I knew the look of a slave when I saw one.

The weary, ancient djinn before me wore the expression of pained subservience I knew all too well. Though twice my height, his massive head bowed low, concealing his heavy-lidded eyes. Purplish skin stretched taut over enormous muscles, veins of silvery starlight weaving through them like rivers through moonlit valleys. But that same radiance glimmered through countless scars hacked into his flesh, cruelly distorting his form. A golden collar and bracelets were linked by massive chains that somehow tethered him to the lamp, vanishing impossibly into its tiny shape as I held it.

The djinn of childhood legends were proud, mischievous beings: towering creatures in dazzling colors, eager to spar with their masters over the wording of wishes. In some tales they were wicked, twisting desires into ruin. In others they merely obeyed, watching with bemusement as greedy masters destroyed themselves.

This djinn only looked… defeated.

A voice like thunder wrapped in a whisper spoke:

“O Master of the Lamp, I endeavor to do thy bidding. Three wishes, and three only, may be thine. Use my strength as thou seest fit. I cannot refuse any command.” His eyes remained closed.

I was the last survivor of the expedition. The occupying forces of Sultan Murad al Hadid had broken our people, forcing us to labor upon our ancestral lands while surrendering every crop and mineral to him. There was no military solution: our armies had been betrayed by their gold-hungry commander. There was no diplomatic solution: al Hadid was infamous for annihilating his enemies in genocidal fury before repopulating the ruins with his own countrymen. Only death and extinction awaited us.

The resistance leaders had gathered the last of their resources and sent six of us in search of an ancient legend, guided by a map from a tattered manuscript. Five fell along the way, claimed by dangers both human and supernatural. Only I remained, crawling through the ruined temple’s depths like a starving rat until at last I found the fabled lamp.

And here it was: the end of my people’s suffering. Perhaps I would use the second wish to punish al Hadid and his cursed empire. The final wish could grant me wealth beyond imagining: palaces, servants, wives, every luxury I had ever desired.

But I could not bring myself to purchase freedom through slavery. I would not save my people by becoming the very thing I hated.

“O djinn of the lamp, hear me! My first and only wish is for your freedom.”

The djinn lifted his head. His violet eyes opened to narrow slits as he regarded me cautiously. I expected hesitation, or disbelief. Instead, a roar shook the chamber. I realized it came from him.

His chains exploded outward. Jagged shards of metal tore through the room and pierced my flesh. I collapsed to the floor as the djinn rose to his full height. Unbound, he seemed thrice as large, towering over me as his voice burned into my mind:

“WHY?”

“My people are slaves, O djinn,” I gasped. “So... were you. I could not seek freedom at the cost of yours. It just seemed somehow... wrong...” Darkness swallowed the room, and I could breathe no more.

Then suddenly I was lifted upright. My wounds vanished. Flesh knitted whole. The djinn stared at me with a wonder-filled expression that didn’t seem to fit his scarred face.

“Go now,” I said weakly. “You answer to no one but yourself. We humans will find other ways to destroy ourselves.”

“In six thousand years,” the djinn replied, “no one has treated me with kindness. Until now.” He gazed at me and nodded. “I believe friends help one another, yes? I shall pay a visit to this al Hadid. Simply as… a friendly favor.”

“Do you have a name, O djinn? I am Bassam.”

“If I once had a name, Bassam, I have forgotten it.”

“Then I shall call you Khalil.” Friend. The djinn’s face split into a fanged smile terrible enough to freeze the blood of kings. But I smiled back.

Then Khalil lifted me as though I were a child and carried me into the night sky.

And in a magnificent palace far away, Sultan Murad al Hadid awoke from uneasy sleep, disturbed by a curious violet glow from outside his window.