“Why would they do this to you? What was their purpose?”
“Because they could. I may be powerful now, but once upon a time I was just a firefly—a very powerful firefly.”
“But the scrolls are so definitive, and vindictive. Why would they devise such turmoil?”
“Those scrolls are literal interpretations of fluid concepts. My imprisonment was designed to offer rain in times of drought, fertility to the barren, and health to the sick. 5,000 years ago you would not have thought twice about sacrificing one life, to sustain your crop and feed hundreds. Had you need, you might be willing to risk injury to two people so you could bear a child. And to heal the sick, three minor inconveniences are nothing. Nature demands balance, for every wish there is a sacrifice.”
“But I don’t want my wishes! Why do I have to pay my sacrifice?”
The genie crinkled his nose. “That’s where the literal text starts to get tangled with modern day scruples. At the time that I was bound, the Sumerians didn’t ask for things as frivolous as wealth and fame; they wanted food, water, and health for their entire kingdom. The text interprets seeking wishes for individuals without dire need, as narcissistic and gluttonous, therefore three sacrifices are inflicted without wishes being granted because you are considered unworthy. You did not intentionally seek me out, but you were in a need of help, so therefore the wishes were granted.”
“Even though I didn’t want them or ask for them.”
“That’s where the scope of my power as a sentient being and the decisive nature of the text start to be counterproductive. You were not granted three wishes with sacrifices as the Sumerians were. You were bestowed three blessings. It’s because you didn’t ask for them that you did not have to sacrifice for them. However, since I am not an intuitive being by nature. I don’t know what you want unless you specifically ask for it. That leaves me to grant wishes that you may not really want, or, in your case, devising my own interpretations from vague statements.”
“Why does undoing the blessings mean I get punished?”
“In your text it’s referred to as the mollycoddle clause. It is designed to punish the ingrates. Returning blessings isn’t really considered polite.”
“Oh,” Cori lowered her head feeling sheepish about considering the wishes a burden. It obviously took a great deal of power to make someone come back from the dead, and change the path of her life. She shouldn’t have taken that for granted. “Sorry.”
The genie tipped his head eying her carefully. “I don’t take offense to you wanting to go back to your old life. It is your choice to make. I do wish that I could make the change without the sacrifices, but alas genies don’t get to rub their own lamps.” He winked at her and she tried not to smile too big at his humor, since she didn’t know if it was an intentional or incidental innuendo.
Cori looked over at the lamp and back at him. “So, how long are you stuck to the lamp?”
“My servitude will expire long after my sentient years have passed.”
Cori frowned, mortified to hear this. Her reaction seemed to amuse him, but he didn’t laugh. Instead he twisted his finger around in her hair. She wasn’t sure what the rules were regarding contact between him and his wishers, but she was getting the distinct impression that he hadn’t spent this much time with a flesh and blood human in a while…or ever.
“So, your entire sentient life will be spent fulfilling wishes.”
“I know nothing more.”
“Can’t someone just wish you free like in the movies.”
“No, it doesn’t work quite like that.”
“But there is a way?” she asked and he nodded combing his fingers through her hair. “What is it?”
“I can’t tell you.” He motioned to his tattooed spells again. “Against the rules, I can’t tell you how to free me. All I can do is answer your questions, or not.”
“Great
“Because they could. I may be powerful now, but once upon a time I was just a firefly—a very powerful firefly.”
“But the scrolls are so definitive, and vindictive. Why would they devise such turmoil?”
“Those scrolls are literal interpretations of fluid concepts. My imprisonment was designed to offer rain in times of drought, fertility to the barren, and health to the sick. 5,000 years ago you would not have thought twice about sacrificing one life, to sustain your crop and feed hundreds. Had you need, you might be willing to risk injury to two people so you could bear a child. And to heal the sick, three minor inconveniences are nothing. Nature demands balance, for every wish there is a sacrifice.”
“But I don’t want my wishes! Why do I have to pay my sacrifice?”
The genie crinkled his nose. “That’s where the literal text starts to get tangled with modern day scruples. At the time that I was bound, the Sumerians didn’t ask for things as frivolous as wealth and fame; they wanted food, water, and health for their entire kingdom. The text interprets seeking wishes for individuals without dire need, as narcissistic and gluttonous, therefore three sacrifices are inflicted without wishes being granted because you are considered unworthy. You did not intentionally seek me out, but you were in a need of help, so therefore the wishes were granted.”
“Even though I didn’t want them or ask for them.”
“That’s where the scope of my power as a sentient being and the decisive nature of the text start to be counterproductive. You were not granted three wishes with sacrifices as the Sumerians were. You were bestowed three blessings. It’s because you didn’t ask for them that you did not have to sacrifice for them. However, since I am not an intuitive being by nature. I don’t know what you want unless you specifically ask for it. That leaves me to grant wishes that you may not really want, or, in your case, devising my own interpretations from vague statements.”
“Why does undoing the blessings mean I get punished?”
“In your text it’s referred to as the mollycoddle clause. It is designed to punish the ingrates. Returning blessings isn’t really considered polite.”
“Oh,” Cori lowered her head feeling sheepish about considering the wishes a burden. It obviously took a great deal of power to make someone come back from the dead, and change the path of her life. She shouldn’t have taken that for granted. “Sorry.”
The genie tipped his head eying her carefully. “I don’t take offense to you wanting to go back to your old life. It is your choice to make. I do wish that I could make the change without the sacrifices, but alas genies don’t get to rub their own lamps.” He winked at her and she tried not to smile too big at his humor, since she didn’t know if it was an intentional or incidental innuendo.
Cori looked over at the lamp and back at him. “So, how long are you stuck to the lamp?”
“My servitude will expire long after my sentient years have passed.”
Cori frowned, mortified to hear this. Her reaction seemed to amuse him, but he didn’t laugh. Instead he twisted his finger around in her hair. She wasn’t sure what the rules were regarding contact between him and his wishers, but she was getting the distinct impression that he hadn’t spent this much time with a flesh and blood human in a while…or ever.
“So, your entire sentient life will be spent fulfilling wishes.”
“I know nothing more.”
“Can’t someone just wish you free like in the movies.”
“No, it doesn’t work quite like that.”
“But there is a way?” she asked and he nodded combing his fingers through her hair. “What is it?”
“I can’t tell you.” He motioned to his tattooed spells again. “Against the rules, I can’t tell you how to free me. All I can do is answer your questions, or not.”
“Great
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