VANTÉ. (D. SWING)

WishVanté

My shayla flows fluently through the desert's winds. High winds fluctuate, leaving the free-flowing material of my attire to continuously move with the breeze but never go anywhere. A storm is coming and it's coming quick. Cotton candy colored skies greet me as my map slowly vanishes beneath the lining of dusk.

But it's going to be okay.

I'm more than positive I know where I'm going. My back up map, incase my memory fails me, leaving me all alone is not necessarily the most frightening thing at the moment. If I can push the fact that the moment I return to my kingdom, the moment I am captured and sold back to my kingdom, or the moment a man of my kingdom finds me and I am to be executed to the back of my mind.... Then, I'd say my mental control is beyond pretty good for me.

Twenty-four long years ago mother, Ethiopian Princess Iman, was sent to marry the King of Arabia, my father, Ahmad. My parents are not bad people. I don't have an evil father, this is not a fairytale. Do not be fooled, my dearsest, there is always going to be a reason to stay as far away from the kingdom as possible. He happens to nearly sixteen-thousand moon cycles old and every where that I don't want to be. He is the brother of my father and a very sick man. Therefore, I have made the decision to leave the castle before my precious jewels were to taken from my possession.

What else is there to do besides escape?

"Allah be with me..." I mumble to myself as I allow Joyanna, my camel, to take a knee as I slide and land myself on solid ground. I take a look around, examining the desert as it grows cold. I know I have to set up my tent before it gets too dark and this is the perfect timing. I let out a long, long exhale. "Oh boy." I begin to sprinkle the cinnamon that I'd brought with me around the perimeter of my tent. "Allah be with me," I repeat for a second time.

Just as I prepare to take a seat, Joyanna settles down on her stomach. Her decline causes for multiple items in my bags to fall. I gasp. Kneeling at her side, I am yet again mumbling and whispering curses to myself– as if I am avoiding being judged by anyone– as I dust the items off. I'd taken some artifacts in case I fall in need during desperate times. One of the lamps taken is covered in debris. My hands stroke across it smoothly in efforts of cleaning it off as much as I possibly can. With every stroke, a larger cloud accompanies the snout if the lamp, leaving me much more anxious than before. I quickly drop the handle at the feeling of its temperature rising at a sudden.

Joyanna and I both leap up onto our feet. A cloud of smoke arises from the lamp.

One blink.

A blink is all that it takes. Within a single second, an entire human-being standing before me. Gawking in their presence, I search deep in my lungs for the air that I need to fuel the questions making their way into the center of my brain. He does not look like he belongs here, I think to myself.

He laughs, dusting his arms off. "I don't," he says.

I jump back with a squeal. "Sorcerer!" The figure extends his hands as I draw my sword. "Stay back!" I warn as the topaz eyes of a supernatural being stare back at me with a wicked sense of amusement. My heartbeat accelerates as he begins to laugh. It takes everything in me to keep my composure.

"I'd really like to know what you plan on doing with that," he chuckles. His arms that once were extended in defense, drop right before me and rest at his sides. "I'm not a sorcerer." He carries the jewels of royalty. They drape his entire body from his neck, to his ears to his wrist, to his knuckles. "I am not royalty neither. Listen to me, princess— "

Alarmed, I'm officially alarmed.

Pointing my weapon as my feet snap into the stance of a dual, I set the ground rules down... hard. "I am not going back! You're going to have to kill me first!"

"Look at me," He says as he subtly poses. "I don't need that reward to keep up with my living conditions." Staying on guard, I watch him carefully as he chuckles once more. "I'm here to help you."

"Me?"

"Did I speak an error in my speech?"

My eyes squinting in agitation, I return my feet to their original positioning, my sword stays perched high. "If you're not a sorcerer then what on Earth are you? How'd you know what I was thinking?"

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a cupped hand that seems to gain Joyanna's attention as her mouth dives into his palm. "If you could comprehend the principle of silence, I may inform you..." He remarks before finishing off his sentence. "Your majesty." I simply stare back in a completely unamused fashion. "I knew what you were thinking because your face said it all, princess. We've been traveling a long eighteen hours. Sit down and I'll gladly explain our circumstances."

We?

Our?

"I beg your pardon?"

He sighs, folding his arms across his chest. "I am officially all yours. You have retrieved my lamp from the Castle of Ahkbar. I am a genie and it is you to whom I officially slave for. You, my princess, have a total of three wishes that I may grant in your favor," he says in a monotoned cadence. He must say this a lot more than I'd expected. "My name is—"

"Slow down!" I scream as I place my sword back into its rightful place on my hip. I adjust my shayla, he leans up against Joyanna. "I beg your pardon?"

He snickers, "You said that already." I place my hands on my hips. "But as you wish, princess. That there artifact," he points at the lamp beside my foot. "Would happen to be my home. I've been in the bag you packed traveling with you and Joy the entire time. Right, Joy?" He coos stroking her face.

"Her name is Joyanna– after my caretaker."

Joanna, she was a beautiful European woman. A descendant of Joan of Arc. Joanna always called me her pride and joy. Thus, creating the name.

He snaps back, "I know and I call her Joy."

I roll my eyes. "And you're a genie," I question. He nods his head. "No way." I shake my own in disbelief. "Swear on your life."

"So that my soul may be damned for all of eternity? No! Take my word, princess, I'll be by your side until all three wishes have been granted."

I scoff, "Three? No problem."

He laughs.

"What," I quickly question as he crawls into my tint. "Where is the humor? I am not a jester! This should be easy."

He stops, his orbs boring back into my own with a blanket of sincerity wrapped around his body. "That's what you think."

Following directly behind him, I stand in front of the tint. "How hard can it be to make three wishes," I question.

"You shall see, princess."