Chapter 304 - A Paragon of Price (1/2)

The young man who sat cross-legged on the balcony of the High Tower looked no older than fifteen or sixteen. Yet there was something about him. Some sense that he was far more than just a skinny boy of child-like appearance. The boy appeared relaxed though. Totally engrossed in his meditation.

He took a deep breath in, held it, then released it, his back straightening pridefully before his eyes snapped open. Anyone who were to look into such eyes would gasp in wonder.

Such a beautiful, boundless blue. The colour seemed to glow, shining with reverence and by far the boys most noticeable feature. With his dark skin and hair, anyone would have mistaken him for a young Tribesman had it not been for his eyes. Just like starlight, he'd been told on countless occasions.

Those who looked closer would know better.

His eyes, now wide open, did not focus on the railing before him, nor the night sky, nor the city beyond. His eyes were instead focused on a place far from where he sat. At the very least far enough away that anyone whom he told of what he saw would think him a madman.

Everyone perhaps, except for his Master, who knew better than to question the abilities at his disposal. For a price, of course, he had never been one for charity.

His eyes cast over the Sand Dunes, he had sensed something here. Something that should not be in his Master's Domain. In the Desert night, he caught sight a small fire pit with three figures around it, they seemed to notice him in the same instance, and stood up in fear.

Yes, it was good to fear him. Fear him and his power. They were wise to do so. Though not wise enough to avoid his Master's Domain.

'In exchange for my memories of playing Kickball as a child, I wish for all unwelcome individuals in my domain to be dealt with accordingly'.

The boy had breathed in upon hearing his Master's wish, taking in the memories, abundant they were, and filled with joy and excitement and frustration and pain and exertion and countless other feelings, both emotional and physical, that swelled and filled the boy's soul. He had spoken simply as he came down from the high, the Master looking at him expectantly.

”Your wish is my command, Master”.

And so, carry out that command he would. His Master never missing that which he had lost for he could not remember it's feeling nor presence. That was the thing about the wishes his Masters had made over the years. They never remembered the prices they had paid. Only the rare few would suddenly realise the gaps in their memories. The strangeness of lost emotions they could no longer feel. The never-healing injuries that they couldn't remember receiving. It was amusing to watch, especially the greedy ones. Especially those who already had everything they would ever want or need, yet wished for more just because they could. The boy was always overjoyed to watch as his envy over their content lives was sated bit by bit.

Of course, that came with a cost too, the more wishes he granted, the less envious he became, and the more he would envy others and d.e.s.i.r.e to grant their wishes instead. Always focusing on what he could gain, and never able to see what he had.

Such was the path of a Djinn.

The Djinn's lips twitched in amus.e.m.e.nt over the party before him, a pretty and small girl and two young men. How he should love to swell with their prices. How he should love to bathe in their emotions and memories. But alas, it would not be.

He pushed forward towards them, leaping upon them to punish them as his master had commanded. Only to feel his power suddenly dissipate.

The boy frowned, his eyes suddenly focusing once more on the sandstone railing before him, and the dim lights of the city below. What had just happened?

He took another breath, closing his eyes to draw on his power and launch his consciousness far across the desert as he exhaled. His eyes snapped open once more. He saw the three originals running away, but he turned his head to the side to look for the threat.

Another young man, wielding two short swords of fine craftsmanship, a long short brown poncho with a hood over his western-style pants and boots. His hair, short and brown, with small braids along the right side of his head. It was his eyes though, that caught the boy's attention. Red. Glowing Red.

For a moment, the boy was sure he had found the one who had long been lost to him. But then the young man opened his mouth, and two long incisors protruded from his top jaw, and he growled like an animal.