Encompassing Emptiness
17th of March 2007 A.D.
You wake up in a desert of shifting green sand, which is quite odd since you don't remember going to sleep in one, in fact you don't remember going to sleep at all, though not near as odd as the fact that you don't mind being here. Slowly, gingerly, as though the dune you are standing on could collapse out from under you into some great gaping emptiness you reach down to find. "Oh... not sand at all, dust."
Twenty of fifty percent of dust in the home is dead skin, you remember hearing that on TV, maybe in an infomercial that was trying to sell some kind of dust-be-gone wonder cleaner.
Why... what could have shed a desert's worth of dust?
You try to ask the swirling alien sky, bruise purple and bloody red, but here you are not crowned, here you are not queen. In dust and ashes none can rule. Yet the desert still yearns for purpose, as the dunes still hold their shape as the endless miles curve into roads that aren't there, into a world that's been changed.
Before you know it you're walking, somehow knowing that the direction isn't as important as the act. Wind howls, sand shifts and like openings in hollow bones of beasts long dead temple doors stand open, flanked by carvings long since worn smooth for lack of hands to care for them. The desert is endless, swallowing hopes and dreams, will and desire, giving back nothing.
Nothing?
You look down and at he very tip of your shoe— how odd that you're still wearing the sneakers you had on last night— you see a golden ring, shining brighter than gold ought, truer somehow as though it had fallen from the pocket of someone who'd been walking out of the temple in front of you. Surely the sands would have covered that up long ago. Maybe they did, but no more.
Up close the ring is plain and unadorned, but you can almost hear from the band of gold something that 's almost like singing. So, feeling a little foolish and quite glad there's no one else here, that no one else can't be here, you bring the ring to your ear and listen like it was a shell on the beach of all things.
Of all the things to hear in such a place as this, the voices on the other side all seem distinctly human, though not in any one language nor any one voice, young and old, rich and poor, prideful and humble, great and lowly all united in in one thing: want. All want something and buried in the dust is something for each and every one, if they but ask.
They don't even have to mean it.
The dust swirls and flows away in rivers wider than continents and you are standing in an Labyrinth, in your Labyrinth, somewhere near the endurance, the base camp of some recent expedition now empty, only the fixtures for the shelters and the searchlights still marking it, the scratches of of things too heavy or too cumbersome to float out marring the floor.
This too lies beneath the sands, for to ask is to reach out one's hand and to accept is to clasp it.
All who take that which you give, the gift of empty places are yours to to claim if they do not do your will, the gift of empty places is never ever free, but in all the wide spaces there's no one else here, so you decide the price. You wake up with a start, essence humming in your veins and realize the wind's still faintly in your ears, the world strangely thin not for yourself precisely, but for any who would ask.
Far as childish imaginings may have flowed you've never thought of what it would be like to be a genie, even before you found magic, or magic found you, it was always more active sorts of roles that suited your fancy, but now you know.
I could hear some guy wish for a pizza, give it to him and claim a year's service if he took a bite.
Now, admittedly, you are upset enough to make up for the serenity of the desert. But logic turns as logic does and you think of the possibilities too. You could give a wish to all your siblings and all they'd have to do is break their word and they'd be in the Fivefold Courts, fast as a thought can carry them.
Do you grant any wishes?
[] Yes
-[] All of your siblings and Mom if she'll take it as a safety measure in case they get attacked
-[] Write in
[] No... probably best to leave the genie powers until there's some pressing need to warp reality
[] Write in
OOC: I've been waiting for you guys to take that charm for a while. 
