The others exhaled. Glad that Osmond didn't have to lose an eye for his wish.
From the throne above, Rhea's voice cut through the chamber like a blade.
"You dummies!"
Everyone looked up. Rhea stood with her hands on her hips, the diamond crown still perched on her head, her face flushed with indignation.
"None of you wished for all the gold here!" she shouted. "Isn't that what we came here for?"
The four men looked at Rhea with confused expressions.
Levain spoke first. "But we thought… Lady Ayumu would wish for that."
A vein popped on Rhea's forehead. Her eye twitched.
"You selfish jerks!" she roared. "Because of her, you all are able to get wishes! She would also have a wish of her own!"
Drobar shifted uncomfortably. "But white magis are known to be selfless—"
"WHAT DID YOU SAY?!"
Rhea's fury was a living thing. The men sweated. Drobar took a step back. Levain hid behind Osmond. Even the djinn seemed mildly entertained.
They had realized their mistake.
All of them had wished for themselves. Not one had thought to wish for the gold—the treasure they had journeyed so far to claim for the Empire.
But Ayumu herself just smiled gently. Her palms were crossed in front of her, her white hair soft around her face. She did not look angry or disappointed. She simply looked… at peace.
The djinn shifted its massive form toward her. The shadows seemed to lean in, waiting.
"Now," it said, its ancient voice almost soft, "it is your turn for the wish."
Ayumu looked at the djinn. Her eyes were calm. Her smile did not waver.
And then she asked a question that stopped everyone's heart.
"Is there…" she said gently, "anything you would wish for, Great Djinn?"
Silence. Complete. Absolute. Stunned silence.
The djinn's eyes went wide. Its shadowy form went still.
Around the chamber, every other face mirrored the djinn's shock.
What?!
A mortal. A white magis. Asking an ancient, all-powerful djinn what it wished for.
No one had ever asked that before.
Not once. Not in centuries.
The djinn stared at Ayumu for a long, silent moment.
Then it laughed—a deep, rumbling sound that shook gold dust from the ceiling and sent ripples across the shadowy walls.
"No one," it said, its ancient voice carrying wonder and disbelief, "has ever asked a being like me that. Hahaha! You white magis are precious." It shook its head—a strangely human gesture. "For the first time in eternity, I am… at a loss for words!"
Ayumu did not gloat. She simply continued to look at the djinn with those gentle, patient eyes.
The djinn's laughter faded into a grin. Then it moved—not walking, but dissolving into smoke and reforming in an instant, directly behind Ayumu. So close that its shadowy form nearly enveloped her.
It leaned down and whispered. "What I wish for, young white magis… is freedom."
Ayumu's brows drew together. "Freedom?" she asked softly.
"Yes." The djinn's voice lost its teasing edge. It sounded almost… tired. "I was called here against my will. I am stuck in this place for almost two hundred years. If I had freedom, I could do things on my own will. I could go back to where I came from…"
The others exchanged glances. Their faces twisted—skepticism, fear, disbelief.
Of course, they didn't believe a word the djinn said.
He could destroy the world if set free.
This is a trick.
It wants sympathy so it can devour them all.
But Ayumu did not hesitate.
She simply said, her voice clear and steady as a bell: "So be it, then. I wish for your freedom, Great Djinn. Freedom from the one that bound you here by the Paenitian people."
"WHAT?!"
The shout came from everyone at once—except Kaiser and Fifi, who was still unconscious.
Rhea, still on the throne, scrambled to her feet so fast that her crown tilted over one eye. "AYUMU! How could you not think—oh goodness, this white magis—AH!"
She stumbled. Her foot caught on the edge of the throne's base. She tumbled down the gold coin hill—rolling, sliding, scattering treasure in every direction.
Levain had both hands pressed to his head, his newly shortened blue hair sticking up at odd angles. "Lady Ayumu, what are you thinking?!"
They all knew white magis were selfless.
But not stupid.
The djinn was silent for a long while.
Its white eyes dimmed. Its shadowy form seemed to still. It was experiencing something. Feelings it had not felt in centuries. Perhaps ever.
Then—a low laugh.
"Haha." Soft. Almost tender. "White magis… you surprise me to no end."
The djinn's form shifted, straightening. Its voice grew serious.
"But for me to be free, you need to know my name. And I cannot tell it on my own accord. It is forbidden. Locked behind my own tongue."
Ayumu did not look away.
She simply said: "Qareen."
The djinn stepped back—a full pace, its shadowy feet scraping the gold coins at the bottom. Its white eyes blazed.
"How did you…?"
"When I shared my memories with you," Ayumu said gently, "your name was made known to me. It was like a constant whisper, buried beneath everything else. Qareen. The Djinn of Shadows."
She clasped her hands in front of her.
"So, Qareen… I wish for your freedom."
For a heartbeat, nothing happened.
Then the wave came.
Energy—pure, raw, ancient—pulsed outward from the djinn's chest. The ground shook—not violently, but deeply, as if the very foundations of the cave were sighing. A circle of wind erupted around the djinn, spinning faster and faster, kicking up gold coins like fallen leaves.
And the djinn began to disappear.
Its edges softened. Its form grew translucent. It was being pulled away.
Ayumu struggled to stay standing. The wind whipped her white hair into a frenzy, tore at her robes, stung her eyes. But she watched. She refused to look away.
And in the moment before the djinn vanished entirely—she saw its face.
Somber.
Those white eyes, so often cruel or amused, were fixed on her with an expression she could not name.
The djinn reached out its hand—through the wind, through the fading shadows—and cupped her cheek. Its touch was cold, but not unkind. Gently, so gently, it pushed back a strand of hair that had whipped across her face.
