The Genie Who Lost Her Lamp

Prologue

Idris was sitting down in the middle of her lamp. She was staring at the wall when she felt the ground tremble underneath her. Her master was calling her. She slipped out, her legs vaporous. It took her a few seconds to have solid legs again, gently landing on the ground. "Hello, master," she said, her head lowered. Idris raised her head, her green eyes shimmering.

Her master was sitting in his canopy bed, the pillows surrounding him. They were all embroidered thinly and with threads of gold. He was wearing a turban with a ruby in the center.
"Are you going to express your last wish, master?" Idris asked. The man shook his head.

Instead, he stood up, walking slowly towards you. "I wanted to ask you something else," he whispered in her ear. Idris shivered. "We have been companions for a long time...and we...understand each other," he said, his hand trialing down her back. He sat back down. "I want you to marry me." He said, his tone simple, as if he hadn't even considered her refusal.

Idris exhaled, looking down. It happened once every century. One of her masters, or mistresses, fell in love with her, demanding her to stay and become their lover. When she refused, people often expressed their last wishes in a hurry and let her go, too humiliated. Some others didn't express any wishes on purpose to spite her, but they all let her free after some time. Idris was not sure her current master would do the same. He was evil, and enjoyed watching others suffer. She had witnessed it with her own eyes.

While Idris was thinking about the past, the master had seen something flicker in her eyes. His eyebrow twitched. "What's wrong? Do you not want to become my wife? Don't be ridiculous," he laughed.

Idris stood up, locking her eyes with her master. "Master, I...must refuse. I do not love you." She said, closing her eyes to await the yelling. There was an oppressing silence instead. She opened her eyes, confused.

Her master was sitting still, his hand holding a pillow so tight his knuckles were white. "You...don't want..."he trailed off, standing up, furious. "You're a dumb woman, nothing more. No..you're a genie...a servant for the rest of your life...you don't even deserve to stand at my same height. KNEEL!" He roared, pushing her down. Idris stumbled down, feeling the scrape against her knees. The words about being a servant for life had stung her. It was the truth, but it hurt.

"You...you!" He hissed, his eyes flashing. How could he make her suffer? What would hurt her? She was a genie: she had nothing he could destroy...except.."I want to use my last wish," he hissed, spitting on the floor next to her hands. Idris didn't flinch. "I wish for your lamp to fly away, far far away from you. You are banned from touching it. And seeing it. Only someone else will be able to bring it back to you," he snarled in her ear, positive no one would help her find her lost lamp.

Idris felt the words seep inside her, the shock widening her eyes. Her lamp? It was the only thing she owned in the human world and not in the mist inside. It would render her homeless. What could she do? Nothing. She brought her hands together, tears streaming down her eyes. "Your every wish is my command, master," she croaked, as a flash of light enveloped the desperate genie and her cruel master.