Albert Demas and the Conflict of Olympus is a fantasy novel that blends ancient myth, history, and magical realism. It follows Albert, a warrior-turned-immortal who has lived through centuries of conflict and loss. As he confronts his true origins a...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
A chill ran through me. The Black Jinn were more than just a lost tribe—they were a shadow, a warning of what could happen to any of us.
"Some say they were destroyed," Al-Qadimus continued, his voice barely above a whisper. "Others believe they still watch, waiting for the moment to reclaim their power. But whether they exist or not, their absence has left a void, one that has never been filled."
I looked to him; the question unspoken but heavy in the air: Could they return?
Al-Qadimus's gaze was unreadable, and he did not answer. Instead, he waved his hand, and we found ourselves standing before a crystalline lake, its surface shimmering in the light of a distant sun.
He turned to me; his voice softer now. "You have asked about power, Demas. But power, in all its forms, comes from understanding the balance between the forces that shape the world. There are three sources of magic in this universe—forces older than the Jinn, older than time itself."
I leaned forward, listening intently, feeling the weight of his words press against my very soul.
"The first," Al-Qadimus said, "are the angels. Beings of pure light, tasked with preserving the divine order. Their magic is not something they wield—it is part of them. They exist to guard, to guide, to maintain the balance of creation. But even angels, for all their power, are bound by their nature. They cannot touch chaos, and they cannot interfere in the choices of mortals."
He paused, letting the gravity of his words sink in. "The second force is the demons. They are born of rebellion, creatures of darkness who exist to twist and corrupt the natural order. Led by Iblis, Lucifer, and Azazel, they offer power without consequence, magic without restraint. But their magic is a lie. It consumes those who seek it, leaving them hollow and lost."
I shuddered; the image of souls damned by ambition flashing in my mind.
"And the third," Al-Qadimus said softly, "are the Jinn. We are beings of elemental power—tied to the earth, wind, fire, and water. Our magic is not a gift, but an inheritance. It flows through our veins, inseparable from who we are."
He looked at me, his eyes piercing through the mask. "And from these three sources come the five sacred mysteries. These are the laws that govern all magic, the truths that shape both the mortal and Jinn worlds."
I felt a shiver of anticipation. "What are these mysteries?"
"The first is the Magic of the Two Angels," Al-Qadimus said, his voice distant, as though recalling something ancient and long-buried. "Harut and Marut, the angels of Babylon, who were sent by the divine to test mankind. They brought with them the knowledge of magic, but with it came a warning—this knowledge, though powerful, is perilous. Those who seek it too eagerly, or wield it recklessly, often find themselves consumed by it."
