You trust the envy and the fear you hear in his voice if nothing else about him. As you walk deeper into the a palace, for you cannot call this place aught else, the lanterns are replaced with tall graceful windows far larger than those you saw from the outside. Some show the vista of the bazaar, a colorful ever-busy sprawl amid the sands. Others, however, look upon stranger things: a ruined palace that burn eternally with ghost-blue flame, a lonely crest upon which stands a strange dragonglass statue five times a man's height, a lake not of water but quicksilver and upon it an island that shines like gold. Are these true things seen from afar or false seemings wrought of sorcery?
At last you come to a hall that gleams like gold and silver like a jewelry box. Diamonds, sapphires, and emeralds are studded about the walls telling tales of long ago battles and conquests, of the victorious efreeti and their foes trod under foot. There are no seats but divans, like in the cities of the east, though these are obviously meant for a form far larger than any man. A sharp but pleasant fragrance fills the air, such as you have never encountered, but memories of an older time stir in warning... Not urgent as with the monsters and horrors whose natures are revealed to you in the midst of battle, but cautious.
To your surprise, the table set with golden cutlery, some strange and some familiar, is inset with amber. Trapped within like a common fly is the shape of a dragon hatching, its scales blue as the summer sky. You can only pray that the poor thing is dead.