richly as the undying flowers that surrounded them. Together, they ruled the land of djinn with joy in their hearts, and in time, they had many children, who inherited not only the majesty of their father, but the cleverness and beauty of their mother.
Years passed, and though the djinn’s love for Khadra never faded, time was not as kind to her as it was to him. She grew old, her beauty softening with age, while Jann remained as young and radiant as the day they met. And one day, as the sun set over the golden dunes, Khadra breathed her last in the embrace of her immortal husband.
Stricken with grief, the djinn wept, for his beloved’s wish was granted: Jann would never stop loving her for all the days of his life. Born of his sorrow, Jann’s tears flowed like a river, giving life to the thirsty desert. The waters sparkled like sapphires beneath the cloudless sky, carrying memories of his lost love’s laughter and grace. The lands touched by this river would forever be known as the Valley of Khadra.
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