A Paragon of Price
A Paragon of Price
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 desire 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 amusement 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.
Not another Djinn then…a Vampire? He'd heard stories, but never had he thought they were true.
Still, he needed to carry out his Master's command, whether or not this being was on another path of Chaos. The boy sucked in another breath, then exhaled, his consciousness split in two, one diving after the three who were retreating, and the other going for the Vampire. He did not make it far before the Vampire attempted to dissipate half of his consciousness away again. The boy frowned in frustration. Fine. The Vampire was technically an unwelcome guest as well, he would take care of him first.
At first the boy was cautious and unsure of what the Vampire was capable of. He had heard stories, and did not wish to tempt fate. But the Vampire he faced now did not seem as formidable as he had thought. He was violent and vicious, but of no threat to the boy.
He healed quickly despite his pain, and he was fast enough to warrant a more intense concentration from the boy to keep up. But the boy would win eventually, he was certain. So, it came as somewhat of a surprise when the Vampire's words got to him.
Coward…
A coward? He was no more a coward than the Vampire was.
Still, as the Vampire stared back into his star-like eyes, the boy could not help but realise.
This Vampire was smart. He did not see wonder, nor stars. He saw what hid behind the child-like mask. He saw the true Monster, and he, a Monster himself, stared right back.
Very well, perhaps this warranted more effort than merely his consciousness.
The boy withdrew, taking his consciousness right back into the body it had been bestowed. He turned, standing up and heading inside his high-tower room. He changed his clothes, wrapped a bundle of insignificant belongings and one of spices. Then he threw on a jacket and took them all down to the chamber where his Master smoked, surrounded by favoured members of his Harem.
The boy did not speak until his Master acknowledged him.
"Yashi…you looked awfully dressed up for somebody that keeps to his tower," uttered his Master in amusement.
Yashi nodded, "I only leave to fulfil your wish, Master. Once it is done, I shall return".
His Master groaned in pleasure as a member of his Harem attended to his manhood, his hand travelling from the medallion around his neck and across his chest to fist her hair.
"Of course, you will, Yashi," said his Master. Then he shoved the woman forward, his manhood disappearing well past her lips
The woman must have unintentionally used her teeth because his master pulled her back even more forcefully and flung her to the side, "Ah! Bitch!"
He growled in disdain and the woman curled up in fear.
Yashi showed no reaction to the event as his master stood, his silk robe open to reveal his naked form and glanced over at Yashi, "Perhaps you can bring back a wife that actually knows what she is doing, yes?"
To this, Yashi did show brief smirk. The man had not wished, and Yashi did not bother with charity. He raised his hand, palm up. A ball materialised in his hand, brought from the room upstairs, and he dropped it, kicking it up again with his foot before him, beside him, then from behind before he whipped it across the room to his Master. His Master, surprised, fumbled it and it dropped to the ground. He looked up at Yashi in question. Yashi just shrugged.
"Some have it, and some don't, Master".
Yashi then bowed respectfully before he vanished into thin air. His amusement clear. Aye, it still amazed him even now, how the prices his Masters paid were undeniably his. They would wear off eventually if he did not keep remembering them, or keep using them. But for the time being, Kickball was Yashi's to enjoy, and in exchange, his Master would enjoy a Territory free of uninvited guests.