"Thank you…"
The whisper was almost lost in the storm.
Ayumu smiled—warm, sad, beautiful. "May you find your way back, Qareen."
The djinn's form flickered. It managed one last sentence before disappearing entirely.
"The gold here… take it. But remember… do not be too greedy. Or else… all will fall…"
Then—silence.
The wind stopped. The ground stilled. The djinn was gone.
What remained was Ayumu, Rhea, Levain, Drobar, Osmond and Kaiser and Fifi, both still unconscious on the golden floor.
Together with all the gold. All the jewels. All the luxuries of a fallen kingdom.
The silence stretched.
Then Drobar cleared his throat.
"…What," he said slowly, "just happened?"
Ayumu turned to him. Her smile was soft, almost dreamy.
"Now," she said, "the gold has no owner. The djinn is gone. So whoever finds it… it is theirs to keep."
Levain's eyes went wide. "You knew," he breathed. "You knew this would happen, Lady Ayumu."
Ayumu did not deny it. She simply smiled—a gesture that said yes.
Drobar threw his hands in the air. "Man… if you knew, you should have told us your plan! You will give me a heart attack one day. You will be the death of me, Lady Ayumu!"
Ayumu giggled—a light, musical sound that seemed utterly out of place in the treasure chamber.
"I am being serious!" Drobar shouted in exasperation.
Rhea, still sitting on the floor, pushed her crown back to its proper place and stared at Ayumu with a smile and a low sigh.
"You're impossible," she whispered.
---------------------------------------------------------
They all made a circle around the two who had fainted: Fifi and Kaiser. Both sprawled on their backs.
Drobar crossed his arms and voiced what everyone was thinking.
"Well… now what? The djinn is gone. We're not harmed. We can go back." He looked down at the unconscious pair. "But we have to carry these two…"
Levain added, shifting the small endless pot in his hands, "How are we going to transport all this gold?" He gestured at the mountains of treasure—the coins, the jewels, the goblets, the crowns, the ancient weapons. The chamber seemed to stretch forever in every direction, gold piled high enough to bury a few houses.
Osmond spoke quietly. "Can't we just bring what we can and come back for it?"
Drobar shook his head firmly. "And let the villagers take over our hard-earned gold? Not a chance. They will know that the djinn is no longer here—I am sure of it. Especially that weird leader of the merchant guild."
Levain threw his hands up. "So? How on earth are we supposed to carry such large sums of gold? This place is massive!"
Rhea, who had settled herself on a pile of gold sighed dramatically.
"Our brains are of no use here." She gestured lazily toward Ayumu. "Why don't we ask the brilliant white magis who found this gold in the first place?"
All eyes turned to Ayumu.
She stood a little apart from the group, her hand pressed to her lips, her brow furrowed in deep thought. She had been like that since the djinn disappeared—quiet, calculating, her gentle eyes scanning the treasure.
After a long moment, she spoke.
"Does Sir Fifi happen to have… a transporter orb?"
Rhea's face lit up. "You're right. He has many orbs in his bag. I'm sure he has something for transportation."
Levain looked at Fifi on the ground. "But he's unconscious. Maybe we should wait—"
He didn't finish speaking.
Rhea got up, walked over to where Fifi lay, and without a moment's hesitation—slapped him hard across the cheek.
The crack echoed through the chamber.
"Wake up, Fifi!"
Levain gasped, his hands flying to his mouth. "Miss Rhea! How could you?!"
Rhea waved a dismissive hand. "He's just fine. Loss of blood is not that serious." She drew her hand back and slapped him again, harder this time. "Wake up!"
Fifi groaned. His eyelids fluttered. He blinked up at the ceiling of the cave, disoriented, confused.
"Wha… what happened?" He touched his cheek, wincing. "Why does my cheek hurt?"
Rhea grabbed his shoulders and shook him. "It's just your imagination. Now—we need to transport the gold. You have transporter orbs, right?"
Fifi squinted at her, still half-lost in the fog of blood loss. "Huh?" His head lolled slightly. "More… busts?"
He was not making sense.
Rhea's eye twitched. She drew her hand back for a third slap—
Drobar's large hand caught her wrist just in time.
"Uhh, now, now, Miss Rhea." He gently lowered her arm. "Please calm down. Mr. Fairy here seems a bit drowsy still."
Fifi's eyes snapped into focus. Fury burned through the drowsiness even when he was still laying down.
"I am not a fairy, you dumb brute!"
Levain blinked. "He seems just fine."
Ayumu knelt beside Fifi, her movements soft and unhurried. She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder and looked into his eyes.
"Sir Fifi," she asked gently. "How many transporter orbs did you bring with you?"
Fifi's anger melted under her gaze. He pointed to his bag that was next to him with trembling fingers, counting in his head.
"About… six," he said. "One for each of us, supposedly. Excluding you." He looked up at her. "Why?"
Ayumu was already rummaging through his bag and pulled out the small, light-blue colored orbs. They glowed faintly in her palm, humming with dormant magic.
"How much gold do you think one orb can transport?" she asked. "Back to the capital?"
Fifi sat up slowly, holding his throbbing head. "It depends on the person's energy. But… everything will be transported directly to the Emperor's office. That's how I set them."
Drobar's eyebrows shot up. "Why there of all places?"
Fifi sniffed indignantly. "So we can report directly to the Emperor, of course! And the palace would have medics ready." He shot Drobar a withering look. "Do you have any common sense, Sir Drobar?"
Drobar was not offended. He simply nodded, as if that made perfect sense.
Which, somehow, made Fifi's head pulsate even more.
"Ahhh… my head…" The fairy groaned, pressing both palms to his temples.